This exhibit series explores how creative practices, techniques, cultural traditions, and collections originate, are passed on, and ultimately foster new legacies through continuous cycles of transformation and creation.
Drawing from the life, work, research, and collections of Andrea Aranow (1945–2021), these exhibits aim to honor and celebrate her legacy as well as the stories and legacies of the often-anonymous artisans whose textiles she collected.
Curated by Bryan Miller
Before she provided design inspiration to international fashion brands and traveled the world to collect and research artisanal textile practices, Andrea Aranow began her career as a fashion designer. Dakota Transit was the youthful expression of Aranow's fascination with color, clothes, and creative expression. Her clothes were worn by rock stars and socialites and featured in internationally distributed fashion magazines and underground New York papers. She used unconventional materials in unique ways, and her designs were as much a reflection of the personalities of her clients as they were a statement on Aranow's personal philosophy of fashion.
Dakota Transit is the result of Aranow's singular vision but is also a product of its time. The East Village in 1968 was a paradise for creatives and makers. Shops were social spaces where ideas and smoke mixed in the air. Painters, musicians, and fashion designers filled legendary venues like the Fillmore East and the loft spaces that doubled as jazz clubs or art galleries. Dakota Transit sat in the middle of this cultural scene, taking influence from everything around it. While Dakota Transit is the origin of Aranow's long and colorful career, it is also her legacy.
Andrea Aranow was born February 15, 1945 in Springfield, Massachusetts. Like many women of her generation, Aranow first encountered fashion design through a mix of home-economics classes and her mother, Zedra Aranow, an arts writer for the Springfield Daily News. As Andrea Aranow writes in her autobiography, “I made myself something new almost every week... and never stopped sewing after that.”
“I made myself something new almost every week ... and never stopped sewing after that.” —Andrea Aranow
While earning her Cultural History degree at Pembroke College, Aranow spent her free time making clothes to sell to classmates. She crammed her equipment and raw materials into her small dorm and later into her apartment on St. Mark's Place in Manhattan. Her weekends often included a trip to Boston, where she would purchase leathers and snakeskins from jobbers in bulk, with the hope that she could turn the material into sales. This humble beginning was the start of her remarkable journey that would lead her to rent her own storefront.
Aranow had a knack for utilizing any spare scrap materials or space. She worked at a sandal-making shop in Cape Cod during a summer vacation, staying after hours to use the workshop in the back to sew her own leather clothes. She moved to New York City soon after graduating college in 1967. While working an office job, Aranow sought advice on starting a business to sell her unique styles. The response she received was a common one for many creatives aspiring to establish a career: "Don't quit your day job." Despite this, Aranow was undeterred. She found an empty storefront at 333 E. 9th Street, just a couple blocks from her home, and decided to invest in herself.
The early days of Dakota Transit in 1968 were a struggle for Aranow. Fresh out of college, she took a risk that many would think impossible today by renting out a storefront to sell her designs. The space was originally meant to serve primarily as a workshop, since sewing machines and leather scraps had overtaken Aranow's small apartment on St. Mark's. Eventually, Dakota Transit's E. 9th Street location would consist of a workshop in the back and a full showroom in the front.
Garments were displayed in the window from day one and enticed the hip crowd who lived and worked in the surrounding East Village. But Aranow's clothes were often a bit out of reach for the average passerby; Most of Dakota Transit clothes were custom-made for clients, meaning that new patterns had to be made and new materials were sourced for every customer. It wasn't until legendary musician Jimi Hendrix came into the shop and ordered a full snakeskin suit in 1969 that the store gained some traction. Not only was Hendrix's piece the first full snakeskin garment Aranow made, but he paid for it with the first $100 bill she had ever seen. This sale marked a turn in fortune for the store.
Dakota Transit was not a one-woman show. Production of the garments involved a whole team, sometimes from Aranow's own family. Carol Sloane, Aranow's cousin, had her own artistic practice, crafting macrame accessories with feathers and other materials.
