Looking back/Looking forward

By Neslihan

Looking back:
I was 12 when I 'discovered' fashion magazines. It was pretty obvious, I had moved to the middle of nowhere and felt often alone. I didn't have a computer or internet back then and I had to find something to keep me busy with. My mum bought an 'economy pack' of 5 magazines and I stole the one on fashion. I remember its name vividly: Avantgarde. It sounded so promising, almost bigger than life. That moment was really magical, I turned the pages and almost felt this surreal tingle in my brain. The luxury, the drama, the creativeness: this was a way of living too. I read about brands like Chanel and Viktor & Rolf and collected everything there was to collect on their name. I had become a fashion junky. Later, I'd go to my aunt's house and watch full length runway shows on the internetz and even blog about it on social network sites. I felt as if I was part of this world. My contribution was and still is so very small but I liked my place in fashion jungle. I was the biggest fashion lover but also its biggest critic. I literally idolized Karl Lagerfeld and Carine Roitfeld. And my heart also broke in a billion tiny pieces when she left Vogue Paris, which had then become my fashion manual.

This period is marked by staples of Vogue Paris issues. I'd buy it monthly and always looked forward to their amazing covers. I loved Roitfeld's sexy, luxurious Parisian style but also the more edgy and rock & roll vibes Emmanuelle Alt was sending me once she replaced Roitfeld. I would spend 25 % of my pocket money on fashion magazines, the other 75 % would go to clothes/ accessories. I couldn't care less about meeting friends and going to the movies. I'd rather be alone in my room and create fashion articles. That truly made me happy and I felt as if I was gaining knowledge. As I grew in fashion facts, I felt an amazing urge to share it with other people. I was hyper cocky and wanted to educate people. But now, as I look back on it, I realize I didn't want to educate anyone. I just desperately needed to connect with anything. I think I wanted to belong and be good at something, so I chose fashion. But somehing had changed along the way. Anywayz I had.

As I tried to keep up with the industry's pace, I realized this was not what I wanted. I didn't want to have an opinion on every fashion brand. I didn't want to blog about the ones I didn't find significant. I didn't want to spread negativity because I knew every designer put his heart and soul in his collection. I knew they worked 24/7, season after season and figured I didn't want to reflect my disappointments onto them. Taste is so personal and culturally but aslo socially determined. Who are we to criticize anything at all? That's when I started to criticize 'the industry' instead of the collections. There was heart in the clothes but there was envy and filth in the industry. Back then I loved Lagerfeld's aesthetics but hated his body-hating self. And that was not all. I hated the underrepresentation of coloured models, sexualizing children, 21st century imperialism/superiority (scroll to "It's all about refinement..." and feel your toes cringe) and lack of realism. The industry is all about unachievable beauty ideals. I figured I didn't wanna feel un-whole or mediocre just because I wasn't fit to be a girl next door. I searched for my own voice and discovered feminist bloggers like Celia, Annabeth and Laci and blogs like RookieMag. I realized I didn't have to spend a fortune on magazines to be part of this world. I could just start a blog and freely share my thoughts. That's when things began to feel comfortable again. I blogged about more personal topics like sexuality and body image. I think at a certain moment the curtain falls and all you have is yourself and then it becomes very important you can relate to something/someone. That curtain falls daily, it's when the glamour/pretending stops and you comfort yourself in joggingpants and a box of chocolates. That's what I wanted my blog to be: a safe haven for every single soul in doubt because doubt can be very creative. (This sounds so christian, omg.)

So, here I am, still blogging, still overthinking things. As fashion constantly evolves and my taste changes during the years, I'm still searching for my own voice. I'm still learning and hope to be more accurate one day. Everything has changed, even 'Avantgarde' has stopped (read: it's Dutch) but my strong wish to share is still burning fiercely. And I'm here as long as it burns.

Looking forward:
Every once in awhile I still buy magazines. Yesterday I was down that lane again and spent 14 fucking euros on 'Elle Collections A/W 2014'. I always wanted to have an 'Elle Collections'. I know you can find the same information for free on the internet but it's not the same. A magazine is there forever and it feels different because you can actually turn the pages and feel the texture of the paper. On the internet you have to collect the pictures on your own but when you buy a magazine it's already done for you. Not to mention the fabuous layout. It just reminded me of my blog. And since it rains more often now and we're saying goodbye to tropical temperatures, I can finally find peace in sharing some of my favourite items of the past autumn/winter collections.

