Gou Pei had been on my calendar for weeks.
I try to keep my calendar sprinkled with activities. Without Jon to provide a reliable source of companionship, I’ve taken to scheduling regular human contact into my days and weeks. I fill my calendar with events that reassure me, on paper at least, that I’m still a part of the human race.
And so, when two friends invited me along on an expedition to the Guo Pei show at the Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, I said yes, and Guo Pei — whoever that was — became one more entry on my social calendar.
In the weeks that followed, Guo Pei pretty much slipped my mind.
Until I arrived at the show the other day, that is, and got my socks knocked off.
Guo Pei does not slip the mind. She’s a fashion designer whose imagination knows no limits, geographic or cultural. China’s past, European architecture, Buddhist iconography, and the possibility of a parallel universe — all fall under her spell in this opulent show.
Guo Pei has an interesting mind of her own, and she was great company for a day at the beautiful Palace of the Legion of Honor. But the companionship that mattered most, of course, was that of the two old friends who thought to invite me along.
China’s Guo Pei
Much touted in the Western fashion world as China’s premier couturier, Guo Pei was born in 1967. She made her mark internationally in 2015, when Rihanna wore one of her gowns to the “China: Through the Looking Glass” Met gala.
This show, Guo Pei: Couture Fantasy at San Francisco’s Palace of the Legion of Honor through September 5, displays examples of the artist’s fantastic — literally — work from 2010 to 2020. It includes more than 80 works from her various collections, shown from Beijing to Paris over the years. .
Take a look.
What do twenty-first-century people in China really wear? Check out “For China’s Young Fashionistas, the Cultural Revolution Is So Over.” My husband Jon and I tried our hand at some design work ourselves back in 2020, with pretty good results: “Hey, HGTV Fans. Take a Look at Our Remodel.”
For more about Jon and the life I’ve been leading without him, check out this story:
Widowed: Or, How to Wrestle a Christmas Tree Into Its Stand Without Calling the Neighbors for Help
Where I come from . . . that is, when I come from, which is the middle of the twentieth century . . . wrestling a Christmas tree into its stand is the man’s job. My husband died ten months ago, so there is no man in the house any more. But that doesn’t mean there won’t be a Christmas tree in our living room this year.
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