Aranow admired her cousin's creations and sold them in the shop, occasionally passing them along to fashion magazine editors. Aranow also employed a team of talented, young creatives to help create these complicated, custom clothes. Artist Kazuko Miyamoto and patternmaker Sally Beers were both part of the team for much of the store's lifespan, and their contributions were integral to the distinctive look of Dakota Transit.
The location was an essential component of the style of Dakota Transit and much of the new visions of fashion in New York in the late 1960s and early 1970s. East 9th Street, situated one block north of the Lower East Side's infamous St. Mark's Place, had evolved into an important destination for fashion, art, and culture. Young designers and boutique owners created a vibrant community and provided inspiration, energy, and resources to each other.
Each shop formed a link in the chain that connected East 9th Street to the rock and jazz music scenes, the Uptown fashion and art crowd, and the press (both mainstream and underground) that helped shape the myth of the East Village as a chaotic and exciting urban jungle populated by conservative Polish and Ukrainian immigrants and long-haired liberal hippies.
While there were cultural differences between these two groups, the clashes may have been exaggerated. East 9th Street was a low-rent refuge for creative people to explore and share ideas that would likely have been rejected by fashion schools and the 7th Avenue stores.
Aranow found inspiration from several sources outside of conventional fashion. One such source was the explosive, experimental music scene that permeated the East Village. Dakota Transit existed practically around the corner from legendary performance venues and clubs such as Electric Circus, The Fillmore East, and Cafe LaMaMa (a cornerstone of the Off-off Broadway scene, out of which came the musical Hair).
Aranow frequented these venues and the many lofts around the Village that featured some of the best jazz musicians in the country. Her husband, Thomas Todd, was a freelance music journalist and served as a bridge between Aranow and the rock scene. These events often doubled as impromptu fashion shows, filled with people showing off their most “funky” outfits. Aranow connected to the music world in other ways as well. Women like Colette Harron, Devon Wilson, and Betty Davis brought attention to East 9th Street fashion through modeling gigs and through their relationships with popular musicians such as Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix.
While Aranow's garments were designed to be worn in the wild, she had several opportunities to demonstrate that her clothes were runway-ready. Her first fashion show entry occurred during her 1969 internship at Revillon Freres in Paris, where she designed a fur and snakeskin coat that was later shown at a popular fashion show hosted at Sak's Fifth Avenue's Park Avenue storefront.
“These clothes really say something. All of this is new. And Andrea? She's wonderful!” —Carol LaBrie
The following year, Aranow had her first chance to display her designs under her own name. A collaboration between the leather brand Fleming Joffe (known for their use of Andy Warhol-designed promotional materials) and Dakota Transit led to a unique fashion event. Aranow exhibited her sense of humor and her penchant for truly original designs through the inventory for the show. Carol LaBrie, a well-known model who was featured twice in the show, told reporters, “I modeled the Paris openings last month and they were so dull... These clothes really say something. All of this is new. And Andrea? She's wonderful!”
Though Dakota Transit only existed for 5 years, it received attention from the mainstream and underground fashion press. Aranow was both a creative designer and a savvy self-promoter. Keeping a business such as hers alive in such a competitive environment was no easy job, and she ensured that her hard work was recognized.
Nationally distributed fashion magazines such as Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, and Mademoiselle were all ways for Aranow to promote her brand to an audience that could afford her custom designs. Perhaps because of the store's location or the radical and unusual patchwork designs, reporters often expressed shock at the prices of Dakota Transit garments. However, these prices simply reflected the costs inherent in making high-quality, custom fashion from expensive materials like snakeskins, leathers, and suedes.
By 1972, Dakota Transit had reached remarkable success, attracting international press and celebrity clients, and expanding to a second location on East 53rd Street. However, in the few years that the store had been in operation, there were quite a few setbacks. The most devastating of these misfortunes was a robbery in 1971, which saw over $13,000 worth of merchandise and materials stolen from the store. After this incident, bills were difficult to pay, even with the routine sales of custom-made clothes.
