Nexus

Chainwork

I was born in Joinville, a city in the South of Brazil known for being an industrial town. The city, which has around 600 thousand people, is nicknamed as “Manchester Catarinense,” a nod to the English city known for being the first industrialized city in the world.1 In fact, the industrial mindset there is so strong that my parents pushed me away from studying anything related with the creative field - I went on to study Information Technology then, which later became my profession for thirteen years. There still exists a stigma around artistic practices, especially in places far from the big cities such as Sāo Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. Even in these places, being an artist is extremely difficult, so it is not hard to imagine how much of a hurdle it can be outside of these places. 

When thinking about creative work and the Brazilian economic context, craft and handicraft are far more accessible compared to art practices such as painting and sculpture. This is even more true when it comes to fiber-based craftwork such as knitting, crochet, embroidery, quilting, and sewing. The initial investment is relatively low, which means that it is accessible to a large number of people from different economic backgrounds; all you need is yarn, needles, and someone to teach you the skills. In fact, growing up I never met an artist, but I've met countless crafters and artisans. This someone is, most of the time, your grandmother; maybe your own mother, or some older woman related to your family somehow, which means knowledge is passed from one person to the next, from one generation to another, like chainwork. 

Art, Craft, Handicraft, and Design

I vividly remember on Wednesdays, after school, I always passed by a small market set up in front of the public library on my way home. There were a great variety of handmade objects - mostly articles of clothing, home textiles, stuffed animals, and handmade jewelry. You could definitely see the makers’ hands in all those pieces displayed on tables under heavy plastic makeshift tents; there was so much care and honesty put into each product. That place, known as “Feira do Príncipe,” felt special to me, because in many ways, that was the closest thing I had from an art museum. There were a variety of modes of making - from pieces made from scratch to customization of ready-mades - so the products, in all their variety, could be understood as art, design, craft, or handicraft depending on your own aesthetic values.

The literature on these concepts - art, design, craft, and handicraft - struggles to put them into words; and I do too. Largely, we have a “feeling” of what they are based on preconceptions: material cost and history, market value, personal value, labor intensity, history and knowledge in general. However, these preconceptions are hardly objective and highly dynamic: in Brazil we usually use craft and handicraft interchangeably. History moves and modifies these definitions, and our biases and personal references blur them. Looking the word “Craft,” we can learn that it comes from Kraft2 (Old High German), meaning power. It gives birth to the craftsman, someone with skills and dexterity. It is interesting to think about words in English and in Portuguese and how both languages relate to each other. To me, craft is artesanato (artisan-made) and craftsman is artesão (artisan). Both have “art” in it, which makes it even more confusing to put a finger on their idiosyncrasies. 

Besides the hardship of placing these terms into concrete definitions, there is an even greater struggle when trying to understand craft’s history within the Brazilian context. The lack of official documentation means that, sometimes, history needs to rely only on memory. Still, I remember my grandmother knitting and doing crochet, and I remember her heavy-looking  metal sewing machine, with its foot pedal, and the loud sounds coming from her sewing room. These memories, sometimes, are all that we have to hold onto. 

Craft and Handicraft Context

My work is heavily influenced by the idea of the house, as an architectural and cultural concept, and the housewife - a dona-de casa - is an essential part of it. Historically, housewives are the women who stay at home and take care of the family, manage the house, clean, and cook. Many of these women can’t work for several different reasons that usually change depending on economic and cultural aspects. Some left school early to raise their children - which is the case with both my grandmother and mother. Some are not allowed to work because their husbands prefer them to stay at home. Others see the role of the housewife as a traditional one, colored by older ideas on gender roles.3 Regardless of the reason, I believe that hand-made work could - and actually do - provide independence and possibility of engaging with creative forms of expression to this specific group of people that I very much admire. Their strength and resilience greatly influence me in almost everything that I do on a daily basis. 

My mother, although dropping out of school early in her life, was able to join the workforce and be part of the revolution women were - and still are - creating. Women entering the workforce is one of the reasons that handicraft is becoming a rare affair these days. However, if we were to trace the beginning of the “fall of craft", that craft that was instrumental to human history, the creation of the art academies during the Renaissance, particularly in Italy, is a vital moment. Architecture, painting, and sculpture “came to be perceived as meriting special consideration, and their social status was raised to a rank befitting the exercise of elevated minds and the education of noble persons.”4 As a result, the other modes of expression that didn’t fit inside these realms were relegated to a limbo, where manual trades were perceived as a lesser accomplishment intellectually.

