As for my current state of mind, it’s wandering. My sense of fashion isn’t really existent at the moment and to be frank, fashion doesn’t bother me much these days (which might be due to the fact that i’m absolutely , terrifyingly broke).
These days I mostly spent my time trying to make believe.
Trying to make believe in terms of cultural heritage, human relations, my emotions and feelings, my actual life. I spare you all the endless and ongoing monologue of me rambling about the lost cause of love in modern age (which I simply refuse to believe is a lost cause).
Instead I’ll indulge in the pleasure of filling this utterly ‘unexciting, superficial, unimportant’ fashion blog with great excitement. Its phoniness and utter uselessness is what made me start one in the first place. Isn’t it nice to have a place where nobody actually even tries to make a point, just ramble, just let all the pretty stimuli drizzle into your brain…?! Fashion can be so much more than that obviously but as I already told you, it’s not for me currently.
So let’s start this picture show you guys came to scroll down on in the first place. Here I’ll basically just post all the input I’ve been saving on my desktop lately. Clothing ideas I am into whenever I feel like dressing up once in a while.
#1 The effortless french person from the 70s and beyond
#2 Touch me I’m sick
#4 o v e r
#5 i don’t know how to call this anymore so I’ll just type these words so it doesn’t look like i am an idiot
Last week i had a particularly strange and ultimately dramatic encounter between Brigitte Bardot, Francoise Hardy or Catherine Denevue and myself.
I cried lying in someone else’s bed. Then I cried in this persons bathtub. It wouldn’t stop. It just happened. It just occurred out of nowhere. This “I’m sad and bored”, this existential lust for love, this ungraspable feeling of lack and longing for more, more, more known from old french films.
This moment reminded me of the bathtub scene in “Le Mémpris” with Brigitte Bardot. Her whole attitude, her sudden change of mind, her sudden dissatisfaction to real world love and limited access to her “homme ideal”…
Of course it’s been a rediculous attitude of mine and i am totally aware of its cinematic, inauthentic nature, but it just hit heart that night and I’m sure most of us get lost in this hopeless process of hiding away in ideals and illusions from time to time. So this Lookbook is intended to be an homage to those french lovesick girls or just a recollection of my current day to day garment choice.
…with a feeling of wanting more , more, more in the air …
s k i r t: zara
b l o u s e: flea marcet
s c h o e s: Pleaser
s k i r t: Zara
s h i r t: idk stolen from my grandma
c h o k e r: gift ribbon
s h o e s: Pleaser
b a g: flea marcet Buffalo
s h i r t: zara
s k i r t: American Apparel
s h o e s: Asos
t o p: vintage out of my mom’s closet
s k i r t: vintage and authentically bought in paris last year
same shoes and choker
P a n t s: Vintage Riani from my grandma
T u r t l e n e c k: Flea marcet (zara)
S h o e s: H&M
B a g: Flea marcet (Picard)
B l a z e r: Vintage from my grandma
G l a s s e s: Asos
B a r r e t: Flea marcet
I’ve recently fell into a deep hole of spending each and every night in my *not sexy* pajamas, eating ice-cream, watching Grey’s Anatomy, periodically crying for one of those too-nice-and-unreal-to-actually-exist-men on the show (George anyone?!) or hating on the actual main character. I am not pleading on watching this show, although it’s great in a low-key sad way. I’m just saying it’s more than what meets the eye, although organs brains and scalpels really do hit your eye quite often.
It seems as though each and every character is somehow struggling with their own version of feelings rejected by someone très special to them. Each of them is trying their own way of growing out of these old habits of dreaming about someone they may never bound to be with, yet dream about at the very last. One is cutting his hair in a ridiculous way, the other decides to fully ignore the other, dellusionally denying they are only fooling themselves, and then there is Meredith who started knitting a sweater in order to keep her thoughts on men she can’t have from cursing her mind.
My very own method in addition to Meredith’s very clever approach would be: Look ridiculous…aka …fabulous!
Knitting is a good start actually, but I’ve discovered that the most comforting and confident way to get away from being objectified and looked at as a female in a pretty mini skirt is a) of course owning it and b) just doing the exact opposite from what’s being considered female by taking away shape.
This is not meant to sound like women need to hide their bodies in order to feel safe at all. It’s just, sometimes one doesn’t want to look like that pretty girl guys are looking at just cause she has a nice bum or any type of female attribute for the most part. So this look attempts to be a tiny revolt against the ideal female look but still includes feminine features. Each item could be dressed up individual, but as a whole they create this no-i-actually-didn’t-give-a-fuck-about-how-to-look-ominously-pretty-today.
This is how I feel comfortable lately and just like i can be myself.I’m sure there are multiple ways of feeling just that, so here is my approach on the untouchable femme.
P a n t s : Zara
S h i r t: made it myself
J a c k e t: Vintage + DIY
S h o e s: Asos
G l a s s e s: H&M