Saturday, 28 November 2015

Life | Russian Roulette

I haven't written on here in a while because I didn't have anything to say. Instead I finished two books and roughly 8 seasons of Grey's Anatomy. I bought four more books last night and now have a total of 12 books to read before the New Year. Seeing as I've watched almost every TV show there is, that shouldn't be an issue.

Right now though I feel like a 'tortured artist'. Things to say but not many smart ways to say them. Yesterday morning I considered having a bottle of Rosé for Breakfast. Haven't you heard? That is what tortured artists do. They seek solace in alcohol or other recreational activities to allow themselves to say the things they find so hard to admit when their minds are in one piece. Alcohol breaks down the brain into pieces disallowing it to think clearly, to think rationally. And since creativity lies in get the picture. Plenty of gifted wine bottles lounge around my home with yet nobody to drink them. Give it time, I'll start soon.

An all or nothing mentality. It's probably why the word half bothers me so much. Luke warm showers, cold toast, half assed romance books, half filled glasses. If I can't get a high off something, then I don't want it. If I don't feel like a project is worth doing, I won't do it. I'll miss small opportunities because of that. Small opportunities that could lead to bigger things. Instead I wait for the large 'once in a lifetime opportunity' sailing my way in the hopes that when I make the jump, I'll land in the right place at the right time. There is no such thing as 'genius', or 'special' or 'gifted'. All there is is preparation and an expiration date. We all get that one chance and most of us miss it. 
All or nothing. A Roulette game that I'm very much ready to play.

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Character Assassination

I believe there are things we do for people and things we do for ourselves. The key to materialising what we want to do is differentiating what we are doing for people and what we are doing for ourselves

They say a writer isn't just one person but a collection of persons living in one body. Every week, I display a part of myself to the Internet world on this site. You don't need to meet me in person to know who I am. You probably know me better than some of my friends and family. 
Don't be fooled by the false names and scenarios, if you look deep enough you'll find me on every inch of this site. 
Character assassination. I take part in it everyday, highlighting my traits and deep thoughts, my strengths and my downfalls. You could say I do it for myself and that's 20% true but honestly? I do it for you. I write to convey:

I want to make you feel something.

I want to get a message across to you.

I want to take you to somewhere you've never been before.

I want to change your story by changing mine.

They say style is a form of expression that gives you permission to flaunt who you are without uttering a word. That is 100% for me. I dress to convey a mood, a character trait or culture - past and present. I don't do it for you because there is nothing you can learn from it. You must create your own. You must dictate what is valuable to you and what isn't. Dig deep and determine what you want to show to the world but do it for you -- not for them.

So today I take part in fashion for myself so that in ten years I will be able to take part in fashion for you in the hopes that I can convey emotion, concept, teleportation and clarity in the products that you may one day choose to use as your form of expression. 
As with the writing, I have been writing for myself from the age of 10. Ten years have passed and I hope my writing - like your favourite TV shows, movies and books - will change your story...or at least your thoughts. 


Thursday, 12 November 2015

Classe | Belissima Cavalli

Img source: (Roberto Cavalli Official)

I remember writing a letter to Roberto Cavalli stating that he had better work with me because I was in need of being transformed into the most beautiful belle at the ball. This was when I was lying in bed with an awful disease called shingles in August. I mean, clearly I was delusional and the medication I had been taking silenced the voice in my head that was initially screaming -- 

"M r.  R o b e r t o  C a v a l l i  d o e s  n o t  r e a d  l e t t e r s  f r o m    
s t r a n g e  s e l f  p i t y i n g  g i r l s."

Roberto Cavalli was infatuated with beautiful women. His long life dream? To make us feel even more beautiful. With his creative eye, Mr Cavalli morphed women into sensual empresses, lionesses, QUEENS of a queendom using beautiful animal prints, bold colours of nature and dramatic cuts. A passion for the art and anything beautiful. 

