How many times have I asked if you ever use Instagram to get dressed? It used to be so easy. I’d flip between three to four accounts (usually Tamu McPherson, Pernille Teisbaek, Pandora Sykes and Ramya Giangola), bookmark outfits that they have worn or inspiration photos that they have posted, pour selfie-juice over them and throw it all into my mental tumble dryer. Then, without trying to iron out the wrinkles, I’d head towards my closet, armed with new ideas and a fresh outlook on stuff I already own. But lately, I’m less interested in reality. Or should I say, real people. I prefer a fictional or mythical creature — perhaps straight-up eggs fried over a set of breasts, a photo from the past or makeup deliberately gone awry across a woman’s face — telling a story about the kind of person she isn’t, but could be in costume.
When I am inspired, it’s typically by devastatingly simple outfits that still bleed so much energy.
Would I look like this if I wore the beach equivalent of a black Victorian blouse with a denim mini skirt and simple sandals? Probably not. But she does it so well, and I relate so much.
Then again, though, if I were seated cross-legged on a sandy beach, applying sunblock (I mean self-tanner), to my already bronze skin (again, self-tanner), maybe I could add more. Maybe I could tie a similar headband on my head. And wear white sunglasses that say so much by simple virtue of their color.
Here’s exhibit B. I think she too is French, and wearing similar fare: a denim mini skirt, a simple striped button-down and short-heel mules. Could I project maximalism in such a minimalist look?
Maybe! With the right beret (or not), exaggerated lipstick and clearly drawn-in eyebrows. Maybe!
Or maybe I really would need to stick a set of eggs to my boobs in order to feel the most like me.
Either way, ^^^this^^^ is the shit I bookmarked this week. Do you care? (It’s okay if you don’t!)
Photos via @jeannedamasdaily and by Adam Peter Johnson via @pawaka.
