You got me. You got me and you don’t want me. People keep telling me that this is just another crush. They keep apologizing for the fact that you don’t seem interested. They keep telling me that I should move on. What they don’t understand is that this is not your run of the mill crush. I don’t want to give up on you yet. Even though you never gave me the chance, I’m not ready to throw in the towel.
We met studying abroad. That’s when it hit me. We had had a class together freshman year but didn’t even realize the other's existence. As soon as you opened your mouth and revealed your witty sense of humor and cute mid-western accent I wanted to be your best friend. And that is exactly how it started. I had a fatty friend crush on you. I didn’t see you in the romantic sense and yet I wanted to spend every second with you. You were nice and charming and funny. And as we spent weekends traveling to new places I got to learn little things about you. Like how you are afraid of birds after freaking out when we fed the pigeons in San Marcos Square in Venice. Or how you have the biggest sweet tooth and could never turn down a gelato.
Unfortunately, we weren’t living in the same building and we didn’t have any of the same classes so I went over a month without seeing you. I had pushed you to the back of my head and almost even forgotten about you. It’s a shame that I didn’t, it’s a shame that I almost did. You resurfaced in my life in December. It was not only you who had surfaced, but new feelings did as well. The last night before Christmas break you looked into my eyes and told me that you were a better person when you were with me. Was that only drunken flattery or are you too afraid to admit that it might be true?
We talked briefly once over break. It was friendly, light conversation and I was filled with excitement at this blossoming friendship and the adventures it would bring when we were back at school. I thought you felt the same.
Before I continue I must elaborate. This isn’t a normal crush. This is an “I’m suddenly back in the fourth grade and I can’t help but tell everyone about you” crush. But what I didn’t tell others was that even though we were still practically strangers I could see a future with you. I imagined you meeting my whole family and how they would say they’ve never met a nicer young man. I saw us showing each other our hometowns and sharing our childhood dreams. I could actually see myself marrying you and how great of a husband and a father you would be. I had gotten too attached too fast. I drowned in those deep brown eyes of yours. How could I have misread the signs that much? How could I have let myself get that swept up in it all? How could you run away from me the second you picked up on the fact that I now looked at you a little differently? Do you even have the slightest clue? I know that you aren’t a ladies man. You haven’t dated anyone your entire college career. And I’m the same way. But maybe it’s time you opened yourself up to the possibility. I finally opened up for you.
I took a chance. I put myself out there for you time and time again. And what did you do? You repeatedly left me hanging. You filled me up with promise and then let me down hard. I know I should give up on you already. But when I think I’m about to, you surprise me in the tiniest way and pull me right back in. And that part of my soul deep down inside that’s attached to you is just too stubborn to surrender.
I’m here. I’m waiting. I’ll keep trying.
Save yourself some trouble and give me a chance?
ph: STEFFANIE LING
I should have guessed, when I first laid eyes on you that I was in trouble. I was the one you chose, out of all the doe eyed, helpless girls you chose me, and I was lost. I can't remember when I lost control of it, when I fell, but I do remember the way you looked at me, the way you touched me, like there was nobody else in the room, nobody but me.
You used to grab my hand, slip your fingers into mine, they were so much bigger, but they fit perfectly, and we were perfect. You would wrap yourself around me, you would engulf me, I always felt so safe in your arms, invincible. I could feel your love seeping into me, it smothered me and protected me from the world, because you were mine, and you were here.
And then you left.
You left, but your still here.
I miss your touch, your kiss, your smell, your everything. Sometimes late at night, I can feel you sleeping next to me, I can still feel your warmth and it's like you're home.
Sometimes we'll speak to each other in different languages. We used to sneak off together, we would plan it all out, we were invincible, we still are.
I remember this time, you had made me a fort downstairs, and we were sitting in it like children. It was in the beginning, and I just remember, I remember how badly I wanted to tell you that I loved you, but I was terrified, I still am. Later we would speak those words to each other in confidentiality, though it didn't last for long. You would always show me off, you wanted everyone to know I was yours, this girl, who loved you, I was the greatest thing in the world to you.
Months later, we still belong to each other. We've gown up, grown together, but we're still the same. I would still cross the sea to be with you, and you'd still fight off bears and lions to protect me. It is the greatest thing to have ever happened to me, it is such a gift, to be loved by you, to be yours.