1) PRADA:

All I can say is: I want all four of the coats. I feel like a fine coat sets a statement. Some are long, others are short. Some ar made of wool, others of leather and some others are made of fur but they all tell a story. That story can be laid back, classy, vampy or sporty. It's a mood, it's a uniform. Autumn starts with a quest for the perfect coat. One that suits your personality. I love the coats with the big pockets. They remind me of the coats I used to draw when I was a kid. Big ass pockets for big ass junk. And if I were to be a diva I'd certainly go for the long red goat hair coat. It just screams Miranda Priestly.

2) DRIES VAN NOTEN:

I love how you recognize Van Noten's trademark. You see it because of the prints, because of the male-female balance, because of the fits. A Van Noten has a (hi)story to tell. It's intellectual and quirky and -eventhough you might doubt it- it's above all timeless. The corsages and bold prints of exotic flowers are inbetween pretty and kitschie but it works so well when you look at the collection as a total. There are metallics, stripes, geometric illusion and dazzling glitter. If someone else did it, it would be tacky but Van Noten knows how to keep it wearable.

3) CHRISTOPHER KANE:

There a few designers I still follow season after season and Kane is one of them. I just feel like our aesthetics click. He's so brilliant, funny and just smart. With Kane you know a collection will be totally different than the one he did before. It feels like he's up to anything but one thing always remains: he's witty as hell. This collection sometimes feels like I'm watching a sculpture exhibition as Kane wants to mold his clothing in certain forms. It's excentric, yet it looks so comfortable for every day wear and I think that's Kane's strength.

4) CHRISTIAN DIOR:

So there was this huuuge criticism when Raf Simons took over Dior. He was too minimalist, too simple, too everyday to be the artistic director of one of the world's leading fashion brands, Dior. He had to prove himself during that first collection and so he did. Now the world has accepted he's fit for the job and looking at his last rtw-collection, I still agree. He knows how to keep the brand young and luxurious but also how to stay true to his own minimalist style. I just love the popping colours. Also in looove with the colourful cords on the waists (3rd picture), what a divine detail.

5) PAUL SMITH:

If I had the money, I'd probably wear nothing else but Paul Smith (and some occasional Van Noten) but I don't so I stay true to highstreet coppies. I love his paistly X baroque prints so much. I just feel like this was the only collection that was strong as a whole. Every piece is interchangeable and it feels as if everything fits with everything. Sir Paul Smith makes my boyish heart pound faster and stab my eyes out from sadness (cuz I'm a peasant).


PS. not sorry for the length of this blogpost since I felt like I had to make up for the lack of posting lately

Prioritize/Awkward jeans

By Neslihan

You'd think that now that I actually have the time, I'd blog my brains out but I actually did not. It's not that I didn't feel inspired the past month but let's say I couldn't prioritize. It felt as if every topic was as important as the other and I didn't know where to start. Let's say I felt a bit overwhelmed because of the freedom. I couldn't decide whether I should continue watching my series, catch up with friends, be melancholic or blog. But I've done quite a lot of other things lately. I visited 3 museums and vacation has just started.
First I went to see the '50 Years of Migration' exhibition in Antwerp's City Museum. It tells the story of the first Turkish/Moroccan/Italian/Jewish guest workers and how they changed the streetscape with their little cosy restaurants and picturesque shops. And since I'm Turkish myself, I loved it. I felt as if it was a lost part of my personal history. I must say though that the exhibition in Ghent at the MIAT was bigger and much more thorough. So, the amount of objects was kind of a let down but we (my boyfriend and I) visited the permanent exhibition on religion, power display and the death, which was amazing too.
The second museum I payed a visit to was Ghent's City Museum. I visited the permanent exhibition, which was unexpectedly cool. There were like a bunch of objects that they had found in Ghent and its surroundings. Amongst the things that were found, there were those really old books with the city's privileges and they were so old that if you'd pick them up, they'll fall into pieces. Isn't that impressive? You're literally standing before something that has been there for atleast 5 centuries. I like me some history, what can I say?
 The last exhibition I saw was one on Feminism X Art at BOZAR (Woman. The Feminist Avant-Garde of the 1970's.) I thought this exhibition was going to be about a bunch of women opposing the artscene of 1970 that was mostly dominated by men, something like the Guerilla Girls did in the 80's but it was a lot more artsy and in your face but in a different way. It was about artists claiming their place and making feminine nudity more than sexy and biological. I'm still bummed that I didn't take a notebook and pen with me to write the names of the works that thrilled me since there was a bunch but there is one artist I vividly remember: Eleanor Antin (what a beautiful name). She had this video in which she made up her face and it literally  takes half an hour before she concludes that what she's doing is what society is asking her to do. She symbolically liberates herself by taking off her bra -which is a HUGE feminist cliché- but to me it was very significant. It really impressed me to see how dedicated she put on all the make up and looked at her face in a satisfied way, yet wasn't satisfied because this maybe wasn't what she wanted.

