by Zac Funstein
Soon there was the sound of Alarico returning on his scooter.
“Is everything okay Enrico with your magic-dust?”
The intonation was mocking even slightly derisory.
“What was that Herzt ad-’we try harder’.”
“I don’t know what they expect sometimes-they come in with their vacuums plus their unintelligible check-sheets. The scramble after every speckle but what they anticipate finding I just don’t know.”
“I’ve run the gamut here but can’t seem to find anything. Maybe here should be airless-we should be walking around in spacesuits.”
“We get those sometimes-try to leave here spick-and-span before you go.”
When Albert related his meeting with Tobias Louise F. Mikkelsen was taken to how when a little girl, trailing after her father around the house (for her father was so rarely in) sometimes Louise would discover him in the cellar at what Mikkelsen Snr called his workbench; here, dad had electrical tools, as well as hammers, pliers, screwdrivers. You don’t have to know much of Mikkelsen to realize that Louise on occasions really disliked her father.
This was a particularly fascinating story of parenting gone wrong because its surface lacks the sort of dramatic events that we have come to associate with developmental disaster. Although ostensibly from a united family, with pioneering parents plus siblings that were loved; our subject enjoyed a colonial upbringing that provided the delights of nature in the brutal beauty of Western China where her father was a apothecary/ missionary. There were no flagged disasters, no incidents of violence, no abuses of marijuana or heroin, no early demises or peculiar peccadilloes. Her mother cared for the children, worried over them, spoke of them fondly. Despite the absence of the sort of events that would justify being called distasteful and ungrateful, Mikkelsen claimed that her childhood had left her ‘a walking casualty’, for the agency believed ‘that some rarer pressures, even well-meant ones, were as damaging as physical hurt’. From her earliest awareness of her inner emotions, Louise found herself in a fugue state, escaping, escaping from a bleakness that defied description. There were many delights in her childhood, that was acknowledged readily, but darkness dominated, the misery of childhood that cuts to the quick and seems to last an eternity.
Louise tried to get Albert to stress just what it was that must be done whilst engaging the Eden Services rep in meaningful discourse.
“The answer is plain Mikkelsen I cannot emphasise enough-you must find out just how much of the Stractoria is included to determine whether the denim is fabric or purely mass produced.”
Albert was to state anon ‘I was trying to remain relaxed/ in control but inwardly I was panicking. I knew desperate measures were necessary to get to the core of this. I knew someone with more dynamism than myself was necessary’.
Louise was taken in visually for a moment a tall, slim yuppie attractive in a woman- in-uniform kind of way. Ever since they found the little baby dirty generally unkempt, but healthy in a cardboard box together a closeness had formed but it had diminished somewhat. Admiring her pluck/determination Albert reluctantly took her on so a fascinating relationship of substitute father/daughter emerged at least that’s what some said though there were those who might deny this.We fatuously anticipate that we might draw from the human tragedy itself a common destiny which should bring its own healing, that we might extract from life's very misfortunes a power of coöperation which should be used against them.
When Louise arrives Eden Services employee Tristan C. Østergaard was watching TV. The caller had been warned that since the board reshuffle in which Tristan was demoted (although this was not called this but something suitably polite to hide the reality) Østergaard had been more circumspect about visitors deeming this downgrading as a result of a meeting within such a setting.
Ewan MacGregor’s superb acting (his swashbuckler twinkly persona is as devilish a retread of Errol Flynn as possible) entrances them both momentarily. The monitor seemed to have an almost iconic significance as if Tristans mission was to destroy the most illegal of commodities, -then to substitute flickering-imagery instead. There was even a model cross which had been seen somewhere before then it was realised then it was a replica from the atrium of the Mission San Javier in Baja California Sur. His favourite programmes are soaps, game shows, 'reality TV' shows, dramas, but comedies are popular too it is learnt. Here is sparsely decorated, with a Notorious B.I.G. poster hanging in the living room beside a dartboard with adjacent Nerf hoop.The garage has become such a special hang-out for special man-projects that DIY is even devoting special programming to it: ‘My Ultimate Workshop’, a special scheduled looks at tricked-out garages and basements where guys hone their crafts, be it French polishing, car restoration, or model-train building.