Cavalli Girl

Throwing parties of extravagance would become a monthly hobby. A long champagne dress to hide the parts of my body that are most revealing but to bare shoulders, collar bones and a little bit of leg.  I'd order the best Pinot Grigio and Dom Pérignon. I'd find a kick ass caterer to create sushi bowls and yummy desserts. Beautiful velvet throw pillows with gold appliqué. Royal blue chiffon draping from the ceiling. Candles and ancient ornaments ostentatiously placed around the room. Hookah pipes and an intimate guest list. Loud music and a constant flow of discussions would linger around the room. The night is young. Then the night is over. The only task left is to fall asleep in a white print kaftan with nothing but the loud rings of a successful party echoing in my ear. 


Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Mood | Moonlight Dancing

Amira observed her friends sitting on the couches in front of the artificial fire in her apartment. Under the influence of Margaritas, chatting about politics and people they hated. Pop music that none of them particularly liked blared out of the speakers. But for tonight they would enjoy that and the bitter taste of tequila. In a metallic gold turtle neck crop top and high waisted black velvet leggings, Amira stood up to sway to the music.

'You know we should go to Amsterdam tonight. Head to the airport and just book tickets, we'd be there in no time.' she said.

'You're either completely out of your mind or really fucking wasted. I choose the latter.' Eve laughed.

'Think of the lights. Think of the canals. Think of the people.' Amira pleaded as she moved over to Eve.

'I'm not wasting this outfit on a plane ride. We're going out tonight.' Jay pointed at his Armani watch, overpriced leather jacket and checkered shirt to match. 

'We could actually do it. I don't go back to work until Monday.' Jenny enthused, pushing her sandy brown hair behind her ear.

'It's a Thursday night and unfortunately for me banks open on Friday's, then again I'm the boss.' Shay grinned cheekily.

The frosty Winter contrasted the warmth of Amira's apartment. Their laughter and chatter compensated. Eyes lost in Christmas lights that brightened up the city, facial expressions broken down to define only that of content. Amira inhaled the cold air. To exhale was to feel the joy that had been building up in her all night. 

'So where will we go for coffee in the morning?' she said smiling at a complete stranger. The energy around her was magnetic, and if one thing led to be true, strangers loved a good smile. 

Thursday, 5 November 2015

Classe | The Sins of Balmain

Img source: (Balmain)

From old money minimalism to the perfectly contrived extravagance of the nouveau riche. From exclusivity to inclusivity. From dust to gold. Balmain is now the most desired fashion house of the 21st century. Olivier Rousteing, one day I'll meet you and ask how you did it and you'll refuse to tell but we'll laugh over coffee in cafe de flore and you'll tell me how poor my French is. 

There is only a thin line that separates yin from yang and on occasion we allow ourselves to cross this line, ripping off the mask that covers our dark sides and allowing ourselves, for one brief moment to embrace dark thoughts, emotions and actions. Our true selves and our egos cohabit within us and everyday we choose between the two.

Balmain Girl

Champagne for breakfast because it's 5pm somewhere in the world. 5AM wakeup calls. Money to earn, money to spend...and people in the world to prove wrong. 100 hour weeks. Sleepless nights. A craving for the fast life so motorcycles over cars. From dawn to dusk. From work life to night life. From leather pants and plain t shirts to eloquently designed beaded couture dresses and blazers. 24 carat  jewels. Elegantly slicked back buns. Musky scents. A work of art.  My body is simply the canvas I choose to decorate.


Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Mood | Shameless

Elle Gardner watched the bouts of cigarette smoke cloud the reflection of herself in the mirror. She killed the sparks of the half smoked Marlboro with her fingers and picked up her Vodka tini. In leather pants and a lace corset, she strutted towards the door of the bathroom, suddenly engulfed in a chaos of loud music. Her eyes half open and disengaged,  her strut a little unbalanced, facial expression unreadable. 