And through thick and thin, I will always be here, right by your side, right where I belong, with you.
leather jacket: thrifted
invisible 14cm platform 1990's boots: thrifted
Last weekend I went into H&M to buy socks and walked away with this pair of white wide trousers. They were sadly hanging over a rack with a 50% off tag and they looked completely disgusting covered in dark dust. But they were exactly my size and cup of tea. That's what I have to give H&M credit for; they always seem to have just the thing that you are not looking for. As for the socks, I totally forgot about them.
This is my favorite look from the new spring summer lookbook from Land. Each season they expand their collection by adding new items and colours to their ever growing collection of garments. Which means that their clothes are not bound to season and will be always available throughout the years. This panelled legging for example has already been part of Land for a few seasons but now just came in a new bright orange color. Land's inspiration is always the archetypal shapes of clothes; generic trousers, your typical tshirt or a basic button up shirt.
You and I were never meant to be lovers. I was from a small northern Californian town, running away from my past of too many broken romances. You were from Los Angeles, the city of endless possibilities. When I met you, we breezed past each other, completely unaware of each others existence, you and your girlfriend were in some fight over your job promoting, and I was in wanderlust with the new LA night scene.
However, as time passed we became more and more entangled. Late nights partying together, early morning brunches with the gang, and that one night. That one single night when I was talking to you and in one second you became all I thought about.
I am not sure how someone that meant nothing to you can all the sudden be all you ever think about, but that's what happened. You became my personal brand of heroin. I was intrigued by you and your mysterious ways, your bad boy persona, I wanted to be let into your inner circle. And for some reason you let me in, and I was hooked. But I didn't trust you nor did you trust me, not that it could stop us.
We spent our times hiding our romance from the world, with secret meeting spots, long nights entangled in lust with each other, and secret glances and embraces when no one was looking. It kept going on for month until we where inseparable, and somewhere down the line we fell in love.
You saw my broken ways and literally became the wall that stopped me in my tracks. My stubborn personality and twisted sense of trust with guys made me hide everything from you along with everyone else. But for some reason you keep pushing and prodding untill you knew ever last detail, even things that I hadn't even know about myself. You stuck with me, making me snap out of my broken way, cleaning up the broken mess of a heart I had from all the horrible romances before you. But like I said, you and I were never meant to be lovers, and we both knew that. While you helped me, I helped you. We grew together, but we where toxic lovers. From all the lies we had told each other neither of us trusted the other, and though we loved each other we weren't able to get past the heartache we had caused each other. The fighting was never ending, and your constant desire to hide me from your friends, family, and coworkers ate away at me. Then when the violence came in I had to leave.
It has been two weeks now. I still cry when I think of you going to your apartment and seeing that all my stuff was gone. I still can heard the distress in your voice when you called me asking where I was. I still think about you everyday, every second.
I just want to say I am sorry. I am sorry for leaving, I am sorry for not saying goodbye, I am sorry for not explaining. But you and I both know we couldn't keep going on the way we were. You where my angel, and you saved me. No matter how rough the bad times were, I never for a second regret our time together. You are always with me, it is just that sometimes, no matter how much two people love each other, it just will not work, and as much as it hurts me, and as much as I wanted to have your for myself, you where never mine to have. I wish you nothing but the best in life, and though I know I will never see you again, I hope that you know that I will always love you, and there is not enough words in the world to express how thankful I am for having have met you and gotten to have you in my life.
Until another life,
photos from Style East and Alice Point
So many interesting things were going on around me during London Fashion week that I forgot to take pictures of what I was wearing myself. But luckily my outfits are popping up on other blogs! Here's what I wore on day 3; shirt from Land, Topshop jeans, heels Acne and hoodie from boyfriend.
ring: hardware store
To do this two toned manicure in nude and black all you need is a bit of black naipolish and 15 minutes. You could use maskin tape to cover half of your nail before you paint it but if you have a steady hand it's much quicker to just go ahead and do it without.
ph: Adriano Sodré via The Luxury Spot
It really all started the first time we ever hungout. It was awkward, and we didn't really know how to act around each other. Until you kissed me. My entire world turned upside down, and I swear I knew I loved you the second your lips touched mine. I've never felt a kiss like that before, and even 4 years later, nothing has compared to that kiss. I waited for you for almost a year; you put me through hell not being able to make up your mind, leading me on and shutting me out. But I still waited for you. There was something about you, and I knew I would do literally anything to have you. And finally, on April 27th, 2009, you were mine. You asked me to be your girlfriend, and I was happier than I had ever been. The first few months of our relationship were absolutely perfect. We spent all of our time together, took each others' virginities, and fell in love with each other pretty hard. We were THAT couple that everyone envied. You treated me like a princess, and we were so happy together. Then things started to go downhill for the first time.
