I talked vaguely about depression in my last journal entry, how that mind bug made me feel detached from my surroundings, and led to sartorial confusion, having to navigate through unrest and conflict—most of which, self inflicted by my inability to separate what happens in the space around me from the one inside me.
Hoping to exploit my emotions for art, I seized the grievous aura of my circumstances and let it pull me in completely, in turn I'd do what any tormented artist would, make it into a tangible thing, a collection of garments that would tell a story, or at the very least help restore my creative equilibrium, but couldn't quite get myself to the emotional place I wanted to go with these clothes, I feel in some way that the woman I become when I get dressed with intention is too tough for that, though I didn't realize it until I took a step back and looked at what I had just created with new eyes.
Hoping to exploit my emotions for art, I seized the grievous aura of my circumstances and let it pull me in completely, in turn I'd do what any tormented artist would, make it into a tangible thing, a collection of garments that would tell a story, or at the very least help restore my creative equilibrium, but couldn't quite get myself to the emotional place I wanted to go with these clothes, I feel in some way that the woman I become when I get dressed with intention is too tough for that, though I didn't realize it until I took a step back and looked at what I had just created with new eyes.
Two months have passed since I started developing this symbolic bandage for my wounded identity. Although for you, who is reading this, doesn't seem like I've done much, due to my decision of ending the seasonal deal, and having my releases be sporadic and seldom, what's behind the curtain of my little fashion line's neglected public image is a large tonal scheme collection, filling up a rack with monochrome looks, not out of the ordinary for me to go dark and heavy if I'm honest, but this time it almost feels excessive, where seams blend in, and details disappear— you see, self expression is unintentional sometimes when you've trained yourself to use it as an advantage, because in this industry, that is exactly what you need to do to survive as an independent designer.
While I am proud of this body of work, I don't think is one I want to share so openly just yet. I've been guilty, in the past, of not putting much thought on the delivery of my work, but as it gets harder to exist under the shadow of the influencer bubble, and aggressive pointless self promotion, I feel like doing the opposite, holding back, questioning my instinct one more time, and self indulging in the fact that I am doing what feels right to me.
Editing and reworking every piece until I feel like the design value is on the same level as practicality is what I'm focusing on, because I need my clothes to work for an everyday, mundane environment, just as well as they could in an editorial story.
Be patient with me, I promise you, my intentions are good.
Dress: Aurum dress by Aelyse