I’m all about the hyperfeminine and the deliberately constructed. Lately I have little interest in outfits that appear haphazard or, shall we say, adventurously designed. I want strict and obvious artifice. “Appeal to nature” is a fallacy anyway. There seems to be this notion, not so much among fashionistas but among political and academic types, that socially constructed = bad. Everything that’s not 100% biological is a social construct in some way – and even wholly biological phenomena have to be articulated with language, another social construct.
“Fashion is an artifice,” critics tell me. Fake. Materialistic. “So what?” I invariably rejoin. The world is materialistic. One of my favorite things about fashion is its honesty about its materialism. High fashion refuses to pretend it’s not desperately trying to get itself noticed. There’s no self-effacing eye-batting, no murmurs of “oh, this old thing?” Fashion is upfront about being unnatural. Page through a photo spread, and you are entering a deliberately stylized world of pure imagination. The way something in the mind of an artist can create something that challenges or even overshadows the natural world – that’s magical.
There’s a fine line between art and insanity. I say this as someone with a mental illness. At the core of both is the concept of communicating something entirely new, something inherently unverifiable by empirical means.
I’m no longer content to combine various interesting pieces and hope the sum will do justice to the parts. I have to have a Theme. I have to be Constructed.So here you have it: my overbright, hyperfeminine homage to the unnatural.
Dress & Necklace: Old Gold Jacket: Macy’s Belt: Handed down from Mom Tights: Sox Market Shoes: Danform Tank Top: JCPenney