...ramblings of a fashionable sociopath

Friday, March 30, 2012

I hate cuh-lahs

Colors. ugghhhh...where to start?
When I was little I used to love them. I had oranges and reds, purples and greens. There was even a blue period, a la Picasso, that spanned several years and was saturated with shades of turquoise, cerulean and navy.
When I was a club kid my days were filled with neon pinks and greens...strangely enough my skin did not burn when they touched it.

Somewhere along the way black took over my life. The last decade has been black. True, there were attempts at color which consisted of bronze, olive, mocha, and white. There was exactly one red dress (worn twice).

Black is classic. It is slimming, sophisticated, dark...perhaps a bit intimidating? It's always so easy to pack and mix and match your outfits when everything is black. And believe me, I do mean EVERYTHING. It is Chanel and Maison Martin Margiela and Rick Owens and McQueen...

I like my style...I think it is truly mine, somewhat reflective of certain trends but not overtly "fashion slave."
                                     modern, asymmetric...CLEAN. 
                     Black is the absence of color and is thus as clean as it can get.

I don't exactly know why but lately I have been craving color. Perhaps the changes in my life have heralded a shift in my outlook...perhaps the incessant barrage from Vogue has finally gotten to me.

Aesthetically colors are pleasing. They are wild and loud and elicit some people. I, much like a moth to a flame, approach colorful things with apprehension yet without control. I try them on...I yearn to like them...but every time they are in my proximity they make me feel strange. Unnerving perhaps. They do not make me happy, they do not quite look like they did in my mind and they certainly don't integrate with my general appearance.

Last week I decided to grit my teeth and power through my fear and intimidation of this palette and I went on a mission to find COLOR. Countless hours and stores later I am in possession of one blindingly bright neon green jacket, pastel blue skinny jeans, coral nail polish and a cerulean mini skirt. I also managed to find a long forgotten intense violet silk mini-dress that may make the cut.

                                      I can do this. I can do THIS. I want to do this. 
Because people that wear color seem ok...they seem happy, and approachable, and perhaps even, interesting.

I will never and physically cannot abandon black. But at this time I feel a bit oppressed by it...trapped in its' grip - unable to move away from looking like a black cat...

I want to play in the sun with the happy kids...even if I'll end up sarcastically smirking at them from a shadowy corner. Bring on the Dali period...

No comments: