bahama mama

Another day, another delicious tropical gradient color combo. I remember when I found this Hibiscus print blazer at a Goodwill in North Hollywood. I was at the peak of my "polynesian fetishism" phase and could imagine a hundred million ways to wear this jacket, which I was especially committed to debuting at a club. Since "shaka" (recontextualized and whitewashed to suit my 2012 Hawaiian tourist fancy) is no longer a word in my vocabulary, the jacket is likewise no longer a symbol of my trendiness (or entitlement). In my mind it's returned to its culturally-neutral state of impartial structure... but surely ten seasons from now it will represent something totally different. For now, let's just innocently enjoy the aesthetic pleasure of turquoise, orange, and yellow.



Secondhand cap, Holes eyewear, vintage jacket, Motel Rocks crop top, Romwe bubble leggings

Everything is infinite,

Bebezzzz

cosmos

Soooooo who else is watching Cosmos with NDGT on the science channel this season? My natural elitist inclination is to inform you that I've been a fan of both Neil and the 1970s original series since before the internet made it "a thing." I remember wearing my favorite Carl Sagan t-shirt on the first day of 10th grade -- under one of his most famous portraits (crossing his arms in a maroon turtleneck and standing in front of a turquoise galaxy) were the words "LEGENDS NEVER DIE" in big block letters. I wonder if Carl would have been disappointed in me for accessorizing his face to make friends. Anyway, my only criticism of the new series is that its presentation of what should be challenging material seems pretty "lowest common denominator." What can't be fairly described to a scientifically illiterate audience shouldn't really be 'described' at all... it should instead be presented as poetry since an aesthetic understanding is all the audience will ultimately derive. I think Carl was great at this, allowing the phenomena of science to be humbly aesthetic when purveyed by a "civilian". The new series seems a little more pretentious, but I think that has more to do with the special effects than with Neil. I used to watch his astronomy lectures on DVD as a teen and am obsessed with his sense of humor... I wish more of his unrehearsed personality showed through. Hopefully as the season progresses, the presentation of heady concepts will become more humorous and lighthearted.

Oh yeah, I SOBBED at the end of the debut episode when NDGT recounted meeting Carl for the first time as a seventeen year old. Stories about passing the torch down always get me.



Zero UV sunglasses, Romwe galaxy jacket and leggings, Missguided bra top and heels

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

rainbow rave

I'm gonna be real with you. I hate raves so much that I almost can't even talk about them. My palms start sweating, my heart starts racing, I feel like I have to take a phantom shit and suddenly where the fuck is my valium. It's not that I "still haven't had the right experience" because trust me - I've done plenty of raving in my recent youth. It's that I associate raves (or musical festivals, parties that last until well after 2 AM, and DJ sets) with MDMA comedowns. Recommendation to anyone reading this who hasn't ever tried molly/ecstasy/press pills: CONTINUE TO AVOID THESE DRUGS AT ALL COSTS. One exposure can sabotage your regulation of serotonin forever and you'll have to take an SSRI/SNRI (anti-depressant pill) to return to a stable mood. :(

Nonetheless I've put together many a technicolor outfit for the more casual raver: shorts instead of a tutu, sports bra instead of a lingerie top, backwards cap instead of a flower crown. Which isn't to discredit the greatness of tutus, lingerie, and flowers... I've just never been one to 'get down' in tulle and lace. This is totally not me trying to shit all over things girls do in an internalized-misogyny kinda way. Anyway, back to me lecturing you about the dangers of hedonism. Rainbow brights will definitely put you in the party mood but (in the interest of preserving your own sanity) complement that pleasure-seeking with deference to the fact that post-traumatic disorders are possible and after repeated drug indulgences you seriously might not ever be the same again. No pressure.



24 Hours vinyl snapback, Daily Look digital print bomber jacket, Romwe rainbow gradient shorts

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

afterlifer

I suspect that me wearing this mesh gradient top (c/o Tunnel Vision -- who else is as skilled at curating vintage but Madeline and her team?) borderlines cultural appropriation... but then a part of me cringes at the insinuation that a fractal pattern is uniquely a sacred social signifier and not a shared mathematical property that white people, save for ironic paisley bandannas, have yet to insult with their vulgar tendency to conflate with unrelated tropes in cop-out postmodern theatrics.

*camera pans to reveal the lower half of my outfit* Considering my historically accurate entitlement to pair the shirt's almost objectively religious print with the irreverence of paint-splattered sweatpants (in this context playing the starring role of 1980s art-is-dead revival bravado), I am everything that I hate and criticize in this world.

But! But! But no -- no buts. No rationalizing. I am an accurate portrait of fashion's reckless spiral into disrespect for Aura. Let's face it, the tremendous obligation to honor something special interferes with corporate culture's trajectory towards cashing in on Everything Ever. 

Surely someone will appreciate me... the pretentious dixie cup genie of blogspot.



Holes eyewear, Tunnel Vision vintage mesh gradient fractal top, Yes Style splatter paint harem pants, Missguided heels 

Everything is blah blah whatever,

Bebe

transparency

In honor of this pastel rainbow harness dress's semi-transparent fabric I'll do a little demystifying myself about an annoying trend I've noticed among my peers. It's become a fad obsession, perhaps as a pendulum reaction to accusations of millennial narcissism but serving as no counterexample of it, to claim that it is one's life goal and central focus to "achieve modesty." 