The devaluation of manual labor is also evident when we think about the colonization of the Americas, and here I wish to focus on Brazil specifically. Craft was already existent before the Portuguese arrived at what is now known as Brazil. The rich cultures of the several different indigenous people that were displaced and slaved after 1500 must be mentioned, and craft, of course, was a huge part of these peoples’ expressions. “Erasure” here is the word: there was erasure of people, as much as there was of culture, and this erasure was later extended to the African peoples brought to the Portuguese colonies as part of the Slave trade. Yes, Brazil today is a melting pot: Indigenous and African culture seeped into the European project, but it didn't happen without fight and resistance.5 

In the colonies, manual labor was avoided and despised by the “free men,” being delegated to the indigenous and african people, racialized and inferiorized by the colonizer, just as manual labor itself was. European art and craft became diffused throughout the territory by the several religious orders - Jesuits, Franciscans, Benedictines, and Carmelites, - which had a fundamental role in the education and civilization programmes sponsored by the Portuguese monarchy. Churches, schools, monasteries, and convents were built with the intent to fulfill European intellectual standards using local materials and indigenous and slave labor, at first. Although despised by these religious orders, manual labor was essential to the maintenance of these structures and the hierarchical diffusion they sought after. Later, these spaces allowed European women, but only the ones who were not considered “marriage material.”6

Religion institutions shaped men to a life in politics and civic duties, and women to become great wives and mothers. In the beginning of the nineteenth century, women - Indigenous, African, and European - were educated by the French Artistic Mission on singing, piano playing, and French handicrafts such as lacemaking, embroidery, and crochet. These skills were later implemented in public and private schools’ curriculum, cementing women’s role and place in the domestic realm, transporting the European bourgeoisie’s textile techniques into the day to day life of the commoner women.

Another important event to consider in the context of craft occurred in the eighteenth century, with the Industrial Revolution. Scale production, division of labor, and mechanization slowly became the norm and the future. This further diminished manual labor’s importance; something to be erased from society “through the continued perfectibility of machine technology.”7 Handiwork was performed at home by the less educated or senile, those who could not join the workforce; Men were out working in the factories and women stayed at home. Handicraft, especially textile-based ones, again, became even more connected with femininity and the domestic, which allowed them to engage further with notions of comfort and taste within their surroundings.

The democratization of textile-based goods, whether handicraft or industrial, spread the elite’s exclusivity on taste onto other social groups, allowing the middle class to differentiate themselves in fashion and inside the home. This created a need to separate themselves - the dominant culture so far and the keepers of culture -  from the “others,” through a categorization of good and bad taste. The home became a silent battleground where material and ideological concepts became intertwined: “appearances and values provided insight into the way people led, or rather were expected to lead, their lives.”8 This phenomenon is still pretty evident within the Brazilian household and handmade work plays a big part of it for a part of the population.

Finding Inspiration Through Making

Most of the essays contained in this website - and more importantly the concept of the MICRO/MACRO Textiles project - revolve around the idea of departing from an specific piece from the Textile Resource Center (TRC) at SAIC and slow-looking (through magnification and visual images - the MICRO), and, through research, arrive at the greater context that the textile exists in culture (the MACRO). My research project differs from this proposition in two ways. The first one, relates to the initial difficulty in creating a connection between the pieces at the Textile Center and my own artistic research. Most of the objects in the collection have a fashion or garment theme, which didn’t integrate the house and housewife aspects the way I wanted. This prompted me to initiate my research through my own memories and excavating references online. Secondly, I also wanted to take advantage of the assignment and connect deeper with my own culture. The TRC has textiles from several different cultures, however, mine wasn’t  one of them. Using these observations as guidance, I chose to operate in the intersection between the Brazilian home, the Brazilian housewife, and Brazilian craft culture. This point of intersection I found out to be crochet.

Crochet is a type of needlework consisting of interlocking looped stitches. Usually, it is made with a single thread and a hooked needle. To newcomers, knitting and crochet are seen as very similar crafts, but they are distinct in the tools they use (types of needles), techniques, and structure. This amalgamation between both techniques echoes printed sources prior to the nineteenth century, which didn’t differentiate between them and considered both knitting9 and can present a challenge in researching crochet and its history. When  learning to crochet three main steps are considered: the slipknot, the chain stitch, and the crochet stitch. 