Tristan pock marked (about the size of Mikkelsen’s dead father) wearing an open, torn shirt plus breeches with shiny worn patches quickly gets into his favourite subject: denim.
“I see this as a post-war phenomena Ms.Mikkelsen the mainstream was looking to pluck something exciting from the counter-culture. Something to sell to the baby-boomers that needed an identity of their own.”
Everywhere were the accoutrement of large indoor games - table tennis, snooker, table hockey plus another dartboard with rubber-tipped darts, those that you need plenty of space for, such as a garage, to set them up. There is a broken television remote plus an ominously arranged blindfold; the board seemed to suggest it had been used repeatedly-with much standing in front of such trying to hit the centre, as if someone might have said-you are bound to miss sometimes, but your errors will be randomly distributed around the middle of the circular board.
“You have a pair of strengths that you use of the Stractoria Mr. Østergaard?”
“That is true but before we go into any finer nuances let us show you something Louise that will deepen your understanding-if such is possible.”
A shopping- bag of what seems like Nordic Runes is tipped onto the adjacent sofa. Why Darius could be used was never learnt.
“Some of these particular clay tablets were rectangular in form, but others were circular, resembling our board here with several divisions.”
The dartboard is lifted as per illustration though the connection is tenuous it seems to Louise who is not so churlish as to mention this.
“Before you ask the rectangular tablets are the more advanced-with the circular being a precursor. This is how they arrive to us from Consumers Express -we then compress them until they are in a form suitable to use. It's an exhilarating experience to be involved in the manufacture: the crisp, high-altitude air which seems to be a byproduct is exhilarating; fresh powder makes a swiftly carved vertiginous skyward smoke trail in your wake too if you watch closely. Once-indeed once only, I believed I saw something -- a darker shadow, high up like a mountain cloud thrusting mirror-flakes but then it was gone uncaptured by electronic medium.”
“You must have been scared of destroying the ozone layer or creating some new pollutant.”
Either this wasn’t heard or deflected for Tristan exclaimed.
“Whatever this is-Østergaard-used for the more discerning range or run-of-the-mill-I can tell you when it was made anyway.”
“I’m very pleased to hear that Eriksen.”
“It was like you were mentioning about the smoke there must have been some dread of pollution on Consumers Express’s part too-because they have altered the contents repeatedly since its creation-let’s be honest with ourselves- this isn’t fireworks that went pop-pop-popping skyward from a pavilion roof.These are the same contents but much more purified as CE whittled the impurities down. It can be determined when this was made just by the level of these.”
“How old was the denim then that caught itself on the vehicle?”
“Wanna take a guess Louise?”
“Last fall Albert!”
“Sorry, this just won't do-you’re almost there. I almost like where you're going with this.”
“Wi
thout boasting I can tell you almost to the moment that it was made last Easter. The removal of impurities improved then so there is a quantum leap which is very distinct.”
Turning as if to say goodbye the building’s glass stretched up from the sidewalk; even set against the glass/ chrome anonymity of the airport it is hard to know which would win. A jet liberated from the horizon let out a roar that reverberated like thunder as if in acknowledgment of this.
When Louise was once more safely in her own confines- as was sometimes characteristic one of her favourite pictures was enjoyed. They seemed to give her succour in times of trouble-they spoke through the ages. The air was beginning to heat up, the city had little air inwardly. Mikkelsen groaned at the prospect of spending the day in that heat.
Patrick B. Steffensen’s graphic work- drawings featuring freehand scribbles, carefully lined curves, erasures plus tonal blurring was the creation that seemed to please at the moment. Glass Painting (small articles of freehand design using glass paint) was currently in. Simple, shining geometric shapes freely etched on furnishings was Patrick’s new fad but then it was transparency all the way. It was called ‘Changeling Of The West’ which was uncanny because one of those deemed better at adjudging if this was the low-grade or high grade Darius had been described as a changeling in an article. After defecting from chemical giant Colbern Limited to Eden Services Bellamy Durand had been so labelled for better or worse.
