— the art freak

Currently, there are five major trends I  have spied .

1)      Red and Camel

2)      White lace

3)      Black leather

4)      Leopard print

5)      Color Blocking

Red everywhere. A sandal. A clutch. Pants. Lips.  

Camel. A sad little color that is not very charming, but  also not hateful. It is a camel’s color for God’s sake.

White lace. Thanks Dolce and Gabbana. Brazilians have been using the same fabric long before Alessandra Ambrosio did.

Black leather. It’s a winter must wear. Bad-ass, rocker ish style has to be applied to cold weather.

Leopard print. Twenty seconds ago all of your pieces were stuck inside some suitcase.

Color blocking. Thanks, Gucci. Now we are all paring random colors and feeling awesome. Those twenty second again.

So it’s safe to say that these season we are all dressing colorfully? In red? In black? In camel-back color?

I guess it is really awkward how fashion slowly enters your day to day life. Fashion can be easily be spotted in different eras, time period, kingdoms. Today, it’s like a week thing! When you least realize it, everything has changed, all of your friends are wearing something else and get what you inside a very weird piece you would totally say “ eeeek” some months earlier.

These five trends to me scream PEER PRESSURE. It’s not like you would ON YOUR OWN, WITH NO PRESSURE WHATSOEVA, pick out a purple shit and green pants and feel awesome. You would NOT. But Camille Belle’s stylist (this case her mom) did and you sure thought she looked awesome. But would Camille Belle’s mom pick out that particular outfit before Gucci spread it on a Vogue ad? NOT.

I mean, there is NOTHING wrong in following trends. It’s the old style x fashion dilemma., but overall I love trends. I love knowing what is hot and what others are wearing. But in the other hand I just feel pressured to pick one of the five. Why do I feel funny picking a flowery top that maybe just as cozy as a leather one today? Because it is not one of the five top trends!!

Is this all about guilt? I am scared of fashion now.

Fashion is all about self expression, personal choice, and identity blablabla we all know that. But then comes trends and screws up the whole concept of choice. If I have to pick one of the five, then there is no PERSONAL. You CHOOSE within the five trends, you see.

Anyway, I am a fashion enthusiast, so do not expect me to ignore the trends. I am surely choosing one. Just don’t expect me to ignore all the past ones. Sorry.

** These are only five trends. After I was done writing I realized I missed longskirts, short boots, jeans jackets…

all pictures Lookbook.nu

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So… I have been wondering about this whole art-world-people thing. System. Ish. I don’t know why exactly, I can’t really explain… but lately I have been crazy-wanting to speak about what I love the most. Art. And all of it’s faces and bodies.

I had many diary-agendas growing up. 365 pages of wildness: staying home, going to school and hitting the mall. To me, writing every single day ( ahh those days with no essays or work to do…) was a personal treasure. Something I would look at years later and reminiscent on the old days. When I do find these long-time-no-see diary-agendas I literally regret every single word. I puke over my then-current platonic loves. I do laugh at my dreams. What happened to a dream differed? I guess they explode in laughter.

I have had moleskines, notepads,notebooks and…blogs. I started out with one about fashion. I had no courage to take self pictures and post it on the web. I wrote one about my paintings. But, who cares about those? I caught myself thinking about movies, clothing, advertisement, photography and everyday affairs. And all I wanted was to speak, write, hear and be heard.

I am an art enthusiast. It’s a true crazy-ass art love. I care for the realistic images of baroque saints. I enjoy the surreal life by Salvador Dalí and the white and blue contrast of Portuguese porcelain. I find admirable the creations of the Campana brothers,and the beautiful portraits created by make up artists who fill my Vogue magazines. I have anxiety pains when I see THAT pair of jeans on the runway and those sky-high heels that-little-someone was wearing to a who-cares-red carpet. I was diagnosed with art-risma. It´s incontrollable, undeniable, not always visible, but rather strong.

I am writing about my art freak life and my art freak choices.

Freaks are better united than separate. Join me, shall you?

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