The slipknot is a tie knot that slips along the thread in which it is made, placed around the hook needle. It is the starting point for every crochet pattern. The chain stitch is a row of stitches that resemble chains and will serve as the base where the crochet stitches will be looped into. It is important to note that a row of chain-stitches is not considered crochet; it becomes so only after the second row, since crochet is a doubly-interlooped structure. The simplest stitch is named plain-crochet, where “each loop is drawn through two previous loops, the corresponding one in the previous row and the previous one in the same row[,]”10 resulting in a chain-stitch mesh.

It is important to pay attention to the thickness of the yarn being used, as well as the thickness on the needle since both can produce different visual characteristics in the final work. When buying a skein of yarn, pay attention to the needle gauge recommendation for the hooked needle.

Becoming a Housewife

In 2016, during the heat of the presidential election, me and my husband arrived in Michigan to start our new life here in the United States. Coming to “America” was a long dream of mine and being able to fulfill it after thirty-three years was a great feat, to say the least. I came with no expectations, and I couldn’t work without a work authorization from the government, which meant I was bound to be at home for a long time with lots of free time on my hands. I’ve been working since I was sixteen years old and I’ve been pretty independent most of my adult life, so I was excited to experience this different routine. Finding myself inside a different culture than mine prompted me to consume a lot of local and national news and the racism, xenophobia, and bigotry became a daily spectacle that I watched from the comfort of my home. Seeing all that changed me in a deep way. Being a gay Latino immigrant living in a conservative neighborhood meant that I was susceptible to harassment.  

Initially I felt betrayed: the image and dreams I had about the United States, about the “first world country” that seized the name “America” to itself leaving the other Americas behind, was nothing like I thought it would be. Secondly, I felt extremely stupid, naïve even, to believe that life here was any more different than in Brazil. America was torn apart by politics and I was witnessing it from the front row. I was broken. Spending all my days at home, inside, afraid to step outside, self conscious about speaking Portuguese in public, and worrying about my husband’s safety. It was a dark whirlwind, a heavy load in my mind. I found myself homebound in the land of the free.

Taking care of my home and my husband became my full-time job and I mirrored my mother in everything that I did. She never pushed me really hard to learn how to execute house chores, because I am a man, obviously. Men don’t clean; men don’t cook. Men are the breadwinners. Except me. However, she always took so much care with our own home that I learned by example. One day a friend of mine joked about me being the “woman” in my relationship and I became furious about it. How dare she talk like that to me? Inside, I was enraged, and that stuck with me for a long time. Unfortunately, I felt minimized by being a man and not working, losing my “independence,” and being seen as solely a housewife. Being in a homossexual relationship means you are susceptible to this kind of reading from the outside world and I wasn’t ready for it. Or was I?

One day I decided to put my free time to use and teach myself photography. Since I could not leave my home so easily due to anxiety, all I had to photograph was what was around me: my home, my cooking, my domesticity. That evolved and I slowly accepted my newfound role as a homemaker. I thought a lot about it and about that day, when I refused to be labeled as the housewife, and I decided that I was, indeed, a housewife - and a great one. My house and photography became the most important factors in my process of getting better. Interior design and interior architecture became conceptual frameworks for my work. Slowly and steadily photography took me to the garden; then to the street; then downtown; then the rest of the world. Architecture - whether inside or outside - allowed me to become a great housewife and a great photographer too. Architecture and domesticity became the pillars of my new life and I embraced them tightly.

I went back to school, a community college in our town, and started the long process of acquainting myself again with books, deadlines, and professors. I discovered that I actually loved studying and the academic environment more than software development and digital marketing - roles I acted during my thirteen years working in Brazil. I started to study art - another thing I never thought I would be doing, although I always loved it. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and juggling both roles - a housewife and an art student became a passion. Later, I was fortunate enough to be accepted into SAIC and further developed my artistic practice. Although there were bumps along the road, I always say that I am very privileged to be where I am today. I can only thank my husband, my peers, and professors for all the support they gave me along these years.

