The mail carrier has a tendency to stuff my magazines into the box without care. February's Elle was torn to shreds, and I nearly didn't it get out as it was caught on the door's hinge. The tears and rips are evident in this Balenciaga advertisement, and if I dare say it ... the carelessness is what makes the dresses that much more delightful.
Deconstruction. Ripped. Torn. I wonder if these would last even one evening out. Or one wedding as delicate as they appear to be. The silk is too bright to imagine a Miss Havisham experience ... these are not fades of a disappointment. The tip-off are the delicate, evenly spaced, not a one missing, seed pearls that are the frame for the construction of the dress, and the bric-a-brac on the top dress that doesn't have a stitch missing or a stray thread.
The soft palette and easy etherealness is the perfect remedy for what was winter. I'm ready for my strap to fall off of my shoulder, lay back, and let it happen.
No comments:
Post a Comment