In Kayce Armstrong's world, things are not what they seem. A shower curtain is really an evening gown, a pair of pants is actually a skirt and a seat covering is a sexy dress. At least, these objects will become these other things once Armstrong is done with them. The founder of the Hollywood-based clothing company Art of Shade, Armstrong takes an unorthodox approach to fashion design, insisting that anything made of fabric can be transformed into something else.
"I never see a piece of fabric as becoming one thing," she explains. "I might take a pair of pants, turn it into a skirt and then eventually into a dress. Sometimes, mistakes lead to making an even better version of something. … Art of Shade is about recycling old, discarded things into really beautiful, one-of-a-kind garments."
As an example, Armstrong points to some button-down cardigans piled inside her sewing room. "Those are going to be deconstructed today," she says of the sweaters she picked up while thrift-shopping in Miami's Flamingo Plaza.
Armstrong operates six clothing lines under the Art of Shade umbrella. Sweater Nation consists of dresses made completely from deconstructed sweaters. Earth Line is a hippie-chic, nature-inspired line utilizing browns and taupes. Shade Bouquet specializes in feminine, floral-patterned pieces. Midnight Garden is a collection of silver party dresses inspired by the moon. Kaos features sexy, dark-hued and formal clothing. And Copertura Della Sadia, which means slipcover in Italian, produces dresses made from chair covers such as those found in banquet halls.
"I'm challenged by the idea that you could take a brocade chair cover or vintage netted shower curtain and turn it into something totally unexpected like an evening gown," Armstrong admits.
The 30-something designer has devoted most of the space in her Hollywood home to her creations. Her living room resembles a mini showroom; racks of clothing and baskets filled with belts and beads are scattered throughout the house like confetti. A large model sailboat is anchored by the front door, along with souvenirs Armstrong picked up while vacationing in Africa and Europe. Large wooden rosary beads dangle from a nail.
"I got those while I was in Italy," she says. "I lived there for six years and became fluent in Italian. I was a fit model for Giorgio Armani and did a lot of print work."
Armstrong, who was born in Columbus, Ohio, began making her own clothes in high school after her parents divorced and she was forced to move into a duplex with her father. "I had to [make my clothing] because we didn't have much money," she recalls. "But I was always the best-dressed [person in school]."
At 18, she left the Midwest for Honolulu, where she served as an intern with the clothing company Princess Kaiulani Fashions. "It was my first brush with the fashion world before getting into modeling," she says.
Fifteen years later, Armstrong switched her focus from modeling back to designing and moved to South Florida, where she found quick success. She began producing a multitude of garments, which she sold to several boutiques, and she even reached the final round of auditions for the Bravo reality series Project Runway.
Then, one day in 2004, Armstrong began coughing up blood. "I went to a clinic and they told me 'If you don't go into the hospital right now, you'll die,' " she relates.
Armstrong had contracted tuberculosis and had been suffering from the infectious disease for five months before her diagnosis. "I was hospitalized for 28 days and almost lost my entire right lung," she says.
She had to be quarantined for six months. "I was sitting alone in my house quite a bit and I was very weak," she remembers. "I'd go into my sewing room to try to sketch and I'd have to almost immediately lie back down again."
Only her fiancé, sailboat rigger Christian Dam, and a couple of friends stuck by her. "It was a very dark time in my life. I went from having a bunch of friends to just a handful," Armstrong reveals.
Last November, she finally felt well enough to begin working full-time again. Today, she employs two seamstresses, Joset Carter and Barbara Marcelius, and intern Rosabel Ginart.
"She's gotten me to live and think outside of the box," Marcelius says of Armstrong. "One night, the sofa-bed mechanism in my pink, leather couch broke and I was inspired to literally rip the leather off with a knife to use for something else."
Because Armstrong doesn't want to design alone, she's planning to open The Shade Post, a store and design studio where people could learn about the process of deconstructing clothes and purchase Art of Shade garments. "I never want a typical boutique where you sit around and wait for people to buy your clothes," she explains. "I'd like to consult people when they walk in the door, find out their interests and then direct them toward the line that would suit them best."
Given her recent health problems, Armstrong is motivated to teach others about her techniques and the excitement that derives from transforming one garment or object into another. "If something happens to me," she notes, "my team will continue my work."
"When I think about fashion, it's like, who cares?" she adds. "If I had it my way, I'd just walk around with jeans, flip-flops and a tank-top. But to whip something up from completely reconstructed materials, that's interesting to me."
For more information about Art of Shade, call 305/776-1223 or visit Artofshade.com.