I thought my identity was surfacing, but plunging into this world discussing identity, beauty and clothes has me drowning.
I went on a date last night, and tried on at least 5 different assemblages of my latest thrift store finds, and I just ended up in a tangle of material...
My roommate, an innocent bystander in my flurry of confusion, just laughed at me. I was desperate for someone's opinion, and asked her if I looked funny in my patterned skirt, tights and cowboy boots. Her response, simple, yet profound in my opinion, was that what ever I chose to wear, honestly did not make a difference.
"The thing is, it really doesn't matter."
WHAT. Oh, yes. But of course! I had already determined this. I don't care what people think anymore. That's right. I was "free" from that... remember Anna, I had suggested that you let Vogue know.
Yes, so apparently, I am still a member of the court— or at least striving to be. I want to look like I belong, or at least look good. I still have yet to determine what that even means for myself.
What is my style? My roommate is right; it sincerely does not matter. But yet, I feel as though it does. I long to be free from this...
Well, let's just pretend for a moment that it does matter. If it did, what would I like my style to be? I would want to be an effortless bohemian beauty, hippie-chic if you will. But simple. There is so much beauty in simplicity I believe.
This completely contradicts the style of Louis XIV, and I'm not sure what Anna Wintour would say about it, but, let's pretend for a moment, that it does not matter. Oh, but it doesn't.
ALL THAT'S REAL IS WHAT YOU FEEL...This is a theory that expresses the power of perception. It impacts us immensely, as can be seen in both the historical context of the French court and our modern context with Vogue, and how individuals conform to gain acceptance of the aristocratic powers that be...