Watch another video on the same topic by 'Girls' star Jemima Kirke:

A W K W A R D   J E A N S

Meet my newest obsession: the mom jeans! I call them awkward since they really feel awkward looking at it. They're tight around the ass, awkwardly high-waisted (that crotch yo), loose around the lower legs and comfier than your regular jogging pants. I like mine in a slightly lighter denim colour like the first lady on the left but don't combine them in an 80's way. Vintage is good but you have to temper if you don't wanna look like a 80's housewive/soccer mom. You wanna have that casual Lady Di vibe but you don't wanna actually be her. See? Big difference. I combine mine with white shirts, quirky tees, crop tops, bodycon sleeved tees etc. I wear 'em with sneakers, clogs and sandals. It's just such a varsatile piece, so it's a really great investment. I bought mine at Bershka but they have 'em in American Apparel and Topshop as well. Make sure you check out their webshop. Forever 21 might surprize you too.

Here, a couple outfits that might inspire you to buy your very own pair of awkward jeans:

Lady Di spokesperson of the mom jeans

Miley, the grunge kid

Anna Hathaway channeling her inner biker chick on a lazy Sunday

Matching basics at Topshop

Lena Dunham, an unorthodox cover girl being tamed

By Neslihan

PROs
Lena Dunham for Vogue

The polka dot Burberry shirt

This video

CONs

source

source

source

source

After this short intro I can finally cut to the chase. When the news of Lena Dunham being February's Vogue cover star hit the non-existing Anarchy of Roses HQs I was gasping for breath. Not only do I identify myself with Lena's vanity, humour and genius but I also love how unorthodox and daring she is. Let me further express myself: she is the mastermind behind 'Girls', a non-compromising tv series following the daily struggles of 4 twenty-something girls in Brooklyn- New York. And these are exactly the things I like about the series but I'm not an objective criterion either since I'm literally gushing about it on a daily basis. But let me put it this way: if you're looking for a series that shows you awkward, uncomfortable, non-airbrushed, fictionalized reality than 'Girls' is definitely what you're looking for. I'm talking about break-ups, unflattering nudity, nervous breakdowns and the occasional moments of enlightenment. It's not typical American feelgood and life certainly doesn't have a lesson on the end of each episode. The series is about failing incessantly and trying to get back up afterwards and I think that's what we need. We don't need glamorized Hollywood productions telling us how we should live our lives or dress ourselves. The series has such a basic content, yet it's so powerful since a lot of people can identify themselves with the characters. And I think there's where this series' strength lies. It's not about perfect representations or escapism, it's about being subtly caressed by reality, showing us we're not the only ones struggling.
I wasn't expecting the same amount of reality from Vogue. We're talking about the fashion bible which is being set as an example for millions and millions of women. It's a copy paste thing. It's in because it's in Vogue and not the other way around. They make tomorrow's icons, so they still have that original authority thing going on, as one of the very few magazines. But I kind of lost that admiration for Vogue. I actually always freaked about their covers and editorials but the thing is the more I got engaged with fashion and fashion magazines, the less I could relate to the editorials and the fashion portrayed in it. It felt too literally, too forced, too unreal to get in touch with. The perfection combined with the excessive airbrushing made me look out for something more real (read blogs and magazines with personality). Ofcourse I do not think Vogue is the only magazine that actually airbrushes its models but IT IS SO GOD DAMN OBVIOUS WHEN THEY DO IT. I guess I'm ready for something new. More edgy perhaps, something that will inpsire me to explore my own identity instead of adopting the one 'the industry' creates. To put it dramatically: I H4V3 L1B3ER4T3D MYS3LF.
Ofcourse I think it's a pity that Anna Wintour and her acolytes didn't grab this opportunity to get rid of their infamous and not so body-friendly reputation, which is their and so many other women's loss. You just cannot underestimate the impact they have on the female population since they're a platform for women starting from the age of 16 to 77. Like why are there no tasteful nudes of Lena in Vogue? This is what she does, she stands for body positivity, why not accentuate that? Why is the cover so safe? And why does it show so many similarities with ID's Wise Up issue? I also feel like if Lena can't change the mentalities, who will ever be able to do so? It's just a never ending debate and I think it's bullshit. Denying the existence of other body types won't make them suddenly disappear and I think they deserve a bit of attention since they're also amongst the buyers and since they monthly invest in this magazine's growth. Wouldn't you think so, Anna?