Crossing over to the bar, she decided there were greater evils in the world and she wanted a taste. Her credit cards, cheque book and cash were all sitting on the bedside table of the Ritz Hotel. But what was money in a world where a pretty face was just as powerful a currency? Fuck it. Someone else would fund her habits of self destruction.  

The barman set down a champagne coupe of Mimosa in front of her. 'From him' he said pointing at the guy at the opposite end of the bar. 
Elle looked over blankly before turning back to look at the young barman. 'Scotch on the rocks please. And put it on his tab.' Elle smiled coyly before walking over to her knight in shining Armani.
'Thanks.' she said.
'So what brings a pretty girl like you here?' he asked.

'I'm just here for the free drinks. And in the morning I'll probably wake up and wonder what the fuck was I doing in a 20 somethings bar accepting drinks from old Johns like yourself.' She said grinning this time.

He chuckled. 'Then why do you do this? Why do you come here? I see you every week on the exact same night around the exact same time. You spend no more than an hour and then you leave.' 

'Aren't you supposed to be asking me if I want to dance?' she retorted, a sarcastic tone eminent in her voice. 

But a different answer floated in the midst of her thoughts. She wanted to say that it was a coping mechanism. A way to prove that she was in control of her life. That she could either tear it apart in any given moment or build it up. She toyed with both sides to hold the balance of power. 

But in trying to prove that she was in control, she engaged in activities that controlled her. Elle Gardner lived a life of excruciating irony. 


Monday, 2 November 2015

DEVIL - may - care

For one night of the year, the world allows you to either take a mask off or put a mask on. But why does everyday feel like Hallowe'en? 
86,400 seconds pass by in a day and everyday we spend a little bit of unnoticeable time constructing a new mask to display to the world. As if our original faces are too ugly to show. Doing jobs we don't like, studying subjects we have no true interest in, focusing on the lives of others, envious and bitter that everything we want is not yet ours. So we continue the cycle and put on masks in the hopes that it will help us to get to where we want to be.  Constantly hiding behind popularity, social acceptance and praise based on fabricated truth. Living an inauthentic life. 

This year I've learned that living for the sake of others, money or social acceptance is metaphorical suicide. I have to be myself and that means accepting the good, the bad and the ugly. I see people online who only embrace the positives and lock the negatives in a pandora box that will eventually breed the loathing of themselves or others. Forming a depiction of happiness so fake that it can only be pure. 
They say all creative people - actors, writers, artists, singers - were born with just a little bit of insanity but the truth is creative people release those negative energies back into the world through form of expression. They acknowledge them, embrace them and then finally let them go; Creating dark music, writing stories, playing a bad character. I've come to learn that stifling my level of creativity for the sake of opposing opinions is simply not an option. This isn't a site about continuously positive events. This is a site about embracing good fortune and also life tragedies. Releasing all energies through the art of fashion, writing, and imagination.


Life | Abstract

Today in this moment I am happy. Not because anything special happened to me. I didn't win the lottery. I didn't leave the country and I certainly didn't find love in a hopeless place. But I'm happy because I choose to be. Self awareness is the most liberating concept in the freaking world. I am a lot of things. Stylish, charismatic, creative, chatty, sensitive, cynical, pessimistic, un-relatable, blunt.  Recently I've found myself embracing all of these traits, not treating them as strengths or flaws but simply recognising them as who I am. Knowing that It is okay to accept every single thing about myself in a world that aggressively promotes rejection is liberating. It makes me want to break barriers and let the world in. It makes me want to soar.

I don't believe people have the ability to change who they are. Improvise, reconstruct, yes but who you are within will never change. You simply cannot wipe the painting on a canvas clean. But what you can do is add more paint to turn it into what you want it to be. This is what I hope to do. To paint beautifully an abstract art of everything that I am and everything I aspire to be. I look forward to seeing the end result. I look forward to liberating myself.