Last Updated on January 30, 2013
"When I grow up, I'm going to dress like this."
What I love most about fashion is that it can make me dream. Although the word "dreaming" tends to evoke cliché and romantic imagery of heads in the clouds, in reality it is a process that I cannot describe more "tangibly" because it'll only make sense to you if you experience it personally (and if that is so, there's little need for me to explain anything anyway). Perhaps "dreaming" is - at least in my case - just a sobriquet for many visions of what I am, what I was, what I could have been and, most importantly, what I will be, inspired by a certain garment, a whole outfit or a photograph.
It works this way: garments - regardless of whether they're within my reach in any sense of the word or not - transport me into another world where I'm still me, but I'm also something I'm usually not. This second characteristic is, of course, something I in fact want to be like all the time, be this aspiration subconscious or completely unabashed.
These Bottega Veneta Spring/Summer 2011 ensembles fuel my age-old obsession with wearing (all) white, which coincidentally never manifests in the actual way I dress. There's a pragmatic motive behind my avoidance of white, a fear that my white clothes will get irreparably stained and I'll have to retire them. I'm one of those people who have nervous breakdowns if something unexpected happens to their sartorial possessions, as if I'm not aware of the fact that they come and go, that there's little chance I'm really going to wear something forever.
Despite this practical reasoning, anyone who knows me will have no trouble telling you I mostly sway towards black, the farthest away from white. I don't remember ever wearing black to express anything in particular. It just stuck with me because most of the clothes whose cuts, materials and textures I liked happened to be that color. While I do wear many other colors too, it's hard not to think of black as my staple color now. White doesn't fit into this story, which is probably why I've been postponing wearing it all this time.
I see myself in white in the future though, the clothes' structure corresponding to the color - airy, light and just enough loose, so as not to touch the body with their entire surface. The latter is one of my most beloved idea(l)s of the Japanese avantgarde school, one that I rarely put into practice despite feeling the connection. Like white, perhaps, it has yet to grow into a fully breathing part of me.
When I say that clothes are the closest to me of all, I mean it literally. Most of the time clothes are what is physically closest to our bodies; this is why I think they should be thought and talked about very often, not dismissed as trivial. Something that accompanies you (almost) 24/7 will undoubtedly leave imprints on you. You have the power to decide what these imprints will be like for you.
Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I'll be when (if) I'll be wearing all white and airy. It implies purity, but I was never concerned about that. Who knows?
So true, white is not a popular color outside of the runway. I only have a couple white pieces in my wardrobe. But white really translates in a wardrobe.
I currently have 2-3 white pieces, which I seldom wear. After writing this post I made a mental note to make better use of them next summer. :)
Your post resonates with me and I can relate to ideas like: "regardless of whether they're within my reach in any sense of the word or not (clothes) transport me into another world where I'm still me, but I'm also something I'm usually not." I believe your brand of escapism mixed with a healthy dash of realism is the best route to appreciating fashion. Many fashion followers get themselves into financial trouble because they can't accept that some things are meant to be coveted rather than possessed outright.
I walk through the halls of Holt Renfrew and admire the designer wares and run my fingers along the fine fabrics and although I leave empty-handed, I still feel enriched. I have re-affirmed who I am--an admirer of luxury fashion--while staying true to my reality--I have a budget!
Even if I can afford some things does not mean they are necessarily for me. An all-white ensemble, for example fulfills a fantasy, but does not work for everyday in real life. I adore Susie Bubble's outrageous couture choices but it doesn't mean I'm going to wear them to drop my kids off at school, etc. :)
Wow, thanks for this fantastic reply! I remember the first time I touched a Yohji Yamamoto dress (coincidentally, it was white) at 10 Corso Como in Milan, it was exactly like you said - I knew it was to be coveted rather than possessed. I think even if I had unlimited funds then, I would've left it on the rack.
It's like going to a museum or gallery - you experience all the beautiful things and feel enrichened and happy even though you don't take them home with you.
i feel the same towards the white! even now that i am doing kundalini yoga, which calls for all white robes, i am unable to bite the bullet and buy all-white exercise clothes. it's really a strange thing... i always say i am just not rich enough for white clothes, but it's the mindset, isn't it, rather than realities. just like when our mums keep the silver cutlery and the good china in the cupboard and it's never used.
well, recently i bought 2 new white couches for my living room, so maybe there is hope for me yet :D
Buying white couches is a sign of true bravery. :D The lightest color couches in our apartments/house have ever been is ... *drum roll* Dark brown.
I'm currently doing yoga in grey clothes ... at least they're not black.
I have a history of successfully avoiding exercise, mostly because there's not much exercise I can actually do due to my health condition, so I'm more than just a little surprised my yoga routine is working so smoothly (i.e. I haven't been skipping days). I'm not nearly as fit as Maya though. ;)