Despite the criticism I think the pictures turned out really well. And can I get an AMEN for Adam Driver please? I'm also in love with the setting, oh Brooklyn, my heart's pounding for you.

This picture has actually nothing to do with the whole Vogue story but I had to share this one. How amazing does she look in that darling red dress?

B0dY H41R

By Neslihan 

Can we please talk about the girls with the frizzy hair and the little tummies. The ones with red spots on their face and the little pimples on their chin. Can we please stop acting like they don't excist. Hey media, hey advertisement, yes, you're the guilty ones. Hello girls, who impose themselves impossible beauty ideals, while in fact embracing your own pure natual self would've been a whole lot easier and healthier even. I know, I know, it's a quite corny, yet necessary subject and saying things is of course easier than doing them because we're talking about decades of imprinting and dogmata. It is not easy, I know. It is not easy to reject the ideal media are actually presenting you because it somehow is easier to accept that that is right and to hate on yourself in the meantime. If you could just be realistic and finally understand that those picture perfect girls and boys are total fiction. Photoshop aint a recent invention but that's something I shouldn't tell you 'cause you've heard it all before. So let me actually start talking about the ACTUAL subject of this post. I WANT TO TALK ABOUT BODY HAIR. Well, I think that was clear...
I'm a girl with black thick hair and I am proud of my heritage. It is my proud, my priority. And yes, this is vain and superficial but we all are. And that was an 'argumentum ad populum'. Suck on that, philosophy! My eyebrows are full and thick and really obvious and those are the times when I actually embrace my DNA. But then come the days on which the little hairs on my upper lip get visible, I call them my 'whiskers' and will from now on refer to them as my whiskers in this blogpost. And those are the days I totallay loathe my DNA. On those days I just wished I had da blond DNA, you know, for the easiness of it, hell yes. But no, I wouldn't wanna miss the fabulous portion Indian hair, so we'll have to deal with the body hair.
Removing it is an option and it often is the only option and if it's not then it still is. I mean just think of the pictures on which Julia Roberts flawlessly sports her armpits and gets shamed for it. It instantly became a gimmick. Or think of Gwyneth Paltrow talking about her body hair, it caused a fucking shock in 2013. We act like we're liberal and really open-minded but we can't even tolerate a dash of fluff on some body parts, even if they are not ours. We just refuse to see it in public because it's 'provoactive' and a bald puss isn't? I just don't understand why this creates such a huge debate. I was always told to do whatever I liked with my body. It was mine and I was the boss and I don't even know why I'm using the past tense. I AM THE FUCKING BOSS. I'll grow my leg hair if I want to and it is none of your icky picky business. And if you ask me why I have a 'black carpet' on my legs, I'll ask you just the same, Mister. "Well -haha- 'cause I am a man, you see."
- And I am a mammal if you'll let me.