It feels amazing to be able to pursue what you love and I only discovered this after going through some rough patches. I can honestly say that it was worth it. Women in general and the housewife more specifically - became the springboard for everything that I do. My mother never finished school because she started working very early in life and she had a family and a home to take care of. In a way, my work is about my mother; and her mother too. And about our heritage; our culture. The culture I left behind to come here. And that were the things that made me choose to research and write about crochet and its role inside the Brazilian home. You see, there is a very specific use of crochet inside our homes: they are used in the same way as one would use them as clothing, as fashion. It is a way of self-expression and artistic production that is available in a more popular realm and it is very distinct. At times, it feels like these women are “dressing” their homes, in a fashion sense.

Contemporary Craft and the Home

In Brazil, during the 1980s and 1990s, the handicraft aesthetic went through a period where it became considered brega (tacky or corny), being restricted to a hobby for lower class older women/housewives who congregated themselves in haberdashery shops as a way for socializing, leisure, distraction, affinity, and mental health building. More importantly, this resulted in a strong community building for these women throughout the country, and for handicraft itself. It directly impacted the domestic environment and taste expression through the creation of house items such as tablecloths, dishcloths, rugs, towels, pillowcases, throws, and covers - from countertop appliances to toilet seats. Being born in the 1980s I was able to witness this cultural development closely.

Within this new market that was created, these women were able to generate income for themselves and their families, becoming more independent while expressing themselves artistically. Here, craft became a way to “customize” and beautify household items that the industry standardized. The possibility of different colors, ornaments, textures, and themes empowered the housewife and presented endless possibilities to distinguish one interior from another, interiors which tend to be compulsory neutralized by Industrial Design. This raises issues about standardization and conformity to a prespecified taste, a specific way - the right way - of approaching interior design and interior architecture within the vernacular domain.

In an article called “Colour and Shape: Using Computer Vision to Explore the Science Museum Group Collection”11 researcher Cath Sleeman details an analysis made of more than 7000 different photographs of everyday or familiar objects contained within the museum collection, among them household appliances and other objects common to the domestic sphere. This analysis was able to capture and study the objects’ forms, colors, and textures and an insight into the evolution of designed objects from 1780 forward. The study findings shine light into design trends throughout the years: amongst the 7,083 objects that were analyzed, dark charcoal gray was the most common color, appearing in 80% of the objects ranging from details to overall color. Sleeman states, “The most notable trend [...] is the rise in grey over time. This is matched by a decline in brown and yellow. These trends likely reflect changes in materials, such as the move away from wood and towards plastic.”12 There is removal of color, of texture, and unfortunately, personality.

On “Against Smoothness,” Canadian philosopher Mark Kingwell asks us to consider how much of our surroundings is subscribing to this trend; how “the dominant aesthetic in everything  from running shoes to monumental architecture is the flowing curve and the slick surface.”13 Whenever I went to my grandmother’s home, the crochet pieces that she created worked as a manifesto against the simplicity of the smooth. Through crochet, she was able to make a statement about who she really was at the same time she was able to show that she cared about us and our experience within her home.

Dressing the Body, Dressing the Home

In an essay called “Women’s Domestic Body,” Beverly Gordon analyzes women’s history  during the industrial age through a material culture lens. Gordon mentions the existence of a “conceptual overlay,” meaning that there exists both physical and psychological associations between a woman’s body and domestic interiors. During the rapid urbanization and industrial capitalism period, men’s relationship with fashion was largely a matter of production, while women’s relationship was based on “an almost obsessive preoccupation with proper appearance.”14 This preoccupation became synonymous with social status and Gordon spell it out by noting that “[dress] - the decoration of the body - and interior furnishings - the decoration of the home - together formed what in more contemporary terms has been called the front that projected the desired image to the world at large.”15 Although it is a generalized view on women overall, I don’t dispute Gordon’s views, since she is analyzing mainly western women - English and American - in the turn of the century. I understand this reading on women and household is still visible today in several different cultures, however, in the case of Brazil, I feel that there is another component at play in this equation: care.

Products for the home, such as appliances and furniture, are expensive and the household that these women find themselves in is largely built around one income: theirs or their husband’s income. Dressing the objects in the home using crochet, besides an aesthetic statement, provides a membrane that functions as protection, “shielding” appliances, such as a blender for example, from dust, sunlight, and grime. Crochet performs as an artistic - and inventive - component of the interior and when women make something for their homes there is a stronger connection between these two territories: body and space.

