Anyone else hurtin for a makeover? Every once in a while I feel thrown into an intermediate phase (even though every moment belongs to a phase that is impossibly intermediate) and flounder in the insincerity of the 'aesthetic' with which I am currently, accidentally, shamefully associated. Times like these illustrate the self-automating nature of the 'aesthetic' and its role on the internet; I don't need to actively perform it every individual instance I get online. It is already in motion, working in real time to constitute the overall photograph of my 'brand.' My eyes don't have to be processing 'instagram' as information for me to be on instagram. Someone else is looking at my profile when I'm not, and the still lives I upload dance for them without my enthusiastic participation but certainly with my permission. What makes me most insecure is that permission is not static -- it is dynamic and animate. I permit every second I allow images of me to remain, I permit every second I allow my profile to exist without intervention. I authorize the disingenuous aesthetic associated with my online identity by simply not putting a stop to it. So even though I'm not on instagram right now uploading a photo I don't like that much, the crisis is the same... people are still processing the information already present, judging me accordingly, coloring me in with the hues I provide because I don't put them away. I hate that I allow this to go on... more, I hate that I don't overwrite it with material I do enjoy instead.
This outfit reminds me of a Dior campaign... modish, feminine, bridal but young and rebellious. I fashioned the headwrap out of a pink sheath and flower pin then paired it with earrings from 2001 that actually look like they're from 1960s. Lately I've been pushing myself to explore more DIY approaches to accessorizing... picking out a floppy hat and sunglasses isn't creative enough anymore. Pairing a brooch with a sheet of fabric and tying it together with matching jewelry and lipstick feels so much more rewarding when the result is something as seamless and recognizable as this. The flower girl grows up and gets married... she's in a perfume advertisement, she's bohemian but sponsored...
Chicwish dress, Valentino bag, Dailylook heels
Everything is infinite,
Bebe
Hyperindustrial city livin' sure has made me a fan of garden motifs. Not because the Bellagio observatory renewed in me the sense of botanical wonder that slowly faded as I inched farther and farther from my New England homebase, but because in principle one always wants what they can't have. And I can't have plants. Okay, the occasional cactus and evening primrose on the rare chance that I'm driving through the desert. But besides that it's just artificially planted palm trees and potted shrub shit lining hotel walkways. So I compensate with flower-shaped Valentino purses, bejeweled Lanvin necklaces and vintage brooches in shades of jade and ruby. Paired with Ralph Lauren Rugby plaid, a floral halter and Armani blazer, I appear on the carefully pruned terrace a scholar of botany... vesting faith in the existence of chloroplasts and vascular stem tissues. Just philosophical axioms to me, a stranger to nature in this barren parking garage we call an entertainment capital.
Kidding -- put everything I said except "Valentino," "Lanvin," "Armani" and "Ralph Lauren" under erasure. GOTTA GO.
Lanvin necklace, Plein Sud halter top, Armani blazer, Ralph Lauren skirt and heels, Valentino bag
Sous rature,
Bebe Zeva
Driving through downtown LV with my mom (both photographer and chauffeur), there wasn't a specific location I had in mind to background this technicolor jester look. Until we spotted The Wall. A shade of blue that perfectly, eerily, downright paranormally matched the hues in my vinyl cap and floral bomber. The alley was deserted, just as I like it, so I was free to ham and cheese it up in my platform Timb knockoffs and chainlink hula hoop earrings. There's physically no way to 'keep it together' in an outfit like this. So if you expect me to play it cool the next we're seen in public together, remind me to specifically leave the checkered harem pants at home. Although it will be hard, as they have a mind and a mouth of their own.
Choies floral print snapback, Pink Brix rainbow chain hoops, Butterface Vintage "Whatever" choker, OASAP rose print bomber jacket, Romwe platform boots
Everything is infinite,
Bebe
Since bandana paisley and floral print are clearly my shit this season, today's outfit makes me feel like I did myself a generous service. Several other elements of this look that more or less define my personhood: impractical vinyl wedges paired with hyperpractical velvet joggers, clubmaster sunglasses (especially ones reflecting the downtown Vegas skyline), striped faux fur and a spectrum of reds from matte rouge on my lips to a maroon orange in the bricks behind me. Athletic glamour will never go out of style. Like, ever. I mean at least until its ineffable charm is subsumed by a Wal-Mart boardroom of coolhunters. We still got time, people.
This oversize tee, which functions just as well (if not better) as a dress, is accented by both a rose bouquet around the collar and a silver zipper that splits up the hem as it draws eyes down to the second half of the ensemble. Y'all gotta check out Ovidius Clothing and their other designs -- prints are the team's specialty. There's def a lot going on in this look but I better not need to explain why that isn't a bad thing... if you're on this blog, you're no stranger to maximalism. Living in a highly excited state of overstimulation since '93.
Ovidius Clothing "Rosa" XL tee, MeeMee Mono Stripe Faux Fur Coat, Sheinside joggers, Pink Brix Coco Ring and Brandi Choker
Everything is infinite,
Bebe
