Saturday, June 6, 2015

Call me old fashioned



I will grow up a very poor woman. I unfortunately have a spending problem that spirals ever more out of control because of all of those big and small companies out there that produce lovely stuff, package them even lovelier and then have this or that stylish, fashionable, beautiful, inspiring woman or man present it to the world.

Don't get me wrong, if I was richer I would still be poor since this would entail just more money to spend on everything from lotions and creams to shoes and designer pillows.

We have become fetishist, each and every one of us. We all want the best organic skincare money can buy, and by that I mean a lot of money can buy. I will spare you big names that could drag my little Sinister behind for bad-mouthing them, but any example that comes to mind right now....yeah, that's it. Those ones.
Then we have shoes. Oh, the shoes. Living in shoeland as I am, I have arrived at a sad conclusion. Albeit being masterpieces, shoes are rarely sold at a fair price. Their prices are inflated, steroid-pumped, out of this world kind of prices. The production of some of the worlds most coveted shoes right now, and again I ask you to think of an example and I know you'll get it right, would buy a nice lunch in a normal trattoria in Italy. That's it. Everything on top is the shops, the magazines, the models, the celebrities and my fellow bloggers.  And that's fine. But it's not honest.

I love designer everything. Just like I said, I will be a perennially poor individual because I buy that stuff. But somehow, today, seeing the 1 millionth blog post showing a "Outfit of the Day" which from top to bottom would cost more than 5000€ and seeing all the comments at the bottom, somehow, it all felt wrong.
I have designer pieces, I also have H&M and Zara. I recycle. I think everybody does. I love to wear my clothes more than once. That's why I buy them for. Because I like them. So much that I want them to be part of my closet, something I could leave to my hypothetical daughter or granddaughter someday like my own grandma did with me.

I am not wearing stuff for anybody else than for myself. That's why I write here. Because I want to inspire and get inspired.
5000€ to frolic in the park is ridiculous and unrealistic and not inspirational.
And I'm getting resentful towards all the people who don't appreciate fashion for what it is. Art. Hard work. Personal. Revolutionary.
Not a bunch of high end labels stacked on top of each other meant to make us, the financially unstable fashion lovers, feel unworthy to be so.

But hey, that's just me.
I'll go back to my cave now.

Kiss and Peace
Old Fashioned Miss Sinister

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