(rodarte for opening ceremony blouse, skirt gift from sobotka)
I really must offer a huge thanks to Sobotka for this skirt. It's a one-off piece that looks as though it came out a nightmare, but the kind of nightmare that isn't terrifying upon waking, just unsettling, and that mood is seductive to me. I've been waiting for months for the proper weather to wear it- that is, an unseasonably comfortable November day, with the obscured sun hanging low in the sky and the wind blowing in all four directions at once. And perhaps a bit rainy. Sometimes I become mildly obsessive about not only what I'm wearing, but the context it is presented in. It gets very exhausting to sometimes eschew practicality in favor of bloodied lace skirts, but I get so compelled to mirror my environment in what I wear, and create stupid little stories that exist only in my brain, stories I share with no one, because I like to keep my thoughts as my own. And like, how pretentious is that to explain to people that "oh I'm wearing this outfit because I've created a fictional character with this skirt, and a back story that only exists within this moment in time", does anyone really want to hear that? Doubtful. I guess one's thoughts are the ultimate safe space. Cocoon yourself within them.
Maybe being stuck too much in your own brain isn't a bad thing. The world is hard enough as it is, and sometimes your perception of it can be a coping mechanism.