The concept of the membrane is one that is present in my social life as a queer man. Homophobia is still conspicuous everywhere and for this reason, I am always observant of my surroundings and the people around me. I live in a building where the large majority of tenants are older and conservative, which - for better or worse - colors some of my perceptions. I tend to be careful and mindful of how I “perform” around them, almost unconsciously.

I love to stay at home, so I consider my apartment to be my safe haven. Inside is where I feel the most comfortable and where I feel free to express myself the way I want, a self-expression that manifests itself through caring for my family and my home. Design - more specifically interior design - is something I cherish and put a lot of effort in. I create my sculptures mainly for my home. They embody - and filter - all the dark feelings I experienced since moving to the US. Their presence in a daily reminder - a ritual of sorts - of struggles and insecurities that I lived through. I consider my home to be a large altar, a place and a space where I can secretly worship this new person that I’ve become. This shadow. This other.

Specifically in the Interior Design realm, I feel that gay domesticity is not something well divulged in comparison with heteronormative domesticity, even though there is a strong gay presence in the professional decoration field. It is rare still, to see this type of domesticity represented in design magazines and other publications. They tend to be careful and mindful, too, of how queer relationships are portrayed in a public sphere. A case in point is Henry Urbach’s essay “Peeking at Gay Interiors,” where the Architecture and Design scholar reads into how publications such as “House & Garden (HG), Elle Decor, Harper's, and the New, York Times (Home Design)” tend to show “[straight] couples [cuddling] on the veranda [while] gay couples eschew physical intimacy.”16 He also calls attention to how some of these gay couples are also partners in Design firms and how the ambiguity of the word “partner” allows these publications to “compresses domestic, affectional, erotic, and professional affiliations into a palatable, noncommittal term.”17 There is an outside expectation that looms over the queer home and I believe that design has the potential to function as a framework for anti-oppression, not only in the case of homophobia, but also against other systems such as colonialism, racism, sexism, transphobia, classism and ableism.

This is why I chose crochet as my springboard. I tried to learn via YouTube tutorials and the school’s knitting and crochet club, but crochet is hard. It takes time and dedication, and most of all trust in yourself. The pieces below came all the way from Brazil and I am extremely proud of them. And I firmly believe that these pieces, beyond the aesthetic primacy that is first noticed by the eyes, represent care and self-care, expression and self-expression, and above all they represent opportunities. Opportunities for emancipation and opportunities to be hopeful against macro & micro levels of oppression that still exist today.

Documentation

OBJECT 1 - Capa de botijão de gás (Cooking gas canister cover)

Materials: cotton yarn

Technique: crochet

Artist: Salete Teresinha Zanatta

Year: 2023

Provenance: Balneário Camboriú, Santa Catarina, Brazil.

This object is used as a cover for cooking gas canisters, since in Brazil, it is pretty common to house the canister inside the house, by the gas stove. Gas delivered systems using pipes are more prevailing in the wealthier and more developed areas of the country, which allowed the gas canister to become a cultural symbol representing a certain part of Brazilian society. These canisters are made of steel and maintain their natural steel-color as standard. The crochet cover is a popular item and functions as a “dress” for the steel canister, hiding it in plain sight. Usually, the cover is matched with other crochet objects in the kitchen such as covers, naperies, and doilies.

I was able to talk with Salete, who is the artist that made and sent me this piece. She is extremely proud of this cover and she showed me other crochet pieces that she made recently - including clothes. They are all incredibly beautiful. Salete learned crochet from her mother when she was only seven years old. She is very grateful for being able to do this work and mentioned that she loves to see her clients' responses when she delivers the pieces. 

OBJECT 2 - Toalha grande (large cloth)

Materials: cotton, synthetic threads, and acrylic paints

Technique: crochet,  appliqué , and painting

Artist: Adelane da Silva

Year: 2023

Provenance: Balneário Camboriú, Santa Catarina, Brazil.

This large cloth can be used for several different purposes; they also come in different sizes and with different ornaments and themes. The smaller ones are usually used as a dishcloth, to dry the dishes after washing. In the kitchen, they can be found hanging from the oven handle to dry, from the stove glass cover, or in the housewife’s shoulder. These objects are lighter in composition, meaning that they are made of lighter textiles that can dry fast. For these reason crochet is used only at the hem for decoration purposes. Another common feature is the addition of imagery by hand painting with acrylic paints or silkscreen; these can represent themes such as specific holidays, fruits, vegetables, animals, and flowers. Here, the theme represented is Easter (Páscoa). 