Østergaard had been candid with Louise -sure the capability was his to be able to discern the worth of the Darius but if a really top notch assessment was her wish then Durand was who should be sought without question. Once offered the superintendency of the entire Canadian Coastal Geodetic Survey, Durand had found his field work with Darius too interesting to leave. When quizzed as to why him out of the many who must now be able to perform the fairly standard litmus like test his talent was chosen-the admiration of Steffensen’s frosty sketches as an admission came.
‘I'm pretty good with geography, although drawing all the states blind is a lot tougher than it seems. As to making utilitarian drawing-to-scale making plans/ elevations, or the reproducing of meaningless twirly curves/ twiddly twists from symmetrical conventional ‘copies’-I’ll have to leave it to some other guy,’ Bellamy confessed as per a reply. How watching a video of cutting compound curves into solid blocks of glass with a band saw was like watching Jimi Hendrix play guitar or Evel Knievel jump the Grand Canyon was dismissed.
Middle-aged, unexciting, shrewd well balanced in his whole outlook upon life, physically, Bellamy in tweed Victorian suit had retained his imposing presence. A man of exceedingly strong opinions intensely nationalistic views Bellamy was not. An undated photo, shows him sitting on some outdoor steps surrounded by well- dressed men/ women at the Southern Christian Leadership Conference which seemed to testify to this.
“Don’t get us wrong I’ve seen Østergaard’s stuff I couldn’t understand it being as it was replete with mathematical formulas -Tristan stated his case with a rare cogency/ persuasiveness. I’m sure that if anyone could determine if this is dross or not it would be him.”
What Durand did not let on was how Østergaard had taken him around his new apartment decorated with keepsakes from his yearly month-long sojourns around the world.
The wallet that had fallen from his pocket was stuffed full of pictures, letters, keepsakes and prayer cards. Since then Durand was unable to see a prayer card without immediately coming up with Østergaard’s name. The only one that Durand had was of Sai Baba. An Indian friend had given it to him. A quiet, inoffensive gentleman of the old style, who devoted his time to his work / family Østergaard’s diffidence hid a dynamite ability to unravel math.
“Tristan is always outwardly, no doubt inwardly, as confident as ever in his approach plus his conviction that getting it wrong is not an option. I am surprised that you weren’t told immediately what grade this was.”
The last Østergaard Mikkelsen had known was like that—overly expressive—the kind of guy who cried at a greeting card commercial. They were an editor of a magazine that filled their pages with narcissistic young men sporting fashionable clothes/ accessories. They persuaded other young men to study them with a latte mixture of envy/desire. Maybe this one was the reverse to compensate for this trait. Maybes weren’t any good what they needed was certainty.
A move up a floor to where the grading will occur is made after this-there is only the barest minimum paraphernalia however. This spartan utopia in which ‘Celui qui dit qu'il ne croit pas à l'amitié est banni’ ( ‘He who says that he does not believe in friendship is banished’) is written in marker pen on a poster, is soon very busy. While thus intent, Bellamy continued to move around the littered floor of the dingy room, with the undulating restlessness of something wild in the confines of its den, Durand now went on, in short fragmentary sentences, very slightly linked together, but smoothed, as it were, into harmony by a certain enthusiasm.
“I'm hoping that this will be more like a store eventually: a little more casual/personal. A bell jingles as you enter, an old man in a dust-coat gives a greeting from behind a counter.
Somewhere I can talk about, well, anything that comes up, from the trivial to the profound. No sense of formality/ occasion enhanced by dress code: jacket/ tie, no strictly no jeans or T-shirt.”
“Skip the chandeliers/ belle époque nymphs.”
“It will come, but it will take a while-we’re getting there.”
Bellamy is about to go into depth but a cacophony of construction from the nearby building works begins. Adjoining hospitals being amalgamated under some superintendency were to become the Christian General Hospital-all under a single guidance.
