How I imagined my life

How I imagined my life

There I was. Like a princess trapped in the slums of her own imagination; a baby wrapped in silks and diamonds, breathing the contaminated air of deep, deep sadness and tragedy.

I was the child of misery, still so devoted to my own stardom. And like a fire burning inside of me, the fury in my eyes wanted more. The desire in my heart wanted to climb higher.

So I prayed, I prayed that one day the slums would turn into gold with a Midas’ touch.

And I would be the Queen of the imaginary place that I created,

and destroyed.

BCK BTHC

i feel like i act too systematically and
i am turning into a machine.
i like to play the part of the heroine, “the blonde”, because
i know
i’m the worst.
i walk around in delusion of a perfect life when mostly
i’m just sad to the core

i am hopeless.

No.5

i've got nothing to do

but to be stuck on you

iDENTITIES

today's identity

THE SCENT OF DEATH

 vintage fox fur coat, red lips by mom

Identity is a big part of us. For some, it's a really strong feature, some can't keep it stable for a very long time. For me it's totally the last one.

The method of how we build ourselves, our identities and our personality are dependent on our culture, sex, sexuality, family, friends, religion, icons... Basically by everything, that surrounds us. But very often these things also break down bits from our identities or even change them. For example; some people please their family and friends rather than themselves, because the acceptance is so important for them. Identity is a fragile and vulnerable feature that everyone should guard to the last second despite of others' opinions.

It also makes me furied that many people think that your identity should always be stable and they expect it to be static. I've never really understood why some make such noise about a person who changes and creates a new identity often. From my own experience, I can say that changing my identity from day to another makes me feel safe. Taking different roles - physical and spiritual - is a way for me to find out who I am and a way to express myself.


I wish that everyone would be allowed to show their own identity in a way that they want to. That the things that surround us would only be there to built and support, not to break down. It hurts me whenever I see someone who's not comfortable in their own character and outer identity because of the pressure from the outside. But maybe one day everyone is allowed to choose their own path - the identity of their life - from the very first step to the last one.

CELEBRITY DEATHS

I've recently been very facinated about celebrity deaths. Stars falling from the sky of champagne and diamonds, after they have burned out their fame. Are they giving up on their calling? Are they afraid of falling from the top in such a painful way, that they rather go away than take the pain?

The concept and cycle of becoming famous and becoming unfamous is quite twisted and sometimes it seems to be even metaphoric. But maybe it's just like the nature's cycle. Stars are born, stars are dying.

Maybe a person like me, who's obviously never been famous, doesn't understand the weight you have to carry and all the work you have to do in demand to keep your fame, and to live on the spotlight. The weight that drives people to drug problems, to alcohol problems, addictions, mental disorders... And very often to losing your fame because you can't take it no more or you can't handle all the work you have - to a mental celebrity death. Which might lead to passing the edge; to a physical celebrity death, murder on spotlight.

The scariest thing about this whole system is that I'm not scared. I want it. More than anything my goal in life is to die on the spotlight without the mental death of my inner - and outer - fame. I wanna die on the top and leave my name on the history.

T e s t 911

i'm dead

furied heart

This feeling came to me once again this morning, as overwhelming and heavy as usual. I opened my computer, logged in to tumblr. And there it was, a picture from House of McQueen by Sarah Burton S/S 2012, reblogged with a caption that said something like this "Amazing collection by Alexander McQueen, I admire his work."

I was so close to throwing up my morning coffee, I felt so furied and angry. How dare you put something that Sarah Burton has made to the name of Lee's?

Let me give you some background to my anger. I usually don't give a shit about a new head designer, if the collections stay honest for the House. Especially after a death. But McQueen has been very dear to me since I was 12 years old. He was the first designer I knew about, and who's work I started to follow passionately. He kind of grabbed my hand and pulled me to the world of fashion, couture, he represented me to my real calling. And his work became a big part of me. So you can imagine how painful it was for me to find out that a part of my life had died. A part of me had died. I still get these moments of anger and tears pushing trought when I look at his work, or see his pictures. He's more than a designer for me.


I'm still confused about House's decision to get a new head designer and go on. McQueen said himself that if a head designer dies, the House should go with him. And that he wouldn't like McQueen to go on without him.

Why?

Sarah Burton makes beautiful clothes. Yes, she has potential. Actually I love her designs. They are delicate, feminine but still have the edge for which McQueen is known for. But
For me, her clothes are just clothes. Shoes are just shoes. Beutiful design, divine pieces of clothing. Amazing choises in fabric and colours.
But these clothes don't have a soul. Burton tries, she tries so hard to give these clothes a soul. But it doesn't happen without Lee. He had an amazing talent on making the clothes come alive, and he made the clothes tell a story. His shows were stories, amazing fairytales from couture wonderland, fairytales with a message. I don't see the same in Burton.

And the fact that she's supporting the House to go on against Lee's wishes is just disgusting and money hungry. The whole house just seems to work with the desire to have money, not from the joy of creating art. It makes me sick.

My biggest wish would be that Burton would start making her designs with her own name. And leave McQueen alone.

I guess it's not happening and I keep getting these moments of anxiety every other day.