i love fashion as a creative outlet. i love the idea of becoming a physical representation, a manifestation of your fantasy. what you want to portray, what you want to convey. you can set up an atmosphere around yourself, through a look. and you can change atmospheres whichever way you want, create so many personas. so many worlds, even through the simplest means. i just love the way that world and character building is merged with your physical self, and how both components feed off each other to create something more than the theoretical concept in mind. add a touch of humanness to aesthetics and you get something truly inspired. 

to fall for an object.

i often claim that i’ve never been in love, but in reality, i fall in love quite easily. i fall in love with people’s appearances all the time. their smiles, their eyes, their everything. physical attraction strikes me hard, and i’m often left lying on the ground, dazed. but not confused.

does it make me superficial? am i vain for getting so affected by something that is merely on the surface? a picture can stir something deep inside of me. it can make me feel such joy, or sorrow. it can make me shiver, or smile. it can move me. i’m visually inclined, and how is that any different from any other sense? is it any less valid than being brought to tears by a song? than being brought to the past because of a smell?

the appearance of objects, and the compositions of them, affect me. maybe it works the same way with humans. maybe a person is just an object, until i find out what’s inside. is it only when that which lays underneath the surface is brought out, that an object becomes a subject? or is the subject an ever-present fact? maybe it’s in the clothes, the scars and the gaze. maybe the subjective permeates us. maybe it’s what makes us different.

but i mistake the subject for an object. i fall in love with the way someone looks, and ignore the fact that there’s a perspective behind it. i imagine that it’s static, when it’s, in fact, very fluid. and then, when i eventually find out that what i’m feeling such an attraction to isn’t a what, but a who – it ends. the who has never been a who that i’ve fallen in love with. not yet.