An editorial study in contrast
A dramatic dress, an old building, and an unexpected reflection on how two very different people can complement each other so well
I don't remember exactly where the idea came from. Sometimes I see an image, a color, texture, or feeling in someone else's work and something catches. Sometimes the idea comes from divine intervention and I just have to do something about it.
This time, the idea came first. Then I went looking for the most dramatic tulle dress I could find and happened upon this one on Amazon.
In 2022, I was working for myself, consulting for entrepreneurs, and running a local gift box business. I definitely wasn't in a season of life where I could justify buying an extravagant dress just because I had an idea. So I did what I had to do. I ordered the dress, kept the tags on during the shoot, and planned to return everything afterward. I just wanted to see if I could make the vision real.
At the time, an upper floor of Erie’s PACA building sat empty. The building dates back to the 1800s and has been home to artists and creatives for years, so it was already poised for creative exploration. It's also where I spent a lot of time at the pottery studio I used to help run and teach in. I knew the space well, but in this context it felt different. Moody. Textured. The perfect canvas to play with.
Fortunately for me my husband Dave and my photographer friend Jessee Treiber understood my vision and were down to spend an evening with me experimenting with the idea. Both are the kinds of people ready for any adventure and are wildly talented at most things they try, so I knew we were about to make something extraordinary.
We wandered from room to room and let the building & light guide us. The best moments happened when we were just paying attention and responding to what was in front of us. At one point I started throwing the dress into the air because I wanted to capture even more movement from the fabric. A spontaneous decision turned into some of the most visually captivating photos of the evening.
I remember feeling confident in a way that surprised me. Powerful, too. The dress was soft and dramatic and completely impractical. The black boots underneath grounded it and made it feel a little more like me, yet connected me with the space and my husband beside me.
Looking back, I realize this whole shoot became an exercise in contrast. Softness and decay. Movement and stillness. Light and shadow. Juxtaposition that complements rather than competes, where one is is not whole without the other.
And reflecting on the experience through the photographs, it feels like a metaphor for my marriage. My husband and I are different in so many ways. We often approach life from two different angles and bring distinctive energies into a room. But somehow those differences fit together. We've spent years learning how to hold space for one another while staying entirely ourselves.
One of the most moving images happened on the roof, where the wind was whipping and snow was falling from the sky. We're huddled together, embracing each other and looking out over the city. Nothing about it was planned. It's quiet and simple and somehow says everything I feel about us.
Maybe that's why these images still make me emotional. They became about something much bigger than I intended. They're a reminder that very different things can occupy the same space and make each other more whole. And that sometimes contrast is exactly what's needed to create balance.