“I have lost count of the conversations I've missed because of wailing sirens, the hydraulics of arriving-trucks plus the dulcet thrub of pneumatic drill tucking into tarmac. Mrs. Durand unstable/ excitable with her intolerance of noise of all kinds is naturally very peeved.”
“I’m sure it must be very distressing to endure.”
Soon his objective professionalism in describing the grading brought an otherwise boring activity to life.
“Thls used to be called ‘identity theft’ -changes in employment that have downgraded the status of many of the old professions have rendered this term almost meaningless however. The rejuvenation of Brisbane's inner suburbs is creating new precincts- heavily unionized, they offer their employees de-facto lifetime tenure doing just this.”
As a child highly active, easily excitable, someone who likes taking risks then getting into mischief Bellamy found this fiddliness relatively easy. This was someone who enjoyed goofing for the minutiae crowd no question.
“Interesting Louise.”
It was the initial use of her christian-name it made her listen closely.
“I’m not sure as the worth of the Darius but one thing is certain this is stretch nylon that we have here. I’d actually stake my career on this Louise.” It was said as if a reaction had been anticipated, when none came from Mikkelsen Bellamy continued: “There are a variety of styles, cuts, fits; such as tapered, slim, skinny, and even anti-fit (i.e. loose/baggy)-we now have to decide which one.”
“There are so many jean-victims who bought poor denim or look bad,” explained Vaden Pirouet whose grandfathers were French revolutionists, excitable, warm-hearted, half-educated, who lost their moral balance in the chaos of the revolutionary period, now a Savile Row-trained tailor former denim specialist at Favus St. “People ask themselves, ‘how hard can it be?’ I can fix the gap with a burlesque bustle belt, or if they have the grossest shape in the world, they don’t realise that an itty-bitty embroidered pocket isn’t going to help. But I’m not a miracle worker Ms. Mikkelsen.”
Louise had made an embroidered pocket once as a gift. When stitching on jeans you can stitch directly as Mikkelsen did, or you could remove the pocket then stitch the design on- re-sewing the pocket back to the jeans. Louise didn't worry not having a pocket so just s
titched it together with the jeans for this design a silver metallic thread was used.
I want to die at well past the ton with an American flag on my Levis plus the star of Texas on my denim jacket, after screaming down an Alpine descent on a bicycle her grandfather had said. I want to cross one last finish line as my family applaud. There is to-day a strong party in Japan which makes ‘Japanism’ their cry; they denounce all expressions of universal good-will as proofs of deficiency of patriotism-well I’m for ‘Americanism’! I want to lie down on American ground to gracefully expire, the perfect contradiction to my once anticipated poignant early demise her grandfather had declared.
It had been this silver flag which Louise had sewn so skilfully.
At Vaden’s stores from New York to Los Angeles, to Toronto, purchasers can match style to body type, even advise on such as thread count, weave even selvage (the edge of the fabric that doesn’t fray)-almost all are proliferating at almost the same rate as new jeans companies.
“Selvage don’t talk to us about selvage,” moaned Vaden who had a store in Vancouver called Self-Age (self-age, selvage get it).
Balzac's ambivalence toward a neatly organized vision of ‘reality’ had found an adherent in this fussy Frenchman.
“To understand what ‘selvedge’ means, you need to understand a bit of history on fabric production.”
Louise hadn’t meant to ask about this but before they could stop Pirouet was going at full throttle.
“In the dark-ages when James Dean/Marlon Brando road on motorcycles, most fabrics — including denim — were made on shuttle looms.”
“Shuttle looms produce tightly woven strips of heavy fabric if I am correct. We had a lot of instances of employers engineering accidents to get insurance claims one time.”
“That’s it-you must have seen these in the department stores- these strips of fabric came finished with tightly woven bands running down each side that prevent fraying, ravelling, or curling. Because the edges come out of the loom finished, denim produced on shuttle looms are referred to as having a ‘self-edge,’ hence the name ‘selvedge’ denim, but more importantly this has a unique appearance.”