It's already possessive and material to think of 'modesty' as a 'thing' that can be 'achieved.' But what's more irritating about lusting after it is the inherently self-aggrandizing assumption that one is capable of performing morality with such consistency that the title would feel earned. It's that intent to earn or deserve modesty that entails the autoperforation of it . Humility is culturally and spiritually revered, but consideration of it as the most ultimate virtue means nothing when in practice we pay more attention to the egos that perform it than to the characteristics of it themselves. To publicly aspire to possess the most respected virtue seems beyond a moderate estimation of one's abilities. It necessitates the existence of an intended quest for a righteous reputation, thus fundamentally inverting the conditions essential to modesty. To consider reputation is to prioritize (or even so little as acknowledge) an egotistical "image." Efforts to maximize the positive reactions associated with said image also fundamentally block essential conditions. Basically, if one intends to be modest, one cannot be modest, because a modest person cannot even be cognizant of the relevance of the description in relation to themselves. Modest behavior includes selfless efforts to develop trusting relationships for the benefit of others, without regard for the fate of the intending individual.

The actual development of trust should matter more to us than the advantages that come with being well-known as a trustworthy, modest person. I think that as soon as we externalize our 'selves' and attempt to assign to them a preferable judgment from the assumed perspective of 'others' (as if they are not intrinsic parts of our selves), we undo the possibility of modesty and render it an absolutely impossible paradox. It can only be achieved when it is genuinely not desired because reputation is not selfishly considered. 

Ironic that all of this coming from the mouth (fingers) of someone who will proceed to post 8 photos of their privileged body after this text, but hey. The author is dead so leave me out of this. ^_^




ZeroUV sunglasses, UNIF harness dress, vintage heels

Everything is infinite,

Bebe Zeva

cyan fever

It sucks to not genuinely believe in things anymore. Not only is life less fun when you don't feel compelled by some unforeseeable narrative to carry on, but people start to trust you less because your once dependable faith in that narrative is waning. Your friends wonder if you're an authentic person. Your lack of commitment to the dream is socially unattractive, confusing, unrelatable. What else might I be doing out of guilt, not sincere interest? People don't believe me now that they know I don't believe in things. 

I've quickly gone from an ENFP to an INFP. It feels like nothing inspiring can come out of physically exhausting social interactions. So I isolate myself in either my bedroom or bathroom, settling for the company of my mirror reflection instead. Finally I understand what a buzzkill I am. But I'd rather change my outfit than my opinion. ;)

Maybe a good example of my literally immeasurable, but detectable, bitterness is this cyan/turquoise/teal outfit I wore several weeks ago. In December 2012, I would have genuinely loved what it represented; allegiance to a group of people who also deliberately wore these colors and prints. But now that I don't seek alliances with subcultures and people, I don't care what reaction someone has to this outfit. It no longer serves a 'signified purpose.' It's just a black and cyan outfit that hearkens to the tropical nostalgia of faith in the future.

I do sincerely hope that someone is inspired anyway.



Supershop 24 Hrs holographic snapback, Romwe checkered bodysuit, Romwe palm tree leggings, H&M shirt, Boohoo rhinestone heels

Everything is infinite,

Bebe Zeva

leatherette cubed

Living out of a suitcase for four months in LA taught me a lesson about how to efficiently combine pieces of my finite clothing supply so I'd appear less resource-deprived and (hopefully) more creative. We know this frantic desperation to mix and match is rooted in fear of seeming 'poor' - and what else, we know that the premise of the current Fashion Game is contaminated with prejudice towards the 'uncreative' working class, from whom the fashion set is perennially devoted to differentiating themselves. 

We've developed ways to reconcile our poverty with attention to personal style: recycling, recontextualizing, etc. The tragedy is that differentiating oneself from the stigma associated with a lack of access only reinforces the original stigma by proposing that poverty is embarrassing and worth moving away from. The inverse of this, normcore celebration of 'poor aesthetics,' is even more boorish in that it superficially camouflages the privileged among the genuinely deprived, thus absolving the former group from having to acknowledge their systematic advantages. It also sedates the movement toward eliminating poverty by re-presenting it as a "chic lifestyle choice."

Basically, there is no way to morally defend an involvement in fashion. But that refers back to my disclaimer post, De Profund-ish. 

I went with option A, flexing my creative muscles to make some unnecessary statement about how ~innovative~ I am as an individual, and how there's ~no excuse~ for not having a diverse sense of style, even during times of hardship. Propaganda 101... who knew it looked so innocent?

Same pair of Missguided heels in every outfit, and a leatherette motif theme throughout. Consistently incorporating a material, color, or pattern in your looks for the week lends plenty of credence to the insinuation that every outfit was deliberately selected in line with your preferences -- even if it all came together by chance.

water sign



Zero UV clubmaster sunglasses, Missguided leather crop top, Ping Ping & Rabbit bubble print leggings, H&M denim shirt

en fait



Retro City sunglasses, Romwe collar and Givenchy-inspired shirt dress, J Brand leather cuff jeans, Romwe rhinestone necklace
matinee



Retro City sunglasses, OASAP cuff necklace, T by Alexander Wang top, Romwe leatherette overalls dress

Everything is infinite,

Bebe Zeva