"Tropic blues" is a geographically inaccurate but nonetheless beautiful description of the kind of syndrome that comes with living in Las Vegas. To distract you from the desolate landscape are resplendent signs in more shades of neon than Pantone could catalog in a century... and the hotel interiors are decorated in as much maximalist glitz as their counterpart curb appeal advertises. There is little aesthetic or sensory distinction between standing outside on the boulevard or inside the casinos' marble annals. Either way, you're awestruck by the obvious wealth that went into building this place. It's so impressive that it actually inspires you to rescind your cynicism and vest trust in whatever well-insured system is responsible for the whole damn fortress. Whatever it is, it's working! Right?
But then you realize that the infallible size and grandeur of this paradise can only exist given the premise that its visitors always put more money into it than they aspire to take away in jackpot winnings and lucky bets. This city is financially unsustainable without the constant influx of cash from travelers seeking respite. American boredom is exploited by the Vegas big wigs who can offer you a temporary escape in exchange for most of your savings. This city is a business -- no paid representative here will ever encourage you to explore the free activities offered. (Because that doesn't benefit the casinos and also free activities don't exist here.)
There's nothing inherently wrong with vacation. But what's inherently wrong with Vegas vacation is its deceptive agenda. Vegas wants you to believe that this is your chance to finally win big and go home rich. It wows you with size, space, lights, glitter, artificial beauty. It seduces you into trusting that it actually cares about your experience, when the city only 'cares' (requires) that you spend. It's simple psychology: illusion of reciprocity.
You think Vegas is giving you something amazing - opportunities! Sights! Entertainment! The possibility of millions. So you feel inclined to spend more money there to reciprocate the hospitality. But you don't owe Vegas anything. It's impressing you not so that you'll feel more relaxed- it's impressing you so that you'll trust it more. This process of securing your trust exists to compensate for how much corruption and greed it has to hide. How clever. The best hiding place is in clear sight, swathed in a feather boa and rhinestones to the gills.
The power Vegas has over its residents and travelers is physically manifested in gorgeous billion dollar real estate. All of us are individually too small to take it down. That kind of helpless surrender to the mathematical fact that is "The House Always Wins" just might be the foremost symptom of Tropic Blues.
Holes eyewear, Lashes of London bomber jacket, Blackmilk Hex color code dress, O-Mighty skirt, secondhand heels
Everything is infinite^3,
Bebe
So, any of you who are at all familiar with celebrity culture will know exactly who I'm talking about when I say that my inspiration for this look was Courtney Stodden. Yes, the buxom blonde who married into fame young and has been the source of much ridicule and resentment from the internet ever since. Why? Because Courtney is a feminist. Yup. You can be a feminist and look like what some second-wave fem scholars consider an idealization of socially constructed symbols fashioned by patriarchy (you know, the white men in charge). I earnestly believe that Courtney is an ambassador of the contemporary feminist movement. She chooses to represent herself in such a way that is so unapologetically feminine it is threatening to men. Courtney is our generation's master of subverting the Patriarchal movement to make women sexual objects by reveling in how beautiful and sexual she feels as a person. And is she entitled to do that? She is entitled to do anything. She is a woman.
No woman, born with or without a vagina, is obligated to reject non-essential symbols of femininity to prove that she recognizes Patriarchy's problematic architecture. People of privilege, specifically cis white men, are however ethically obligated not to contribute to sexism. Since women do not systematically perform sexism on themselves, the contributions they might make are neutral unless a male exploits them to his advantage. So, ladies, don't let anyone ever tell you that you can't wear heels and lipstick without compromising your feminism. You are entitled to appeal to the male gaze, you are entitled to arouse men by dressing and behaving in such a way that attracts them, and you are entitled to opt out of "empowering yourself." You are entitled to do you. As women, we are not responsible for undermining the system that oppresses us. Men are.
TIME TO TALK CLOTHES... this is where the "cyber" twist comes in. My holographic jeans are c/o Kill City and too undescribably rad to wear with anything other than matching silver. So I paired them with a futuristic top from Romwe with *metallic panels* and *transparent tinted sleeves*. Yeeeah. Pretty much hit the bullseye on what I wanted in a top to complement these jeans and actually no just everything I wanted in a top in general.
Same goes for the shoes. Stripper heels. Lucite pumps. Whatever. It's the Stoddenista in me.
FROM TOP TO BOTTOM:
"Kaleidescope Prism Glasses" - Holes Eyewear
Necklace - Romwe jewelry
Top - Romwe tops
"Junkie Pyramid Holographic Foil Jeans" - c/o Kill City
Heels - Secondhand
P.S. LOS ANGELES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Since I uh kind of LIVE HERE NOW... I'll be selling 75% of my current wardrobe at an ALL GIRLS YARD SALE and HOLIDAY PARTY this Saturday with my besties!!!!!!
Check out all the deets below and RSVP to our event on Facebook! I'll be posting photos of the clothes I'm selling on Instagram with the hashtag #caffeinatedcutie so stay tuned. <3
Everything is infinite,
Bebe Zeva
