Every other day, walking out the door of out little flat in Cluj, my sister and I take some pictures of our outfits. It's a kind of street-style, monitoring our own shifting preferences. Clothes are not just an expression of vanity, but they are a means of social interaction. As Juvenal once said: "Seldom do people discern Eloquence under a threadbare cloak."
miercuri, 24 noiembrie 2010
marți, 16 noiembrie 2010
joi, 11 noiembrie 2010
luni, 1 noiembrie 2010
This is halloween
Jeffrey Eugenides' book "The virgin suicides" was an old favorite of mine, thought I kind of ignored Sophia Coppolla's movie. This is supposed to be Cecile Lisbon, the girl who killed herself as a response to a highly religious education. Wearing an old wedding dress and clutching a picture of the virgin Mary, she refused to marry and conform to society's hypocritical demands on women.
I'm wearing a cotton slip paired with chunky boots to really get that grungy dead-virgin wibe. The red lipstick is kind of a play on vampirism, and the old demonic images of dead, unmarried women.
Iri went with a Great Gatsby-type flapper costume, more or less channeling the Black Dahlia, a 1920s actress whose schtick was always wearing all-black.
Black Dahlia was killed -more like butchered- in a fashion pointing towards a crime of passion, and her body left on display in a park by a killer never apprehended.
vineri, 29 octombrie 2010
In search of the purrfect halloween partay
Military coats, understated or not, really bring out my inner high-brow bitch. It was cold enough that day to warrant a green cashmere sweater, and just the edges of its sleeves poking out served as accessories.
Brightly colored coats break the gloomy fall mood. Paired up with unusually unmatchy bags and scarves, they draw the eye.
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