Examples of other dishcloths.

OBJECT 3 - Toalha pequena (small cloth)

Materials: cotton, synthetic

Technique: crochet, sewing

Artist: Adelane da Silva

Year: 2023

Provenance: Balneário Camboriú, Santa Catarina, Brazil.

CODA: New Economies and New Opportunities

With the popularization of the internet, changes are occurring both in the homecare and craft terrain. Due to growing accessibility to technologies and, to a certain extent, COVID-19 and people’s new relationship to the interior and their homes, craft is experiencing a revival of sorts. Among certain trends we can mention the Amigurumi, which is a Japanese artistic expression consisting in creating small stuffed animals or characters using knitting or crochet. Amigurumi and its aesthetics is very popular among teenagers all around the world currently, although this art has been known in Japan for several decades.

Other trends appear throughout social media such as YouTube and Instagram. Craft creators teach tutorials online through videos and create a fan base that later converts into sales. 

At times, we can find some combination of the themes explored in this essay: Maria Batista Oliveira (77) is now retired and uses crochet as a hobby. She went viral for creating crochet covers for Amazon Alexa back in Brazil. Maria created an Instagram account to promote her crochet work, and is now famously known as “Vovó da Alexa” (meaning Alexa’s granny) and even Amazon Brazil got into the fun by sharing Maria’s creations on Twitter. 

Other content creators explore their daily routines as a housewife and share with their public tips about home caring, cooking, and craft making. They produce content geared towards other housewives in partnership with cleaning and food brands.

It is amazing how technology is empowering women and allowing craft and crochet to reach new heights in our culture and economy too. What once was transmitted from mother to daughter now is being broadcast to the entire world, allowing craft and handicraft to become even more popular and democratic, and more importantly, allowing housewives to become more independent as well. Through craft and its connections to home, I too became more empowered. There is a similarity between crochet’s concepts such as interlocking structures, endless repetition, and countless histories (craft, women, and mine too) that is visible in the concept of culture itself. Crochet and culture, interlocked endlessly.

1. “The World’s First Industrial City,” Objects and Stories, Science and Industry Museum, accessed May 12, 2023,  https://www.scienceandindustrymuseum.org.uk/objects-and-stories/worlds-first-industrial-city.
2. “Craft,” Merriam-Webster, accessed May 7, 2023, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/craft#h1.
3. Carol Gravitt, “I Want to Be a Housewife: 7 Reasons Why This is the Right Decision,” Tiny Changes Matter, accessed May 12, 2023, https://tinychangesmatter.com/i-want-to-be-a-housewife/.
4. Glenn Adamson, ed., The Craft Reader (London: Bloomsbury, 2010), 323.
5. Boris Fausto, História Concisa do Brasil [Concise History of Brazil] (São Paulo: Edusp, 2022), chap. 1, iBook.
6. Gustavo Serafim et al., Glossário Colaborativo: Técnicas Têxteis Latino-americanas [Collaborative Glossary: Latin-american Textile Techniques] (São Paulo, SESC, 2021), 5-20.
7. Glenn Adamson, ed., The Craft Reader (London: Bloomsbury, 2010), 324.
8. Mark Taylor and Julieanna Preston, ed., Intimus: Interior Design Theory Reader (Chichester: Wiley-Academy), 324.
9. Cary Karpp, “Defining Crochet,” Textile History 49, no. 2 (November 2018): 208.
10. Ibid., 208.
11. Cath Sleeman, “Colour & Shape: Using Computer Vision to Explore the Science Museum Group Collection,” Science Museum Group Digital Lab (Blog), Medium, October, 8, 2020, https://lab.sciencemuseum.org.uk/colour-shape-using-computer-vision-to-explore-the-science-museum-c4b4f1cbd72c
12. Ibid.
13. Mark Kingwell, “Against Smoothness,” Harper's Magazine, July, 2000, 15-18. 
14. Beverly Gordon, “Woman's Domestic Body: The Conceptual Conflation of Women and Interiors in the Industrial Age,” Winterthur Portfolio, no. 4 (Winter, 1996): 283, https://www.jstor.org/stable/1215239.
15. Ibid., 283.
16. Henry Urbach, “Peeking at Gay Interiors,” Design Book Review 25, (Summer 1992), 38.
17. Ibid., 39.