Aimy, Ange and art
On the other side of the Waitaki River, at Danseys Pass, Aimy Chin has been busy creating stunning artworks. But behind the increasingly bright colours is a much deeper story.
I met Aimy Chin at high school, where we spent a lot of time in the art room.
It was in an old wooden building raised high enough to crawl underneath for cigarette breaks. I’m not sure how we got away with it, but we did.
Even then it was obvious that her creative abilities would take her places.
Aimy also came as a pair. Where there was Aimy Chin, there was Ange Cleland - her best mate since primary school.
I caught up with Aimy to talk about her recent art and the extraordinary creative career that took her from Ōamaru to working with one of Australia’s leading fashion designers in Sydney.
But it is impossible to tell Aimy’s story without Ange.
So, this is a story about creativity, friendship and grief - and how painting is helping Aimy find her way forward after losing her “go-to person and best friend”.
Student talent noticed in Sydney
Aimy grew up in the Waitaki district, went to school in Ōamaru and then studied fashion design at Otago.
While there, she was selected with two other students to travel to Sydney for placements with established designers.
Aimy spent a week with Collette Dinnigan and another with Akira Isogawa.
She and Akira immediately connected, and he offered her a trial position once she finished studying.
“He had an affinity with people who came from small places and worked hard,” she says.
Early recognition
She also entered several fashion awards while in Dunedin.
She placed in the DuPont Lycra Student Design Award and was a finalist for the Young Designers Innovator Award at the Benson & Hedges Fashion Design Awards.
Her success led to an interview for television.
“That was when I realised how bad I was at being interviewed,” she laughs.
“When it came on television, I screamed so that my flatmates couldn’t hear how terrible I was.”
An Asian-fusion outfit in silk organza from her graduate collection caught the attention of Akira, who was judging one of the competitions.
Akira again told Aimy there was a job waiting for her in Sydney when she graduated.
Sydney calling
With her studies complete, Aimy moved to Sydney to take up the trial with Akira.
She worked an unpaid trial for the first week and was then hired as Akira’s design assistant. She stayed for seven years, eventually becoming the brand’s textile developer.
Travelling between Sydney and Bali, she oversaw intricate beading, printing, embroidery and dyeing.
“I would run the production side of that, and I loved it,” she says.
“It was the best job ever. I learnt everything there when it came to design and composition.
“Art is like that too. It’s about balance. It has to look and feel right.”
From Ōamaru to the pages of Harper’s Bazaar: Aimy (left) with the Akira team. Akira Isogawa is third from right.
Going into business
The fashion world was exciting, but it was demanding. A normal day could begin at 9am and finish at 9pm, with the team sometimes working through the night before shows.
After her first child, Mani, was born, Aimy worked part-time and developed her own label, Yen Yen, as a side business.
She made clothing using silks and beautiful Asian prints and sold her work at markets. She was painting too, experimenting with oils, portraiture, abstracts and collage. She entered the Archibald Prize twice with portraits of actors.
After completing a small-business certificate, she opened Cardigan Corner in Sydney’s Newtown. It specialised in high-end vintage clothing from labels including Gucci, Versace and Burberry.
Shipping containers of clothing arrived from France and the United States, with the stock bought by weight. Aimy largely ran the shop by herself while continuing to sell at weekend markets.
“I was the busiest I’ve ever been.”
When Covid arrived, she ended up leaving the commercial lease and began selling online. With a post office at the end of her street, the business became busier than ever.
But after many years in Australia, Aimy felt it was time to return to New Zealand and be closer to family.
She moved home almost six years ago. Then came the loss that changed everything.
Aimy and Ange
Aimy and Ange met when they started primary school and became best friends immediately.
“We both loved to laugh, had a naughty, cheeky streak and liked to push the limits with authority.”
Ange’s father was the school’s deputy principal.
The girls regularly found themselves sitting in his office. At assembly, he had to read out the names of students who had detention.
“It was always funny hearing him read out his daughter’s name and her best friend’s.”
By the age of 10, they were already planning their escape from small-town life.
“We had plans to leave home at 16 and get a flat together,” Aimy says.
“We couldn’t wait to be older.”
After high school, Ange went to Christchurch to study nannying, while Aimy studied fashion in Dunedin.
“It was the best thing. I could have my Christchurch times with her, and she could have her Otago times with me.”