You told me we fought all the time (which we didn't), and we were on the phone for 3 hours, trying to talk things out. And then you said those words: "I think we should see other people." I completely lost it. I cried all night, and even woke my mom up in the middle of the night to comfort me. We talked a little the next day, and he said he needed some time to think about it. I was so miserable. I couldn't go anywhere without crying. I really felt as though my life was over. We were apart only a few days, when you came back to me and said how much you wanted to be with me. I was so relieved. I really thought this was just a small rut in our relationship, and everything would be okay. And it was, for a while.
Our relationship continued going great. We spent all of our free time together, texted each other constantly, went on cute dates, and grew closer as a couple. I loved showing you off whenever we went out, and everything just seemed like it would be okay when I looked in your eyes. We had a few rough patches, but what relationship doesn't? For our one year anniversary, my parents were out of town for the week, and you came to my house every night and spent an amazing 7 days with me. Even to this day, I have never been as happy as I was during that week. You came to my school with a dozen red roses and hungout with me on my break. Then you came back with me to my house. You made me my favorite dinner, we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie, and you went into my room and covered it in candles. It was so beautiful. We made love and fell asleep holding each other. It was the greatest one year anniversary present I could have asked for. You made me feel so special, and I'll never forget the way you made me feel that day.
The next few months things weren't very good. It seemed like we fought more often, and agreed on things less. The stress of school and everything else in your life really started eating you alive. Until one day, while I was at work, you started saying that you wanted to go to a 4 year college, potentially out of state, and that I couldn't handle it. You said you looked at your future and didn't see me in it. You told me you "loved me but you weren't in love with me". And you broke up with me for a second time. Via text message. Again, I was a complete wreck. I wouldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I was in so much pain all the time. I lost weight, I started drinking and smoking all the time. I completely lost a grip on myself. I tried to talk to you. You would either ignore me or be a complete asshole. All I wanted was closure, to meet in person and tell me what happened. And you wouldn't give me that. I had to force myself on you pretty much to get you to talk to me. We met up one night and nothing really got accomplished. You told me certain people told him I wasn't right for him, and you started to believe them. After that, we totally didn't talk at all for 4 days. Then you texted me, and we started talking and agreed to be friends. I invited you to a party I was going to, and we both got pretty drunk and ended up sleeping together that night. After that, things started getting weird. Even though we were broken up, we still spent a lot of time together. Hanging out, going out to lunch, and even though it wasn't helping the situation, still sleeping together. I found that you were a lot nicer to me as just friends than when we were dating. It was hard only being friends with you, but I needed you in my life.
We were broken up for about a month. Until one day, I was hanging out with this boy Jon, who I started to have feelings for. You were texting me all day, and you knew I was at Jon's house. I thought it was weird that you were texting me so much. Anyway, Jon and I kissed, and I really thought something great could turn out with me and him. You asked me if we had a thing, and I said I didn't know. And then you asked if you could call me. I thought that was completely weird, because you hadn't called me since we were dating. So I called you, and you started crying, saying how much you wanted me back, and that you loved me. I told you I didn't know what to say. I was completely speechless. The next day, I asked if we could get together and talk. So we did, and you made me all these promises that you would change. That you wouldn't ignore me when you were mad, or hangout with girls who tried to ruin our relationship, or just stop being an asshole in general. You told me you would do anything to get me back. And I gave in. We got back together, and everything was so great for a few months. He even bought us promise rings for my birthday to prove we would love each other forever. We never took them off, and were planning on getting an apartment together at the end of the summer.