Because Kristen McMenamy is always flawless.

A manual for former losers

By Neslihan

She is your best friend. A true style icon. Perfection at its best, even with its flaws -how cliché this might sound. Her presence, her elegance truly have this impact on the crowd. Just standing in her aura makes you a better person. She's this glorified human being and you're a nobody. She's Regina George, you're Cady Heron. She's Pipi Langkous, you're Annika. She's Beyonce, you're  Michelle.

Thought this was funny and completely irrelevant at the same time.

We all have been through this, whether it was as a Beyonce or a Michelle. It doesn't often feel like someone (in this case Beyonce) is standing in your spotlight. This kind of friendships become something that can be best described as a c-r-u-s-h. It's not purely romantic, there is something platonic about it. The way she dresses or makes herself noted just always leave you in disbelief. How does she do it? Oh mighty queen, reveal your secret. Well, here comes the break-through, SHE HAS NO. Or maybe one -buckle your seatbelts for the biggest cliché in the world- confidence. It's predictible yet obvious. Your mind is connected to your fabulous body and the other way around. It's simple: you feel bad, you look bad. It's perfectly balanced interaction or it usually is.
First step: break your chains. I'm not talking about actual chains but I'm talking about leaving your 'Oh-you-almighty-goddes-cult'. As soon as you realize that she's just a human being who doesn't poop shiny rainbows, you'll see how ridiculous it actually was to be all over her shit (poop joke n°2, u guyz!). I think worshipping someone else than yourself or Florence Welch is a complete and tremendous waste of time. It's like someone else taking selfies with your phone. Hey loser, I don't want any other pictures than my own ones!!! You've got to fill up that vacuum with a lot of narcissism, almost acceptable cockiness.
Second step: wear what you want to wear. Don't be like: "Omg X has worn this already." Be like: "It would fit me better." Try things you've never dared trying before because it was taboo or an inaccessible area. Do wear pink on Fridays or jeans on Mondays and Tuesdays because you are making your own rules. Here comes the 'be your own Regina George' bullshit. Be fearless, be a kind bitch, which basically means your being radically quirky but nice to other people at the same time. Okay, yes kindness doesn't save the world, but nor does your sass.
Third step: another 'Cover Girl' motto- be true to who you are. Don't wear metalic trousers if you hate shine and shimmer. Don't dye your hair blond if you've always mocked blondes. Just don't turn into a completely other person. Because that's called schizophrenia and will be dealt with in another post.
Thanks for your reading.
And good luck, loser!

Jean Luc Godard
(This is the ideology)

Devon Aoki for Numéro

Source unknown, found on tumblr

Léa Seydoux for ID

Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction

Superbia

By Neslihan
I never got why vanity or pride was a sin. I mean what's better than a great dose of self-loving or should I say self-glorification. And vanity was never as accurate as in our digital age. Facebook, Blogger, Instagram, Vine, Tumblr: it's all about justifying your extreme pride. Hey, look at me! Look at what I'm doing! Look at what I wear! Like me, hype me, love me! It has never been more present than this.

I remember growing up having rolemodels. I worshipped The Spice Girls and Jennifer Lopez must have been my style icon at the age of 6. I wanted to dress, walk and talk like her. I would buy a bunch of teen magazines and try to copy her style and 'If you had my love' was on repeat. I would lipsing to it as I'd flawlessly whip my hair back and forth. Those were the carefree days. I couldn't care less what my outfit looked like. I would be dressed in red from head to toe and I stood behind my decisions because I was confident about my colour comboes. I didn't care less about other's opinions and in some strange kind of way I still don't but something has changed along the road.

I'm still rocking my ugly shoe philosophy but I've given up looking like a colouring book. And whenever I do, I try to be the fashionable counterpart of it. To me dressing up is not about being on trend (but I find myself being a trendwhore more often) but about being true to yourself. I'd never wear something that doesn't follow my aesthetics. But somehow I've lost my rolemodels and I've become my own icon. I don't know whether that is sad or pathetic but I'm quite enjoying it. I used to be the rules kind of girl, you know the Trinny and Susannah kind of rules. 'What not to wear' but I've gradually let go of that theory since I believe you can even rock a sack of potatoes as long as you're wearing the right kind of shoes. And since I've let go of those stupid rules I feel freer.