Getting ready to go to different high schools in Ōamaru and still together years later in Sydney.
Finally flatting together
They both ended up in Sydney, where their childhood plan to become flatmates finally came true.
They later established homes and families of their own, but remained in Sydney together for 14 years. They raised their children alongside each other and were present for the births of each other’s first babies.
After 14 years, Ange and her family moved to the Sunshine Coast. Aimy travelled north for holidays, while Ange returned to Sydney for city escapes.
“We were always so excited to see each other. We’d party like little kids.”
I can’t do lightning
On the Sunshine Coast, Ange was diagnosed with breast cancer. She went into remission following treatment, which included taking part in a drug trial.
Even in remission, Aimy says Ange felt as though the illness was hanging over her, but she fought hard not to let that fear take over her life.
Three years later, when Aimy was back in New Zealand, Ange rang with “the worst news ever” - the cancer had returned.
Ange passed away only two and a half months later.
“That period was so very depressing. I just wanted to be there with her,” Aimy says.
Aimy was there on the day Ange died. She held her hand and told her she loved her.
Even near the end, there were flashes of the funny, cheeky Ange she had known since childhood.
Before she died, those closest to Ange asked her to send them a sign.
Her husband, Ian, suggested lightning.
“She said, ‘I can’t do lightning - too hard!’”
The night Ange passed away, the sky over the Sunshine Coast erupted.
“It was the biggest lightning storm you’ve ever seen. People were outside taking photos of it. It was so full-on.”
Danseys Pass
When Aimy returned home after Ange’s death, she fell apart.
She knew Danseys Pass was where she needed to be. She moved into a home she had bought from her mum, where she had also spent time with Ange.
In the isolation of Danseys Pass, painting put the brakes on the thoughts and emotions that otherwise felt overwhelming.
Aimy doesn’t call herself an artist.
“I would say I’m a creative person who finds joy in painting. There’s something in me that enjoys art so much that, for this time in my life, I feel compelled to do it.”
The work began to change as Aimy did.
“The colours became brighter,” she says.
“The florals felt like I was finding myself again.”
Her strongest paintings often aren’t carefully planned. They begin with a thought or feeling and can pull her in for an entire day. Sometimes she becomes so absorbed that she forgets to eat.
“The best ones I do are so full of feeling.”
“It’s not my living. I don’t have a website. I paint to express myself, to heal and to get a feeling out. I don’t give a fuck if anybody likes my work - but it’s a bonus if they do!” she says, laughing.
Honouring Ange
Aimy doesn’t believe grief is something you ever fully recover from. She lost her father when she was only five.
“The weight of the grief equals the love you have for that person,” she says.
“I’m always going to have the grief of not having Ange here.”
There are still days when it hits without warning and Aimy is “a wreck”. On those days, even art can’t help.
But losing Ange also left her with a "profound and powerful" determination to live.
“It made me step back, assess everything and change a lot of myself as a person.”
“The heaviness of not having my best friend was one thing, but it also made me really want to live, which was the total opposite of that heavy grief. Time has helped shift the weight of it.”
“I had this epiphany that, to honour her, I was going to do everything I could to live the best life possible. Ange would never have wanted me to be sad.”
An amazing friend
Aimy describes Ange as someone who would talk to anybody and had enormous empathy.
“She was the most caring person you could ever meet. She was there for anyone who hit rock bottom and gave so much of herself to everyone else.”
“I feel so blessed and lucky to have had such an amazing friend in my life.”
Aimy still talks to her.
“She’s with me all the time.”
Next steps
After several years of remote living, Aimy feels herself entering another stage.
She has learned the importance of creativity, but also of surrounding herself with good people, establishing boundaries and accepting that nobody has life completely worked out.
“And if you think you do, you’re a twat,” she laughs.
“We’re all flawed.”
She has loved the isolation of Danseys Pass and the space it gave her to grieve, paint and discover who she is now. But she can feel another change brewing.
“I think I’m coming into my own,” she says.
“I love this age and this era, and I love not knowing what my next step is. I’ve loved living remotely, but I’m getting ready to spread my wings.”
Two of Aimy’s adult children, Mani and Olive, are back in Australia, while her youngest, Khinui, is in his final year of high school in Ōamaru.
Aimy may not know exactly what comes next, but art, Ange and Ange’s family will remain a big part of her life.