About 2 months ago, I noticed things starting to change. I had to basically force you to hangout with me, you would ignore my texts all the time, you would pick fights with me about everything, you wouldn't text me back when I said I loved you if you were mad at me, you were irritable towards me and everyone else in your family. I confronted you several times about it, and you kept saying you would stop being a douchebag. But you never did. Things only got worse. Then you started doing the play at school, and that's when things reaaally started to change. You seemed to put that before me, and I said that it seemed like you loved the play more than you loved me. Then you lost your promise ring. I understood it was an accident, but it was so careless for something that was supposedly so important to you. You didn't even seem upset about it, and didn't even put in much of an effort to find it. I decided that enough was enough. You didn't seem like I made you happy anymore. So I wrote you a 5 page letter addressing everything you did that hurt me, everything that I loved about you, and then finally, saying that we need to take a break. I said that you need to figure out how important I am in your life. You said you would take some time to think about everything I said, and you would talk to me after.
A day later, you wanted to meet me. We met at a park near your house, and you broke up with me for good this time. You said that things just weren't working, and that things were going to get worse and you didn't want to deal with them. You said things that I did that you couldn't stand, and basically blamed the relationship not working because of me. I drove home and cried all night. I talked to his mom, who was crying in disbelief. We were really close, and she just couldn't believe this was happening. You told me that we couldn't be friends for a while, or talk to each other at all. You would just be a jerk about everything whenever I tried to talk to you. Five days after we broke up, I saw pictures of you and another girl at Winter Carnival together, smiling with your arms around each other. This killed me. Then, on your birthday a few days later, you blocked me from Facebook and changed your relationship status. A week and one day after you broke up with me, you started dating another girl. I was so angry. And you were so mean about it.
It's been about a month since we broke up, and you still refuse to talk to me or consider being friends. You are still with your girlfriend, and you seem really happy. I wish I knew what happened, we were so in love. You were the reason our relationship fell apart, because you let it. It's been easy being without you, because I know it's for the best. But I still miss you. And I will always love you, but I will never understand what happened between us.
lipstick: airborn unicorn byLime Crime
sportsbra: H&M 2 years ago
Besides Fashion Week, Uniqlo was one of the things I was looking forward to on my trips to London. We visited the store 3 times and stayed inside about an hour each visit. I ended up buying only one thing; these not so slobby sweatpants.
ph: Shelby Eaton
I'm in love with my best friend, and I have been for years.
It's not so much a realization as it is my total acceptance of it. I've always known I was in love with her, I just never really stopped to think about it. I couldn't, we're best friends. I wouldn't allow myself to become one of those cliché Facebook statuses I hate. You know the ones; a short story about a boy loving a girl and never telling her, watching her live her life and wishing he had the guts to tell her, all the way up until one of them is on their death bed. Of course, now I know that I always hated those because subconsciously I realized I was reading about myself.
As bad as it may sound, I've actually looked for flaws with her. Now, I'm a little bit of a pessimist (I call my self a realist, but let's be honest, it's not a huge leap from one to the other), so I'm particularly skilled at finding flaws. There is not a single thing about her I would ever consider changing in the slightest. She is literally the epitome of everything I've ever looked for in another human being. Feed the cliché.
I really realized I loved her when she started dating a guy we went to highschool with. He was the outgoing all star athlete with a chiseled jaw. Perfection. Women loved him, and men wanted to be him. I'm the type that will begin to dislike you for getting the girl I want, even if you aren't perfect. It never happened with him. Yes, I was crushed. Watching them love each other day after day was something I would typically not be able to handle in the least. This case was so unique in that I really only cared that she was happy, no matter how much it hurt me. They were going to get married and I was going to smile and clap and be truly happy for her, glad that she found her "one", even if it wasn't me. Feed the cliché.
In the meantime, I've had relationships here and there, all ending quite badly (I'm a professional at being used). She was always very supportive, "Don't worry, you're the kind of guy every girl wants to marry, you'll find her". Sure, heard that before. "No one takes the time to realize just how amazing you really are". Thanks, I'm sure that's the case. Over time I noticed how much I would subconsciously compare all these women to her. Not aesthetically, really, no one can ever match how unbelievably beautiful she is to me. They were all great for their own reasons, but they were never her. Feed the cliché.
Anyway, I suppose I'm rambling. Over the years, there have been hints back and forth that perhaps she liked me as well. It's been tough to read. At one point I was even quite convinced that she did, in fact, want to be with me. People would even point it out, how perfect we are and that we should date. All we would ever respond with was awkward giggling followed by relative silence, occasionally she'd mention she was dating the guy I mentioned before. Of course, I couldn't act while she was so happily taken, I'm just not the type. Not to mention I wouldn't know if maybe I was just reading too far into something because subconsciously that's what I wanted. Feed the cliché.