It's about creativity and an authentic style because there's only one you. And who motivates you better than yourself? YOU know what you want to look like. YOU know where this is all going. That's why YOU are your ultimate manager. You've got to hype yourself, believe the image and expand your horizons (your closet in this case). Because that's what's fun about dressing up: it is temporary and you can shift styles like that. You don't have to stick to one kind of uniform. Keep all your options open and don't limit yourself because to limit is to kill your creativity.

There must be a way to praise yourself though because you want to show you're confident and unique. And that's when all those profiles on social networks jump in. Instagram or should I say Selfiegram is all about promoting your life. Food pictures, OOTDs, pictures of your friends and you partying. Look at the fabulous life I'm living! Doesn't this also sounds really Kanye'esque to you?
You have become your own Scary Spice or Jennifer Lopez. Whenever I feel uninspired for example I turn to my blog and I know that sounds vain but that's how I relive the inspiration. It feels as if I sometimes need to remind myself of my fashion believes, which changes monthly. And I think that's good because that's how you become more critical. I'm not a rooted tree, I am a feather in the breeze, who's being pushed into all kinds of directions and I let that breeze lead me. I trust it because I know the journey is all that counts at the end. I don't travel through this fashion spectrum in order to reach my destination. I travel for the journey.

All pictures found on tumblr.

PROJECT: concon + dressing down

By Neslihan
I'm starting with a 'new' project that can be summarized by a stupid abbreviation: 'concon'. It stands for 'CONsume CONsciously' and it's not gonna be about me 'presenting an example' or being a rolemodel but it's an attempt in what I would see as consuming consciously. I just want to be more aware of what I'm eating but above all of wat I'm wearing. I've been a vegetarian over a year now. Not a strict one but I wasn't a firm meat-eater (sounds like a pokemon or something) either. It got me thinking about the origins of meat, about the production process actually. It got me so mad to actually know how our fine piece of steak was being produced. How animal- and people-unworthy. I was really frustrated and figured I couldn't be anymore ignorant about this. So I decided to become a flexible vegetarian (or flexitarian BUT GOSH, HATE THAT WORD). Right now I'm at a point of no return. I want to know why my tee only costs 6.95 at H&M? How do they make their clothing so accessible when it comes to the price tag? Could it be that they're also keeping their production costs low by using child labour and disgusting Indian workplaces, which also lack hygene? I'm sure I'm not telling you anything new, I mean you've read countless articles and you probably also have seen a lot of documentaries on this subject. So why do we keep our eyes closed for this problem? Probably because it's easier and cheaper. But I think we owe it to ourselves to know where our clothing comes from and in which circumstances it's being produced. We have to know what the moral price is of budget fashion. And that's what I'm going to do for the upcoming months. I'm not saying I'm going to quit high street shoppig because I can't due to 'financial instability' (I'M A STUDENT, YOU KNOW) but I will think twice before I start impulse shopping. Do I need this? Is the price worth the quality? Do I have something similar already? So, I'm not gonna go extreme on this one. I just want to be more aware of the product of misery I'm buying. And I will monthly report about this.
Another topic that joints this topic effortlessly is a new way of dressing called 'dressing down' (it's actually a counterpart to dressing up). I read about it in Elle Hollands september issue. And it basically comes down to this: you wear a lot of basics and plain colours. The fabrics have to be floaty and the cut has to be seemlessly perfect but simple. You can actually see it as a sequel to 90's minimalism but less firm than minimalism because there is actually room for fooling around. But not too much fooling around since you don't want to look crafted. It's about being pure and getting dressed for the sake of getting dressed. And with my new 'project' (sounds so cool but it's actually something individual) coming up, I might just as well embrace that philosophy.

 This 90's couple got the concept of dressing down. Winona Ryder chose for a simple black dress with a very basic cut and Johnny went for a suit and an unbuttoned white shirt. Also notice how Winona kept her hair very simple.

