"Arms. Some got them, others want them. They come in all shapes and sizes. But these...", I hesitate and take a step forward, "...these are ridiculously small. No. Inhumanly small. There's no way someone could (voluntarily) squeeze their flesh through these tunnels." I'm standing, slightly leaned forward, in the Jan Taminiau Reflections exhibition at the Centraal Museum. In front of me hangs -what is meant to be- a sleeve perfectly still, attached to a dress embellished from head-to-toe in glass beads. It is not particularly only this dress with alien sleeves attached to it that's caught my eye. As I straighten my back and somewhat confusedly glance through the exhibition space, I can see a trend coming. Narrow sleeves, alienating narrow sleeves everywhere.

Although I've never particularly been a fan of my arms (they are arms, what do you want from them?), I suddenly become very aware of all the flesh I potentially have to push down through the minimal pieces of fabric that is the sleeve in front of me. A horror image appears in my head of seams bursting in slow-motion and glass beads, sewn on by some poor intern, in waves falling to the ground. Leaving us with an echoing sound of clatter and disappointment.

Miss Marple Mode

As I was attending the opening of the exhibition and irgendwie irgendwann irgendwo a wild Taminiau was walking around -I imagine proudly, slightly tipsy- looking over us mere human-armed peasants, I could've potentially asked the master himself why he again-and-again chooses these sleeves instead of normal un-narrow human-like sleeves. However we all know I'm not worthy enough to question the work of the master. So instead of bothering him with my doubts and fears, I decided to investigate this issue by myself. Weaponed with deductive skills picked up from watching every Agatha Christie adaption (except for the 2017 Murder On The Orient Express movie as I'm still bracing myself for that AWFUL moustache), I further ventured into the exhibition space trying to find the motive behind the narrow sleeve. #activateMissMarpleMode

Jan Taminiau -for those unfamiliar with these particular syllables- is a famous Dutch fashion designer best known for dressing the queen, but he has also dressed the likes such as Lady Gaga and Rihanna. This exhibition is meant as an overview and insiders look into Taminiau's work. Especially the different kinds and patterns of embroidery he develops in his lab is highlighted. The pieces on display are mainly (narrow-sleeved) dresses and, if I'm being frank, you basically see everything you need to know about his repertoire in the first room and this vision only gets repeated in different spheres, fabrics and glass beads in the rooms that follow. This is however not to say that the other rooms are unnecessary.

Whodunit?!

Although generally a whodunit plot is driven by finding out the who and why, I'm afraid the who is rather obvious and the why is some made-up excuse like 'because of aesthetics' or 'because it's my signature style'. Basically not that interesting. So instead I focused on the how: as we're dealing with a serial sleeve killer, I wondered if my worst fear -flesh seeping out of bursting seams- could come true. Now I was going to rob a mannequin of her dress and test-drive it right there and then, but the guard kept giving me funny looks and I chickened out. So I had to solidly rely on my observational skills. Just picture me creeping through the exhibition with an imaginary magnifying glass inspecting every sleeve while Can't Touch This by MC Hammer plays in the background.

One by one I inspected every sleeve that came my way once, twice and sometimes even three times until I found the one that possibly contains the answer to all my questions. "A concealed zipper!", I enthusiastically yell to no one in particularly (though I was once again treated with funny eyes from the guard). Unfortunately these are the only narrow sleeves I spotted with a concealed zipper to safely confine and keep the flesh in place. However on my way home I came up with three theories that might support the intrinsicality of the other sleeves: concealed concealed zippers, ALIENS (or models who have significantly thinner arms than me) and the plausible possibility that the other sleeves are sewn close when tried on by a model. As these type of clothing aren't worn on a day-to-day basis (it basically gets lucky when it touches the skin of a human being once in its lifetime), it could be that the narrow sleeves are made on measure when modelled. Sew me up Scotty!



You can see the exhibition Jan Taminiau Reflections at the Centraal Museum Utrecht until 26 August 2018. If you do visit, please check the sleeves and report back on your findings. We will crack this mystery and catch the serial sleeve killer together!