She's single now. They lived far away from each other and she couldn't handle it anymore. The perfect time for me to act, right? Not so much.
Thing is, I don't have many friends. It's not that people don't like me, it's just that everyone I knew moved away for college and we grew apart. There are four of us total, including myself. If I were to tell her how I felt and she respond in any way other than also secretly having feelings for me over the years, I would not only lose her but my friends as well. We hang out exclusively as a group. It's tough to explain, but it wouldn't be them being bad friends. I could hang out with one or the other now and then, but in general it would just tear the group asunder.
I can't keep quiet anymore, I've told a few third party people the situation. They all respond with "I could tell you love her, that's so cute, tell her". Everyone knows. I don't make it obvious, I've gone to quite some effort to make sure of that, but somehow everyone can still tell. Maybe it's the way I look at her, I don't know. If they know, she has to. If she knows, you think she'd make an effort to confirm any feelings she has. At the other end of the spectrum, maybe she has feelings and she's just as good as I feel like I am at masking it and she's just afraid she's wrong or what it would do to our group.
There's only one way to know. I'm at a loss, and I'm not sure how to handle it. I can't tell her, but I know I'll regret it if I don't tell her. As pathetic as it may sound, I've started carrying a to-do list every day; at the very top is "Tell [her name] I'm in love with her". Every day, it remains the only thing not crossed off. In the back of my mind, I take solace in knowing that if something were to happen to me, someone would find that and maybe then she would find out what I've been so aching to do.
She's currently single and, being as amazing as she is, will certainly find someone as soon as she's ready. It's not tough for her to meet people. Even if I were to tell her now, she's getting over a break up. There really is no "right" time to do it. The only way I won't be filled with regret, is if it turns out the way it would in a perfect world. The chances of that are obviously astronomically small.
If this seems forced, it's because it was. And I'm sure I've missed a lot. It's too long, probably the most clunky thing I have ever written, and I've hardly scratched the surface of the situation. I'm not even re-reading what I've just written. I just needed to let my thoughts spew out and put this somewhere, as it's been eating me alive more and more in the past weeks.
I ask myself every day why I don't tell her.
I'm just scared.
At Acne, everything is always right on spot. The collection, the magazine, the stores. The show, which I normally only get to see through slick style.com images, was everything I´d expect from the Swedes; it all made prefect sense. After climbing a stair or 6, visitors arrived at the top floor of the venue which kind of looked like a parking with its concrete floors, 2 meter thick round pillars, raw ceilings and dilapidated walls. This gigantic space used to be the London's post sorting office and has been empty for 15 years. A four meter high marble printed decor was set up in the middle. Everyone from Emanuelle Alt to Florence Welch to Kate Lanphear (could continue dropping names for quite a while but I'll spare you that bit) were there. The models walking through it a couple of minutes later in boxy sculptured jackets, leather dresses and pointy glasses completed the slightly futuristic story.
ph: via weheartit
“I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there so much but at least that means that I still care. Oh! You’ve think you won because women are expendable to you. You may not get hurt or make an ass of yourself that way but you don’t fall in love that way either. You have not won. You’re alone. I may do a lot of stupid shit but I’m still a lot closer to love than you.”
I’ll admit what I’m about to post is pretty embarrassing, but like I’ve said this is my own blog, I’m not holding on back on what I write in it and I shouldn’t be ashamed to do so, just in knowing others may read it. In fact, good. Good that others may read it because maybe you know what I’m going through or maybe you don’t, but either way here we go.
I am spoiled when it comes to guys. I am spoiled because the first guy I ever dated was one of those truly attractive and unattainable types. And then guess what, he liked me too. We dated. We ended. We were friends. Then the first guy I ever fell in love with was completely unattainable, more so than the last. This guy was well-known, and popular, and smart, and funny, and a lot of girls were after him. And guess what, he liked me too. We dated, we fell in love, we broke each other’s hearts. This pattern of falling for guys and having them fall for me too made me spoiled going into college. Winning a guy over in college is not the same as it may have been in high school. All college guys think about is sex and partying. Well, the majority of them anyway. I got a reality smack when I really fell for this guy my sophomore year. He knew it. His friends knew it. He used it against me on several occasions. I spent a lot of time and emotion on a complete idiot who had I wound up being with, I doubt I would have been very happy. So I chose to move on because honestly what else could I do? It was obvious that the feelings were not returned so rather than continue to make a bumbling fool of myself, I swallowed my pride and erased him from my world. Which to no ones surprise, he had absolutely no reaction to. Then a couple months later, he had a girlfriend. And to be honest, that sort of crushed me. It wasn’t the relationship he didn’t want, it was me.