90's Kate Moss is another example of dressing down. See how she also has skipped a bra.

Marques Almeida S/S 2013

Narciso Rodriguez S/S 2011

Prada S/S 2001

Liu Wen

Lauren Marshall

trag·e·dy 

[traj-i-dee]  

 

   

noun, plural trag·e·dies

Have you ever asked yourself what life would be like without the unexpected drama along our road? Neither did I but admit it, it would be a hell of a boring life. And I'm sorry if you're encounting drama at this very own moment but this is the plain truth. You've got to go through a pile of shit first to appreciate your layer of dust. And that's what they call a tragedy. Someone who has it all but one single default holds back our hero/heroine to be. All those qualities to be the greatest but this -almost deified- person chooses to go his own way. And that's what I like about Greek tragedies: all those heroes who sin when they actually try to avoid to anger the gods. It's human nature I guess, to do whatever the fuck you want to do. And it might look illogical and stupid but at that moment, at that place it is the most natural thing to do. People in our modern times have kind of created this 'I am the creator of my own destiny' kind of philosophy. And I absolutely encourage that even though it makes it harder to point fingers at someone else afterwards because all responsibility rests on your own shoulders. And at times it makes it really difficult to accept your own tragedy and those are serious life lessons. I'm not going to preach though because this was initially meant as an easy post. And besides that, what do I know about 'Life', right? I'm only 19 summers young and unexperienced and at the edge of making the biggest mistakes of my life. 

I guess what I've really asked myself was: "What if everyone was happy, where would we all stand now?" I guess if there weren't any troubled artists like Bukowski, Hemmingway, Kahlo, Arbus, Winehouse etc. there also wouldn't be books, paintings, pictures or songs full of agony and darkness. That's why I too have concluded that happy people don't write or draw or dig deeper into their own souls to shamelessly expose themselves. Happiness is safety and I guess those are not the kind of books we want to read. We want heartbreaking tragedies that cut in our flesh and leave us restless. The stories that don't leave us that easily. Some things do leave a mark for life and this shapes you or even molds you into the person you become. The greater choice does lie in your hands but some things are uncontrolable, whether we like it or not. Call it Destiny, Karma or God, I believe something is out there, as strongly as I believe that I am the Creator of my own destiny.

Yours sincerely,

Neslihan

Collage info:

1) Creepy figure by Maria Rubinke

2) Dita von Teese in Christian Lacroix (BURY ME IN THIS PLEEZ. OR BURY ME IN COMME DES GARCONS. THANQ.)

3) Amazing dress found on tumblr, source unknown

4) Have a glamourous suicide, found on tumblr, source unknown

5) "The Waqwaq tree has fruit in the form of human figures"

6) "Oh Lucifer, please take my hand", found on tumblr, source unknown

7) A still from 'Pulp Fiction', Uma Thurman, (GORGEOUS 90'S BABE)

8) "I am the designer of my own catastrophy", light art, found on tumblr, source unknown

