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I watched this older woman’s body shrink as I, a younger woman, interrupted her with my boisterous joviality. She disappeared as if a child being shooed away while the adults were talking. My heart sank as I realized I had done to her what I began noticing happening to me: that the world makes way for better, younger women, and the cycle never stops, you just become forgotten.

While intentions are never quite as cynical, I am beginning to feel edged out of society. Technology is moving faster than I care to realize, make-up techniques are needed beyond my skill set, and I don’t recognize the songs in commercials. I sometimes feel like I’m no longer a person, or a woman with feelings or desires.

MOTHER FUCK A “LIKE” THIS “BABY” IS LOOKING FOR “LOVE” was made from “older” women's clothing. I collaged these different fabrics and materials, hand stitching them at the dinner table as my husband sat back and watched a game. In my luggage I dragged this heavy cloak across the country, and I installed it on a male mannequin as my needs for a female torso were ignored.


Elements of bondage are pieced together using materials from handbags. Bondage is not only in reference to being entrapped in this shroud, but a call back to my younger days working in the fetish industry and the attention I would receive through it -and the increasingly lack of it now. While this type of body harness is seemingly easy to escape, the invisible lines keep the figure tightly held in place.

We gain weight as we get older, and they say black is a slimming color.

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