I wouldn’t exactly go around saying I am extremely confident but when I saw that he had actually committed to someone and is still with them today, it was a definite blow to my self-esteem. What was wrong with me? Am I unattractive, was I too smothering or obnoxious? Was something off about my personality? Do I care too much? I hated feeling that way. I don’t like people getting the best of me and making me doubt myself because I like who I am. I am secure with who I am and when I have to question that- I find it disgusting and humiliating. So anyway … college continues and I’ve come to accept the fact that guys are just guys here. Friends, or people I’ve partied with- but no one worth getting myself all upset over again should I get rejected after making subtle hints that I’m interested in being more than friends. I was doing good with this theory for awhile. I took the Fall Semester off last year to clear a few things up with myself and life at home and came back for the Spring. I lived in an apartment with my two best friends and had a lot of wonderful memories. The last week of school we went to a local bar for a friends birthday where pretty much my iron-clad rule of not falling for anyone else while I was in school turned to shit in a matter of seconds.
When I notice a guy, the first thing I always notice are his eyes. And this guy- sheesh, was I screwed. I’d seen a him couple times around the bar that night but didn’t exactly have the guts to go up and say anything to him so I accepted that he was one of those very attractive guys I’d see once in my life and then never see again. Low and behold, as the bar lights came on and the music dwindled down, and drunk college kids staggered their way out the doors into the streets, I notice a guy friend of mine I came with talking to this exact kid. My stomach sank. No way. No way they know each other. Sure enough, the kid looks right over to where I’m standing and we make eye contact. Yup, screwed. Since then the only occasions I’ve seen him at are ones where alcohol is involved and any attempt to see him has always been made by me contacting him first. I’ve heard from both him and his friends he is bad at answering text messages. But I am sadly a child born into a world of technological communication, so not answering texts is a big thing with me, silly as that may sound. And now I find myself in the same dumb situation. Liking someone who doesn’t seem to hold the same amount of interest. He knows it, his friends know it. I hate it.
I don’t like being told by my friends to move on, either. I don’t want to move on because why? I’m spoiled. I’m spoiled and I’m stupid. Because I always think I’m an exception. I think I’m the one that can change them and then maybe someday he’ll like me too. But I am not an exception, just because I want to be. And it hurts saying out loud that he doesn’t like me back- but that doesn’t make it any less true. Discouragement has definitely become a recurring factor in my life. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again- what’s the point? What is the freakin point of falling for people who are not going to fall for us back? Why are we even allowed to have emotions like this? It’s stupid, and hurtful, and a waste of time. And all I can keep saying to myself is that’s it part of some bigger picture or lesson I haven’t discovered yet. That maybe someday down the road all of this bullshit is going to make sense and I’m gonna look back on these times, and say Oh Okay… I get it now.
“Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up: if a boy punches you he likes you, never try to trim your own bangs, and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. every movie we see, every story we’re told implores us to wait for it: the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. but sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs. how to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. and maybe a happy ending doesn’t include a guy, maybe it’s you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. maybe the happy ending is just moving on. or maybe the happy ending is this: knowing after all the unreturned phone calls and broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment… you never gave up hope.”
- via Quills + Quotations
Charlie May could have easily been the seventh member of the Antwerp six, if she were born 20 years earlyer. She presented a collection with a Belgian aesthetic last night in a rooftop suit of a chiq Soho Hotel here in London. Her models were dressed in long black, white and burgundy garments that were simultaneously flowy and structured. My favorite look was this white on white one, a sharp shirt with stark white leather jacket and subtle golden details.
When I was right about to give up on taking pictures in the shady space, Sandra from 5inch and up came to the rescue; she lend me her fat lense and gave me a photography-in-the-dark lesson. Sandra and Charlie weren't the only bloggers attending, the place was filled with some of the creme de la creme; Shini, Jen and even Zana Bayne were all there.
jacket: borrowed from Avelon
copper eyeshadow: sephora no80
A quick quick update before I run off to fashion week. Yesterday I arrived in London, 6 hours later than planned after a nightmare at the airport. Extremely happy to finally be walking on the left side of the road, sitting in the crowded tube and seeing girls walk around in the cutest dresses with bare legs and open toes no matter how cold it is.
