Fashion designers, artists and other artisans take art off the wall and onto the human form in an exhibit making its North American debut.

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Clothes can be strictly utilitarian, or they can be playfully high-fashion, or … well, that’s where the taxidermy bra comes in.

“World of WearableArt,” selections from which are on display at EMP Museum through Jan. 2, is an annual contest and awards show based in Wellington, New Zealand, now in its 28th year. The contest invites fashion designers, artists and other artisans to take art off the wall and onto the human form. Anything goes, says WoW founder Dame Suzie Moncrieff, in a quote on the wall at EMP: “The garments don’t have to be commercially viable. They don’t have to take themselves seriously. They just have to be wearable.”

Hence, Lynn Christiansen’s “Gothic Habit,” a sort of jumper-dress (it’s held on the body by straps) that’s an elaborate Gothic cathedral, created from 2,300 pieces of laser-etched and cut felt; it’s like a beautifully intricate architectural model that just happens to have a person in the middle of it. Or David Walker’s “Lady of the Wood,” a delicate-looking gown in the style of the 17th century — if that century was in the habit of crafting dresses entirely from wood. Or Jan Kerr’s “Hermecea,” which looks like the result of a beautiful love story between a dapper lobster and an arty hula dancer.

Visual art review

‘World of WearableArt’

EMP Museum, 325 Fifth Ave. N., Seattle, $22-$30; open daily 10 a.m.-7 p.m. through Labor Day; 10 a.m.-5 p.m. after Labor Day. Exhibit on display through Jan. 2 (empmuseum.org or 206-770-2700).

The show, making its North American premiere, has 32 garments in all; among them are winners from the past 12 annual contests. With the exception of a disgruntled preteen boy overheard asking his brother “Why did you think this had to do with World of Warcraft?” (look at those WoW posters carefully, kids), visitors to EMP on a recent afternoon seemed rapt by the spectacle.

Displayed under spotlights in an otherwise dark section of the museum’s second floor, the garments seemed like free-floating, dreamlike creatures from a very odd fairy tale. In one corner, video highlights from the contest’s fanciful annual fashion show/performance (think Cirque du Soleil with a catwalk) played in a loop; in it, you could see many of the garments from the exhibit in seemingly impossible motion.

Some of the works on display seem not too far removed from something a person might actually wear: Rebecca Maxwell’s canary-yellow “Noor Reverie,” inspired by the accordion folds of Moroccan lanterns, is a slightly puffier take on a familiar minidress silhouette, and I can imagine somebody wearing Lai Kit Ling’s striking optic wedding-cake “In the Op” to a contemporary and very posh version of Truman Capote’s Black and White Ball. Others fall squarely on the “art” side of wearable: Jeff Thomson and Fenella Fenton’s “Mantilla,” in which the mannequin seems wrapped in miles of multicolored, intricate lace; Sarah Tomas’ playful “American Dream” merges its wearer with a shiny red roadster.

Oh, and that bra? It’s part of the “Bizarre Bras” subcategory of the contest, with examples on display made from kitchen utensils, roadkill hedgehogs (yes, really) and one artist’s beloved, deceased pet budgerigars — which are now, she notes, “close to my bosom.” (“That may be slightly impractical,” noted a passer-by.)

Over-the-top, to be sure, but that’s part of this exhibit’s charm. You leave dazzled by the seemingly limitless imagination on display, nodding in agreement with a Dalí quote on the wall: “The one thing the world will never have enough of is the outrageous.”