Uncommon Commonality

Remember the good old days, when dolls were assembled from felt and flannel rather than from skin-toned plastic and tiny screws? OK, neither do I. That’s precisely why the warm, undeniable “dollishness” of Simpli Jesssi’s eclectic and ever-sanguine handmade figures of everyday people and animals is such an irresistible quality. Characters like these are virtual antiques, being that ever since the dawn of the long-legged, ultra-humanoid, ridiculously glam Barbie, hardly any dollmaker relies on imagination anymore (except in deciding which leather miniskirt ensemble would be sufficiently trashy for Barbie this Christmas season). Frankly, it’s a whole lot easier to feel kinship to the ruddy-cheeked Astrid, the irascible Ulf, the urbanesque, mustachioed Juan or the phlegmatic Timo than it is to connect with supermodel figurines anyway. Dolls like these may never find their way to a Walmart shelf (a compliment in itself), but they’ll cuddle their way into any kid’s heart. In the end, of course, it’s the cozy factor: When it comes to which doll my children will hold close on a cold night, you can keep your idols of bronzed Californians. The soft comfort of a Scandinavian in plaid will do just fine.

Haus Ware

Form and function duel like warriors in a Wagner opera: The more intense the distinction, the more sure you can be that they are, in a sense, really one and the same. The first time my eyes took in the improbable Byzantine curves of the 7 White Matte Bottle Collection by Sara Paloma, I knew that no matter how well these stoneware vessels might pour, they can be no question that their purpose is to create an atmosphere all on their own. With a soft upward movement that draws to a point, calling to mind perhaps the minarets of the Near East, or alternatively, the irresistible, smile-inducing shape of soft-serve ice cream, Paloma has succeeded in crafting a set of bottles that could conceivably class up the loft or beachhouse-- but would be far more appropriate as a haus conversation centerpiece in a properly modern environment. The verdict: Form wins, but so do we all, simply by learning to appreciate the delicate, painstaking process by which something so superbly unique is finally achieved.

Visit Sara Paloma Pottery here to view her collection.

Doll Days Revisited

Designers such as Jess Brown know that the crucible of dollcraft is not the touch test, but the feel test. As early Americans proved in the swaddling of figurines with cornhusk and pine needles, fingertips are notoriously overrated in the evaluation of a doll. A fabulous doll, rather, is one that appears to feel, and inspire her owner to feel, an emotion true to the human condition. What I love about the Jess Brown collection goes far beyond the uniqueness of each design or the earthy sensibility of composing art from fabric remnants. The allure of her craft is in the nascent femininity caught in the expressions of the dolls: curveless bodies, teardrop-shaped heads adorned with nondescript faces, swordstitched dashes sufficing for eyes not yet opened to appreciate real evil.

While the temptation here is to link Brown’s work with an overall movement toward minimalism in toy design, or perhaps a cyclical revival of Folk Art, the truth is that the cloth doll genome maps out over centuries, as evidenced by the resurgence of dollmaking at the hands of Shoshone, Lakota Sioux, and other such tribal craftsmen. Brown’s special contributions to this tradition, however, are truly her own: bold, funny, and often intentionally incongruent design schemes, marked by unconventional hoods and hairpieces, clothing prints that are chic and mature, and a sense of time and place that is well-rooted without losing the whimsy that makes a girl fall in love with that doll in the window. Keep your Barbies and Cabbage Patch Kids. Jess Brown knows who she is, and something tells me the rest of the world soon will, as well.

Visit Jess Brown Design at: www.jessbrowndesign.com