#Vivienne Westwood coutoure

[voguesplum]

Vivienne Westwood, bridal 2022

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Coutoure collection

[uniquewastelandmiracle-blog]

   03/07/17 2:50 AM

 I can’t even read my last post. I know I said some things out of anger and sadness. I know it’s embarrassing. But I can’t get myself to delete it. There’s several things I want to talk about right now. One is my loneliness. I’ve realized that I hate being alone. I hate it that the two friends I did make, went back to Stalingrad, Russia and Nice, France. I hate that I have no one to go get food with, no one to go the beach with, watch movies, go bowling, or no one to relate to or talk to. It sucks. But I’ve realized that it still beats every encountering the turds I used to call my best friends. You know, the ones that voted for Donald the degenerate, the ones who slut shame and made me think it was okay to do so, the ones who are self-fish and take advantage of others. Yes, I’m glad you’re all out of my life for good. And by all, I think I can only think of two right now that really hit the mark. But still. So, there is something truthfully positive to note. I’d much rather be eating Avocado toast at the cheesecake factory with my grandmother and my mother at 21, despite how socially silly it may look, than must communicate with the snakes I once called ‘best friend’.

               I think I will choose either fashion designing or music as my career. But which one do I like the most? Which one am I more passionate about? Two professors of mine said that I light up when speaking about fashion. Two others were impressed with my musical ‘ability’. That’s a tie that won’t be relevant in the upcoming years.

Music:

I think I loved it since the moment I landed on American soil. When I was listening to it, no one else in my age group was. I’ve been religiously listening to it since I was eight years old. I remember music being my favorite class in school in Chicago. I remember feeling like I stood out, even when the class wasn’t about singing. I remember whatever I learned in that class just stuck with me for some reason, more than any other subject’s information ever did. I remember being so curious about how albums were created, innocently yet ignorantly thinking that the singer wrote all their music and produced their instrumental as well. I remember wishing I had the blessing to create my own music videos, perform on stage in front of a crow that is anticipating to see me be me, and dance my ass off in the name of music. I remember writing my first songs and poems at 9 and sadly also cutting myself for the first time at that age. I remember going through honorific titles of musicians and wondering what title I’d have, if I ever had one. I remember being so in awe of music and wanting to be awe with myself just as much. Music always took away some of the loneliness away from me. There’s an artist, with a shitload of money and power out there that feels the exact same way about a topic that I do? No way. The connection of singer-songwriters to their fans with their music despite the differences was beautiful. I wish I could create that. Musicians are the luckiest people in the world. Expressing yourself for a living. I’m talking about real musicians of course. Not people with fake images that are trying to sell a concept to a certain demographic. But just being you forever and never once having the worry about the formalities of life? And being paid for it? Amazing. I’m honestly jealous of every single one of you. I need music. You hear that music? I need you.

Fashion:

I love it yet I hate it. The bittersweet won’t last long though. I’m sick of seeing people commit crimes in the name of luxury fashion. There is nothing luxurious about skinning forty innocent live rabbits to make a fur coat, especially when it costs more to make a faux fur one with polyester, cotton, and nylon thread. If it costs more and requires more craftsmanship to make a faux fur one, doesn’t that make IT the more luxurious one? Is that what luxury is? Having something that costs a lot of time and artistry and is built to perfection? Oh, but it doesn’t stop at poor animals being murdered. No, now we have models, a good chunk which are just socialites who’ve never worked a day in their life that now feel like they’re doing the lord’s work by walking twenty feet this way and twenty feet that way. Now let’s parade in dead animals! Yes that’s just so haute and totally normal. Let’s sell dead versions of animals we murdered for profit and convince little girls they’d be so cool if they could afford out over priced dead animals. It doesn’t stop at fur. There’s leather, and there’s feathers, and there’s make up that slowly mutates bunnies, and there’s suede, cashmere, silk, wool, bone chine, etc. I hate western fashion for this and I wish I didn’t. But all you designers out there, perhaps except for Betsey Johnson, Vivienne Westwood, Stella McCartney, Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, and Calvin Klein who stopped or never used animal fur. But even then, the leather has to go (I know Stella doesn’t use leather). How can you even sleep at night knowing you’re doing this to make money? Why would anyone buy a perfume knowing its filled with chemicals that killed bunnies? Is it really that outlandish to suggest having cosmetics be dermatologically tested? This is why Indian fashion will always be justice to me. Not only is animal cruelty in India banned, but it’s looked down upon to abuse animals there BIG TIME. Apart from one nimrod desperately trying to stand out, NO ONE in the haute coutoure or manufacturing side of fashion uses animal fur. I wish I could say the same for leather. You’d think I’d be able to because of the cows and their presence there, right? Sadly, that is not the case. Western Fashion is some bullshit. I know I can create something different, by doing it differently. I never thought I would have fallen in love with my own designs. So far, luxury involves some ultra-skinny white girl (There’s body shaming and racism in the fashion world so don’t even) parading around in dead animal skin for it to be marketable enough to sell. Fashion needs me. You hear that Fashion? You need me.

P.S. at around 11 pm today I was cuddling with my rabbit and I looked at him closely only to start crying. I think he may have licked a tear. I looked at him and thought, “Who the hell are you dude? You’re so pure....so angelic....who would ever want to hurt you....” and he just stared at me while I cried for five minutes. I can’t believe this is who I am either.