Kinderjurk met korte mouw, gemaakt van een wit-roze gestreepte badstoffen handdoek, op het lijf afgezet met zwarte siernaden 1948

This child's dress, by Harmina Catharina Baruch-Ponstijn, appears to be made from a repurposed white and pink striped terrycloth towel, trimmed with black thread. It’s the kind of artmaking that starts with whatever is available, like a painter grabbing the nearest tube of paint. The material itself—that soft, absorbent towel—speaks of comfort and care. The pink stripes, faded and soft, suggest both tenderness and the wear of time. Then you notice the decorative black stitches on the bodice and sleeves. Look closely, they're so simple, so direct. It's the kind of gesture that transforms the mundane into something precious, a way of seeing potential in the everyday, of making something beautiful from what already exists. It reminds me of the resourcefulness of outsider art and folk art, where the constraints of materials and training often lead to incredibly inventive and personal expressions. This dress, with its simple stitches and repurposed fabric, carries that same spirit of ingenuity and heartfelt expression. It's not about perfection; it’s about making do, making new, making something meaningful.