Additionally, New York City was evolving. Neighborhoods all over the city, though mainly in the Downtown area, were experiencing unprecedented levels of urban blight as formerly reliable industrial jobs disappeared and (mostly White) middle-class families fled to the suburbs. In parallel to these socioeconomic changes, the cultural scene in which Aranow was enmeshed continued to dwindle. Several influential artists, musicians, and other community members had passed away or been otherwise impacted by drug use.
Perhaps the most important change in Aranow's life was the birth of her first son, Shadrach Todd, in 1971. As a newborn, Todd was able to spend his days in the Dakota Transit workshop with his mother. However, as he grew up, Aranow realized that she would have to hire full-time childcare if she wanted to continue running the store, effectively missing out on her son's early development.
These factors disturbed Aranow's optimistic vision of a long career in the New York fashion world. Each summer, Dakota Transit shut its doors so that Aranow and her employees could travel. Searching for a change, she visited Peru during the summer of 1972 and instantly fell in love with the textile practices of local communities. Dakota Transit existed on borrowed time upon her return. The city was not faring much better. The financial decline of New York City would reach its apex in 1975 when the city narrowly avoided bankruptcy. Aranow's sense of knowing just when to move on would come in handy throughout her life. As she sold off the store's remaining stock, Aranow began to plan for the next phase of her career.
Curated by Susana Navarro
While traveling Peru, Andrea Aranow was struck by the beauty of the landscape, the vibrant culture, and the enduring tradition of handwoven clothing. The Peru collection by Andrea Aranow, spanning from the 1920s to the 1970s, gathers, among others, the textiles and embroideries from the Mantaro Valley in the Province of Huancayo which are a testament to a rich tradition that bridges rural and urban traditions but also showcases a mastery of technique, innovation, and the influence of nature upon textile designs, all while chronicling the sociocultural events of their time.
Andrea Aranow spent six-months as a regional textile researcher at the Instituto Nacional de Cultura which inspired her to embark on original fieldwork, gathering and documenting textiles and garments. She saw in these pieces their pre-columbian heritage, their adaptability to the new elements from the colonial era, and integrated them into every social aspect, taking them as canvases that express their creativity.
This exhibition provides insight into the historical context of Huancayo, particularly the transformative period of the 20th century that witnessed significant economic and demographic growth. During this time, traditional Andean iconography merged with contemporary themes and imagery and the works shown demonstrate how textiles, like all art forms, are intrinsically linked to their people's social and material culture, offering a vibrant narrative of the Peruvian Andes.
For the Andean people, the interplay between nature and society is crucial. This agriculture-centric society communicated through oral tradition and textile designs, the latter of which maintained formal standardization, limited colors, and specific ornamental designs with symbolic meanings and messages. Here, the llicllas (Quechua word for mantas) have many uses, such as carrying different products on one's back or cradling a baby (wawa) while retaining the use of one's hands. Color management was crucial in pre-Hispanic times and continues to influence textile creation today, emphasizing contrast and optical effects. Modern textiles, while more flexible in color choices and use, still challenge viewers to uncover the coded meanings.
The Andean approach to color and design is rooted in a deep artistic tradition of complementary opposites and optical contrasts. The search for tinku, or the balance between opposites, underscores the Andean ideal of beauty, achieved through intricate contrasts rather than simple color schemes. Peru has a proud and extensive tradition of weavers dating back to pre-Inca times, and these textiles are not a product of chance or accident but an inheritance of technique and purpose.
“A pattern was introduced into one of the narrow vertical stripes, created from alternately colored warps.” —Andrea Aranow
In 1988, Andrea Aranow wrote the following description of the style of these slates: “A pattern was introduced into one of the narrow vertical stripes, created from alternately colored warps. This feature is called gusano (worm) ... the number of gusanos defined the prestige of the manta.” Aranow found that the use of colors depended on how elegant the wearer wanted the blanket to be. More colors meant a more complicated design, making the garment more expensive. Thus, the Lliclla was a social statement.
