I spent a good portion of my childhood by myself, quietly flipping through fashion and interior design magazines. Born in the late ‘70s, being both working class and latently queer, I was in an ideal position to be intoxicated by the images of opulence on display in issues of House & Garden, Architectural Digest, and Cosmopolitan. I was not yet savvy enough to decode the notions of “good taste” espoused in these publications as inexorably linked to wealth and class, though I sensed that actually inhabiting these supposedly tasteful interiors would be stifling and restrictive. These impeccable rooms were designed to be photographed more than lived in, similar to how the garish power suits for upwardly mobile women of the era looked as uncomfortable as they did glamorous. I was just a messy kid who could never occupy these pristine, highly-mannered spaces, but my conflicted fascination with ‘80s images of wealthy white luxury remained. The push/pull attraction/alienation to images of lifestyles beyond my reach informs a lot of the work we make as Phomohobes and how we approach (and subvert) the extravagance of our sources.
Growing up in the ‘90s, Colby has a much different relationship to the shameless excess found in the magazines we pull images from. He has a less complicated access point into this world of a past he didn’t experience first-hand. This variation in proximity is integral to our methodology of image-making. We are drawn to our source material out of a mutual fascination, appreciation, and morbid curiosity. For both of us, the collages provide a space to simultaneously celebrate and satirize mainstream notions of taste and sophistication. We get to poke fun at the aesthetics of the past but also to pay tribute (albeit in a subversive, gaudy, and often humorous way). The collages present an ambiguous and imaginative afterlife for advertising imagery, one that is not completely detached from its glossy origin, but in conversation with it. There is, interestingly, an extent to which our collages can be easily enjoyed on a purely aesthetic level, devoid of criticality, much like the “décor art” that populated the home interiors photographed for Architectural Digest. However, I don’t think either of us would be satisfied with this surface-level reading of our work alone. For us, each collage needs to hint at some kind of narrative, however cryptic and perverse it might appear.
Above: Phomohobes, Tempting Offer, 2024. Collage. Image courtesy of the artists.
Phomohobes are a duo comprised of Colby Richardson (Toronto) and Jason Cawood (Regina.) Formed in 2012, they primarily create hand-made collages from pre-1990’s pop-culture and lifestyle magazines. These collages take shape as garish, ornate and perverse juxtapositions of mid-20th century interiors, fashion, consumer products, decontextualized body parts, and hypermasculinity.
This article is published in issue 41.3 of BlackFlash magazine. Get this issue
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