Source: Fashionising.com
Showing posts with label Fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fashion. Show all posts
Sunday, July 3
A dream fashion show
17:52 The show is starting in a few hours. Barely able to breathe, I let my hand move itself into my man purse, extract a cigarette and light up; involuntarily while eager faces pass me. They're all giving me the "knowing" look and make me feel slightly uncomfortable. God what would I do without this cigarette? I ask myself as a few more neatly dressed girls amble by.
18:25 It's nearly showtime. Who do these people think I am? Everything is a haze and my head feel blanker than that of someone suffering from amnesia. I elbow my through a crowd of people; some familiar, others oddly unfamiliar. There's loud music blarring from speakers nearby and camera flashes are hysterically bursting all over the room. What is this? New Years eve?
18:45 Fifteen minutes to showtime. "Where are my models?" I scream at my Personal Assistant who is strutting around the room, eyes wide with her BlackBerry glued to her palm. "They're coming through Mr. Jacobs." She assures me in her native Italian accent. "Thank goodness Francesca," I exhale. "Let's get this show started! Line them up." She lines them up and I watch with a glow to my face as they take their positions in the queue. This is my debut and Milan is freezing cold. But who cares about the weather? Jacobs by Raeez Jacobs needs to launch successfully.
19:00 There's nothing I can do now. The first few girls walked the ramp already. I sigh out of relief and shoot looks of approval to some of them coming backstage for outfit changes. There's still chaos around me though and the repititive sound of a blowdryer gnaws at my ears. I glance at the audience and see the looks of satisfaction on their faces. They must like my line. Tonight is my night to shine.
18:25 It's nearly showtime. Who do these people think I am? Everything is a haze and my head feel blanker than that of someone suffering from amnesia. I elbow my through a crowd of people; some familiar, others oddly unfamiliar. There's loud music blarring from speakers nearby and camera flashes are hysterically bursting all over the room. What is this? New Years eve?
18:45 Fifteen minutes to showtime. "Where are my models?" I scream at my Personal Assistant who is strutting around the room, eyes wide with her BlackBerry glued to her palm. "They're coming through Mr. Jacobs." She assures me in her native Italian accent. "Thank goodness Francesca," I exhale. "Let's get this show started! Line them up." She lines them up and I watch with a glow to my face as they take their positions in the queue. This is my debut and Milan is freezing cold. But who cares about the weather? Jacobs by Raeez Jacobs needs to launch successfully.
19:00 There's nothing I can do now. The first few girls walked the ramp already. I sigh out of relief and shoot looks of approval to some of them coming backstage for outfit changes. There's still chaos around me though and the repititive sound of a blowdryer gnaws at my ears. I glance at the audience and see the looks of satisfaction on their faces. They must like my line. Tonight is my night to shine.
Fashion: Just means you have your head up your Armani ass!
Quite infallibly, there are people around us who strongly stand by the idea that fashion lovers are either gay (if they're male) or they're stuck-up snobs (for the want of a purely contemporary word). I refuse to allow these people to harbour these feelings since, for the most part, they're wrong. Even if I have to say so myself. Nowhere in the world does a profession have anything to do with your gender; to some extent, it has a lot to do with your personality because personality is momentous in determining what you produce and how you produce it. Quite frankly, gender's relation to work is a washed out phenomena that died with the advent of feminism and well, modernism. The extents to which we associate people with their professions is quite absurd. Does this mean that when I pass a construction site and see an effeminate man erecting a building, I should cringe?
Maybe not...I wouldn't. It would seem completely out place but does not put me in a position to assume anything about the man or judge him.
This brings me to the central concern of this post. Fashion lovers or Fashionistas aren't always gay or stuck-up. It's just like art and has a lot to do with the variations of colour, moods, textures and creativity. Like art-lovers, fashion lovers are immersed in what suites them best and what they love. There are people who are stuck up, by default or because they live with the misconcept of fashion giving you free will to be stuck up. This, however does not apply to all people who love fashion. Perhaps your closest friend is a little delusional and stuck up and loves fashion, you can't stand her personality and so you blame fashion. Doll, I think you need to think outside the box for the moment. This is not your father complaining about his tedious meetings and making his job sound like admin for Lucifer down there. It's fashion and your friend's stuck-up-ness probably has something to do with the personality she has cultivated from false impressions and misinterpretations of the world of #Fabulosity.
As for the assumption that all men who are into fashion are gay....Well, a great deal of them of are but this does not eliminate the fact that many straight men share a passion for fashion. Perhaps they're intrigued by the more technical side of it (such a side should exit) or perhaps they're attracted to the model walking the ramps or standing behind the camera. We'd never know. But I think at this point it's safe to assume that fashion, like every field of interest is open to even those beyond the boundaries of femininity or stuck-up-ness.
Maybe not...I wouldn't. It would seem completely out place but does not put me in a position to assume anything about the man or judge him.
This brings me to the central concern of this post. Fashion lovers or Fashionistas aren't always gay or stuck-up. It's just like art and has a lot to do with the variations of colour, moods, textures and creativity. Like art-lovers, fashion lovers are immersed in what suites them best and what they love. There are people who are stuck up, by default or because they live with the misconcept of fashion giving you free will to be stuck up. This, however does not apply to all people who love fashion. Perhaps your closest friend is a little delusional and stuck up and loves fashion, you can't stand her personality and so you blame fashion. Doll, I think you need to think outside the box for the moment. This is not your father complaining about his tedious meetings and making his job sound like admin for Lucifer down there. It's fashion and your friend's stuck-up-ness probably has something to do with the personality she has cultivated from false impressions and misinterpretations of the world of #Fabulosity.
As for the assumption that all men who are into fashion are gay....Well, a great deal of them of are but this does not eliminate the fact that many straight men share a passion for fashion. Perhaps they're intrigued by the more technical side of it (such a side should exit) or perhaps they're attracted to the model walking the ramps or standing behind the camera. We'd never know. But I think at this point it's safe to assume that fashion, like every field of interest is open to even those beyond the boundaries of femininity or stuck-up-ness.
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