In the Mantaro Valley, every day is marked by festivals rooted in religious, agricultural, and social traditions. These traditions reflect a deep connection to the Pacha mama (Mother Earth) and historical events. The region's artistic development is a blend of pre-Hispanic and European influences, and this syncretism is evident in textiles featuring European motifs like swans and peacocks alongside Indigenous imagery.
High relief embroidery, or alto relieve, signified status and social distinction due to its cost and craftsmanship. The tradition also highlighted social and industrial changes over time, with imagery originating from religious iconography and with new techniques introduced during colonial times. The production process involves drafting preparatory drawings, transferring them onto fabric, and constructing raised pieces with cardboard and threads, which are then attached to a sturdy backing.
This art form enhances practical items with aesthetic appeal, often depicting local and foreign flora and fauna, landscapes, and significant events. These designs also usually integrated viceregal iconography featuring national heroes like Simon Bolivar and Ramon Castilla (Peru's president from 1845-1851, 1855-1862, and 1863). Despite evolving with new materials and industrial techniques, alto relieve retains many original production practices.
Andrea Aranow was fascinated by these embroideries, whose subjects stemmed from illustrations found in children's books but whose colors and textures are characteristic of the embroidery artists. In addition, she noted that although this technique comes from European religious clothing, the forms these pieces took are not yet known. In the pieces Aranow collected, it's clear that the first popular motifs appeared in 1915; in the 1930s and 1940s, additional details and lettering increased. Then, in the 1950s, there was an explosion in design practices with bigger, brighter, and bolder colors and patterns. In her fieldwork, Aranow saw firsthand the work of embroidery artists such as Santa Cruz Capacyachi.
These fajas (belts) originate from the people in Viques, south of Huancayo, Peru, which are called Challpi wathraku in the Quechua language. These belts are a staple component of daily clothing in rural areas, as they help women and men maintain correct posture and provide ergonomic support during work in the fields. They are also found in urban areas, and in various festivities and folkloric dances. These garments survived most of the changes inflicted by colonization and modernization and are highly valued as part of the Wanka identity. These exhibit pieces present a symbolic language between the lines that has changed over time, introducing figurative designs.
During her time in Peru, Andrea Aranow collected several dozens of these straps. Her field study of 1974 noted that this tradition was in demand and fetched a high price during that decade. She identified these belts as traditional weaving made by the Eugenio Toribio family, which included various geometric and figurative patterns.
From Fashion Designer to Researcher and Collector
Andrea Aranow was in Peru from 1972 to 1980. During this time, she took the opportunity to visit various regions of the country, such as Cusco, Ayacucho, Huancavelica, Puno, and Cajamarca, among others. But JunÍn captivated her, and she settled in Jauja with her two small children, Shadrach Todd and Caleb Sayan. While there, she began her material culture collection of textiles. Aranow documented these textiles and captured copious details about production methods and sociocultural meanings. She also examined the social and economic problems associated with textile and embroidery production.
Peru was her home for five years and a source of inspiration for several more. In 1981, she and her small family moved to London, England, where the British Museum acquired part of Aranow's collections. Her reasons for moving to the United Kingdom stemmed from the violent period between 1980-2000 in the country and a series of natural disasters. Later, significant portions of her material culture collections and textile collections would find homes in museums and collections such as the British Museum, The Royal Scottish Museum, and The Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Aranow retained about half her material culture collections and dedicated the last ten years of her life to continuing her research and organizing them until her passing in 2021. Her dedication, love and appreciation for textiles and the skilled artisans who created them, is carried forward through this and future planned exhibits organized by Textile Hive.
Dakota Transit: Sonic Couture by Andrea Aranow and Threads of Time: Textile Legacies from Junín, Peru were on display from October 1 to November 17, 2024.
Although these exhibits have closed, we invite you to explore some of the featured materials, along with many others from Andrea Aranow's collections, by booking a tour of Textile Hive.
The Origins & Legacies exhibit series will continue with two new installments in 2026. Sign up for our newsletter to receive updates about our future exhibits.