Armed with a handbag

By Neslihan

Today I woke up, watched the final 2 episodes of American Horror Story and realized that it's about time I pay a visit to my own blog instead of gushing about someone else's. My last exam was on the 19th of June and I have been watching series and creating collages eversince. My mind is being invaded by beautiful collections, accessories, movies and ART in short. Now I'm realizing that I have a big fat 2.5 month vacation ahead of me, I'm kind of panicking because I'm an enormous workaholic. I constantly want to be busy and see, learn, feel new things. I'm telling you, I've been making lists of movies I should watch and books I should read and topics I should blog about. I constantly have to feel pressure because my life kind of feels empty without it. I know this sounds crazy but I have been trying to slow down lately. That kind of explains my lack of lust for blogging lately. Everytime I started blogging I felt like the thing I was writing wasn't significant enough, so I stopped and have now stored 3-4 unfinished blogposts in my concepts draft. I'm so terribly sorry (I don't really mean it though) but it just didn't feel right. So I'm picking up the pieces once again (OMG why so D R A M A T I C) and reviving this self-proclaimed fashion blog.

First up: Versace Galore

It has actually been quite a while since I've posted anything that was 'catwalk material' but I guess I had lost my interest in that side of fashion until this Versace collection popped up and restored my faith in the fashion gods. I like how Donatella and her fashion brand are always balancing between vulgarity, bad taste, Italian quirkiness and craftsmanship. The Spring 2015 collection is cool as ice and sleek like a motherfucker. It drifts somewhere inbetween flawless manly silhouettes and elegant femininity. That remark comes from a stereotypical perception of masculinity and femininity of course but before I enter the debate on gender roles, I'd like to finish this vain attempt to a -what's called 'fashion review' in the fashionable mouths of the beau monde. I love how Donatella has created those unicolour outfits, which don't only look chiquer but also richer. As in richer colours, fabrics and postures. I like the beige and cold grey together (4th picture) and I adore how she paired up an outfit like this with freakin' sandals. It's as if she is showing us the new business man, who doesn't take himself that serious. Someone who's ready to pop in funky pinks, soft minimalistic blues and shiny beiges. He isn't afraid of wearing handbags and accentuating his waist. Wait, I think I'm creating this amazing utopia in which everyone creates her/his own (fashion) identity without being told that something looks too manly or girly for him/her.

If 'Scarface' were to have a 2014 remake and I were to be the stylist, I'd put every single actor in a summer '15 Versace outfit because 'Scarface' means power, luxury, refinement and bling and I'm afraid Versace has all of it to offer, including the handbags. I had enough of the stiff and macho definition of 'masculinity', enter loafers, chinos, shiny fabrics and flexible gender lingo.

Personal inarticulate scribblings

By Neslihan
I feel like all I wanna do is nag about how sick I feel and cough and sneeze inbetween. Accopmpanied by accessories such as hankerchiefs and a candybar. And all I actually think of is how much this all is stopping me from doing things I had planned to do. I feel down and wanna shout how miserbale I feel. So everybody will know and keep that in account when I'm being an unbearable toddler. This also teaches me to listen more to my body, not to overrush things. Cuz lately I've been feeling hunted, as if I'm out of time. I'm juggling school life, love life and friends all at once and I'm dropping at least one everytime I try to juggle three of them. And it feels aweful and incomplete and a little voice keeps on telling me I can't have it all at once but I'm an overachiever so I try to combine them anyway and at the end I'm left alone and forget to be on my own sometimes. This confuses me and loneliness that once felt pleasant, feels awkward and painful because I learned to rely on others, when I once only relied on myself. So the most obvious solution for my so-called problem would be to appreciate again to be on my own. To take myself on dates, to be my own best friend again. Question myself less when I'm doing things for others but to focus more on the things I want for MY OWN. I feel like ambition and love kind of make yourself focus less on your centre because or you're working on something on the long run (ambition) so the result will be there after 4 to 5 years (school) or you're working on your relationship with others (boyfriend/friends) and therefore can't be selfish. At the end I'm living in the future and forget how much fun the present actually is. Imagine when this is all over and all I did was stressing about papers and books and I don't even have a cool story to tell my grandkids? I know it sounds silly but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I feel lived instead of living. I feel like I've turned into a boring 30 y.o. when I promised myself to loosen up a bit more in uni. I think I've got to tell myself that I'm in charge and shouldn't stress about things I can alter cuz life is in our hands and you can throw it away in the trashbin next to your desk or you can take it in both your hands, fumble it up, juggle it and drop it to pick it right up again. I feel an uncontrolable desire to embrace failures, yet at the same time I'd like to succeed. And I think because I always was so ambitious and zealous I never quite learned to cope with failures and I'm really aware of that now. Cuz I think the power of actually succeeding lies in your ability to deal with mistakes and failures and incorporate these things in a personal learning process, which is hard to see at the moments you're failing cuz the purpose of your failures (teaching you something) comes after a time. And sometimes it never comes, sometimes it just says you're plain stupid and you have to move on.

This moodboard tells exactly how I feel: physically vulnerable, yet mentally fierce, sophisticated, yet bold, elegant, yet unsubtle, traditional, yet radically rebellious, sexy, yet repellent, arrogant, yet insecure, soft, yet shocking, passive, yet aggressive, quiet, yet powerful.

1) Ola Rudnicka photographed by Willy Vanderperre for AnOther S/S 2014
2) Backstage at Meadham Kirchhoff F/W 2014
3) Flickr/Woefromwit
4) Source unknown
5) 'Oedipus Rex' by Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1967
6) Source unknown
7) Source unknown
8) Photograph by Dario Catellani

Talking business

I love dualities, what can I say. I just love how 'un-black -and white' things are. At first you're like it's this but when you take a closer look at things you can be amazed by the nuances lurking behind fabrics, styles and colours. Women for decades have tried to dress in a way they could be taken seriously by their male colleagues. Professional YSL deux-piéces, black tight knee-length Dior pencil skirts, boring tweed Chanel blazers but I think it's time to turn the tables. Just because you're 'accidentally' a woman doesn't mean you should hide your femininity and playfulness. It's time to re-claim your sensuality and femininity without having to give in on looking professionally. Whenever I watch dull restyling programs, those Trinnies and Susannahs are always like "DoNT W3aR C011ouRS, U WNT PEEpL To T4K3 u SER1OuSlY" and all my neckhairs rise. What is wrong with colours and following your own style? What is wrong with unconventional materials at the office? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. And that's what (from left to right) Christopher Kane, Prabal Gurung, Versace and Mary Katrantzou are showing us. They're showing us that you can show some skin and still be the fucking boss. They make us aware of the fact that metalics are the new black. And that lilac leather split skirts are MADE to wear at the office, hence worn with a nice shirt. You don't wanna go trash queen on this one. And prints, my friend, are made to bedazzle your colleagues with its crowdedness.

To end this rather long blogpost.