9) Virgin Mary and sweet baby Jesus, faceless, found on tumblr, source unknown

10) Crushin a strawberry, Olivia Locher - Another Day on Earth 

Some girls, some shoes

Heya,
I'm seriously balancing between 'omg, I got a genius subject to blog about' and 'nah, mojo too low, bish'. I've been working my ass off the last couple of weeks. I'm not complaining though because the cash is more than welcome since my wish list got a tatsy longer. I start at six AM and I leave my work at three PM, amazed by another heat wave that meets me outside. I am not kidding you, I'm gobsmacked when I'm welcomed by the tropical temperatures when leaving my work place. You can't have a good hairday when it 30 degrees cuz I got really, really thick black hair and it attracts the sun like crazy. Natural result? I sweat my ass off and keep my hair in a sloppy bun/braid. I have given up satin like fabrics and embraced cotton, cotton, cotton! I've invested in a hell of basics lately cuz I can't handle synthetic, no sweat-absorbing fabrics right now. But enough about me, for now at least. 'Gotta wake up this fashion cemetry' PART 256304. I'm just not the regular blogger and you are not the regular visitor. But it's okay, we get along just fine.
Here a collage to represent my current mood. I begin to feel like teenager years are the golden years lately because it's an inbetweener thing. You're not completely mature but you're definitely not a child anymore. It's about becoming a lady without deserting your inner rebel. That's also what your outfit is sporting but you don't mind cuz it feels natural as you combine your ripped 90's jeans with your crispy white shirt. You don't forget to put on your favourite nike trainers and kick the day like you did back in high school. It's all about mixing and matching, there are no rules and the boundaries between ages are becoming vaguer each season and that's just something to like cuz dressing up like a 18 year old aint a shame no more when you're 28. And the other way around is possible aswell.
Sunset has turned me in a true melancholic and I don't mind because I feel like daydreaming and painting hearts on my chest as I run through Vogue Paris and sip a little of my café frappé. It's all about feeling like an adult when you put on those high heels and feeling like a teen when you have to cook your own meal. "Hey, I'm tired! Mom? Anyone?" Since I live on my own, I'm left to my own destiny (read: non-existing cooking skills) and I've been living on pasta pesto and salmon for the first couple of months but I literally started to sweat pesto and got sick of it. So now I'm trying to survive on american cookies as I'm checking out new and easy recipes. And it feels like life has only started, which is bullocks of course but hey, you do get the point. So I too am balancing between being an understanding adult and a quirky (is it even okay to say that about yourself? cares) 19-year old.

And those girls have that kind of vibe. They look innocent yet naughty, pretty yet unsophisticated, girly but not yet womanly. And that's what I like. They represent that careless feel and they look really confident while doing so. So why does everyone keep on saying that teen gurlz dont luk confident, omg? Tavi sure is the C in 'confident'. Look at that sassy look, as if she could handle the world. And I just love Léa Seydoux's hair (right above). Dye your hair in rainbow shades while you still can. This girl rocks all colours ---> INSPO! 

And what's better than a pair of shoes to feed your unsatisfiable teen soul? Feed your lust at Dr. Martens dot com. Those babies are on sale and I just love 'em. They're summery, flowery and very girly yet they're kick ass Martens, what else does a teen girl desire? 

The first two pair are only £45!!! The last pair is even cheaper: £40!

Thanks for reading my rambling post and enjoy your pretty evening.

Neslihan

About pubic hair and artificial sex

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2 is for Greed

By Neslihan

Once upon a chaotic time, in a capitalistic kingdom far away there lived this narcistic girl with tons and tons of selfish and greedy aspirations. Her selfishness was absolutely loathsome and her desires were unsatisfiable. She wanted everything, everything she layed her eyes upon had to be hers. And this was certainly the case when it came to clothing. Oh countless unsatisfied fantasies, where are you? Her greed was a sly as her personality. It was omnipresent but she repressed it. She had to. One day she would own her own Chanel 2.55 and her very own Paul Smith brogues. But until that day she had to settle with High Street made in China rip offs. And she was doing just fine until a very peculiar thing accured yesterday. It evoked her desires all over again and at once she knew what she was capable of. This is what happened: it was one PM and she entered her humble palace. As she went upstairs she saw a note on her desk. And black shorts. The note was from her old, very old roommate. It said: "You can keep the shorts if they fit." And yours sincerely knew immediately that those were the shorts she saw hanging in the bathroom. The Chanel shorts!!! A heavy thrill invaded her body and she began to sweat. Oh sweet Lord Jesus, was this real? "Pinch me!" she said. "Pinch me real hard! Wake me up from this false dream." But yes, this moment was real, but an unexpected destiny was still waiting to strike.

(Don't mind the freaky hand pose)

She decided to fit the shorts because the impatience made her shake all over her body. She wore them and was about to zip up her shorts, which went quite well but the majestic buttons caused some trouble. Or was it her post-winter tummy bleus? She could cry her eyes out. And a rage took control over her body. There were two ways: keep the shorts or... No, there was only one way, whether the shorts fitted or not. Keeping is the only way. And maybe one day, when she had three children, a fulltime job and a demanding husband, she'd be so stressed that she wouldn't find the time to eat. "One day they'll fit", she concluded. Fucking Parisian 38!