He's sitting here right next to me. So close, our shoulders are touching. And even though he's only a few inches away, listening to his iPod and humming, I miss him already.
Next year he won't be here. He'll be across the country, living his life. He tells me that I am his life, but I know I have to let him go. He has so much potential, so many talents. I know his name will be known by everyone someday. Yet he says he wants to stay. But I know that in only a couple of months, he'll be going off to his dream school and starting his career. And I'll be left here, because I still have so much left to do. Three more years of school before I can move on. I'll be here, wondering. What am I going to do without him? What do I do now?
I'm resting my head on his shoulder right now. And he's completely oblivious to everything going on around him. He says he loves only three things in life: music, track, and me. And when he listens to music he gets completely lost in it. I love that look he gets on his face when he gets so absorbed in it.
Next year I won't see it. I won't see his smile every morning. I won't be able to hold his hand every afternoon, or lay my head on his chest each night. And I won't be able to hear his beautiful voice sing those songs to me. Or see those perfect eyes stare into mine. Those are the small things that made my day. How will I live without them?
But only a few minutes ago, when he turned to me, looked deep into my eyes, and told me he loved me, I realized something. I still have him. If it is only for a few more months, weeks, days, hours, even minutes, I still have him here. Right next to me. And I will live each second like it is the last. Because I love him and I cannot keep thinking about the part where I lose him. That time hasn't come yet. I have to live in the present, and in the present, he is still mine. He is still here, and he is not going anywhere.
Each moment must be cherished. It must be filled up to the brim with loving words and hugs and kisses and everything. Anything. They must all be used up until they are completely over. I need to remember everything I do with him, because before I know it, he'll be gone. And all I will have are the memories. And I want to have good memories. Memories I can look back on and say "I'm so glad we had that. I'm so glad I knew him. I'm so glad we got to spend time together".
He is mine for now. He is mine now. He is mine, I still have him. And that is all that matters at this very second. That is all that will ever matter.
The only thing I've ever wished is to be happy. That's been my prayer. I figure it's the one thing you can't wish you hadn't wished later on, there is no consequence to asking God for it like asking for a specific job or in my case, a specific person. I thought I wanted to be with someone, wanted nothing more than for them to turn around and see me. But I didn't wish for them, never asked God for them even though I wanted to. I bargained, said that I knew I would be happy with them, blissfully so, but nothing was coming of it. No progression, no fulfilling of that fantasy.
And somewhere during this phase another boy snuck in, one who had been a friend for so long I had stopped noticing him. We helped a friend move in, then started watching downloaded TV shows together. Just friends, my favorite one of the group to cuddle with, but never thought he would be anything more. Until one night we got in a tickle fight, and that boundary got pushed farther.
So here I am writing that God, you were right- when I asked to be nothing more than totally and completely happy You didn't give me what I wanted. You gave me the boy of my dreams, my soulmate instead. The man that I laugh with, spend all my time with, who listens to the same music I do and will dance around the room with me. The guy who made cute animal noises back, even in front of friends. Who looked at my family, who I was, and didn't walk away. Who still looks at me when I'm not paying attention, opens his eyes when we're kissing to see my face. The one who tells digressive stories, will walk around for miles with me, whose voice on the phone at midnight is the most beautiful thing I can imagine. The one I can cook with, fall asleep with- never feel alone with. This beautiful person that I had never noticed, and yet had never failed to notice ever since I met him.
No, this relationship isn't what I expected, but it's what I got.
I love you like you'll never know.
Like 'love you' isn't enough to say it.
You are the answer to my prayers.
+DIY branch hanger
I imagine this suit belonging either to a little elevator boy or a petite, korean,chique grandma. I found it in the secondhand store of a posh village a few years ago. Flawless thick wool fabric, a double row of golden buttons(which I tore off) and the best part; it was just my size. Being barely 1.60m I rarely find anything that doesn't need to be shortened, cut or taken in. Specially suits in thrift stores are usually viking sized as oposed to this little thing.
Oh and have you already bought any heart shaped candy with 70% discount for your lover today?
This easy transformation of a clothing hanger into a hook is my first of a monthly DIY feature I'm doing on the best Dutch online magazine out there; NSMBL.nl .
(It is actually a redo of a DIY I did a year ago.) It is such a ridiculously easy way to create a new space to hang jewelry, clothes or hats that I don't really need to explain how to make one of your own, right?
Giuliano Bolivar always goes a step further than expected. For example customizing some secondhand clothes turns into a full fledged collection and asking him casually to do guest post on Love Aesthetics has resulted in an entire production instead of some snapshots.
No 1 WE START TO GET REAL! This is the kind of outfit I would wear everywhere; to the library, school, parties, art gallery openings, supermarket, park, and the list goes on. Probably not exactly paired with leopard print wooden clogs as seen deliciously on the picture and not for taste matters but more according to the weather. It's just so exciting to clash one thing over the other everytime; a leopard trucker cap, woolen blend sheer button up shirt, with woolen H&M MEN skirt from the 90's and dutch leopard printed wooden shoes.
No 2 "WE BELIEVE IN EVERYTHING THAT SHINES!" don't we?! I only forgot who I was quotating right here, my apologies. This started out by me just grabbing really nice accessories and paring them with smpler basics. BUT not getting too crazy. From head to toe: Versace cat head golden choker, cropped long-sleeve black t-shirt with random sporty golden print (which I purposedly cropped as well), high waist black polyester carrot-shaped trousers, thin golden studded belt not worn as a belt.
hoodie: the boyfriend's
angora knit: thrifted
clutch: Samira Boon
transparent cuffs: Do It Yourself
shoes: thrifted and DIY
lipstick: MAC nightmoth lipliner
hair on clutch/shoulderbag : courtesy of Shampalove
patent wallet: Comme des Garçons
Had to share a picture of the purses I use every day, they look so good together. I love all the black on black different textures; matte, patent and hair-on leather. I´ve had these two for less than a month, but they have already made it to my favorites list.
Photography Mirjam Tonnaer, hair & make-up Anita Bok, models Aline van Schoonhoven, Lyanne Tonk and styling by me
Those who like Love Aesthetics on Facebook have already seen some backstage shots of this. Last month at fashion tradeshow Mode fabriek I styled a live photoshoot in the Trash and Treasures area; a space where visitors of the fair could shop for vintage and items of small independant designers. I ran around all day looking for the treasures among the trash and styled a photoshoot which could be watched by all the visitors of Modefabriek. These are three images from the 'lookbook' we put together. And allthough it was fun to be a stylist for two days, I'd rather be a blogger and a reporter.
jeans: courtesy of THVM Atelier
My black jeans had a make over yesterday, they now look like they have been dipped in white concrete. I love the bursted and imperfect surface of the denim. They have become a delicate piece of clothing that will only get better with time. Flakes of paint will fall off on places where the fabric folds and a white wash will be left on the denim. Stains can be easily brushed off the dusty surface.
What you will need to make a pair of your own is some old jeans, a brush and acrylic paint. All you have to do is apply a thick layer of paint on the denim. After an hour or two your jeans should be dry and stiff. Now you can literally break them in. The paint will burst and the first half hour you´ll be losing a lot of paint flakes and dust. (A walk outside is recomended!) But after giving them a chance to shape to your body you can wear them without leaving a dust trail. I can't wait to incorporate these into a few outfits!
This could have gone so wrong, all the ingredients for a cheap disaster were there; Ann Sophie Back's autumn/winter collection featured transparent plastic bra straps, net fabric of the kind that stripper pantyhose are made of and bright turqoise trousers. But of course, as we are used to from Ann Sophie, the looks that she sent down the runway last week in Stockholm were utterly stylish. And the footwear in clear plastic(the material of my dreams) with the visible thick wool socks inside... yes, go ahead, save that picture to your computer.
shoes: 1990s Chanel
The Dutch are known for their sober attitude, no sillyness, no frillyness. When dressing, practicality always comes first. But what I've always disliked is the common thought that practicality and aesthetics don't mix. Like ignoring how ugly Uggs are because of their comfort. As if there aren't any comfortable shoes in the world that don't make your feet look 5 sizes bigger. As a protest against this practicality I stopped wearing jeans for years, looking back it was an unnecessary masochistic thing to do.
For a day in the city I wore something as decadent as a high slit floorlength skirt in the most casual of fabrics; heather grey jersey, sheer pantyhose with flat shoes, a leather backpack and some gold metal jewelry.