“I have sometimes spent twelve hours working on a seam; utterly entranced and not hungry or tired till finally it had as if its own will found that precise places where it should be placed” ~ Charles James
Fashion is a painting worn. It isn’t art displayed on a wall or center piece, but on a body. It is the creativity of a designer, and an appreciation of a person who craves fine craftsmanship. It is a consummate relationship of a house of couture and the tenants who flock to them.
Fashion has been attempted to be defined for years, but like any artist or work of art, you can try to put a definition on it. You can attempt to stick it in a box, but like with most artists it can not be typecasted.
Fashion through out the ages has told stories from oppression, to strength. Feminism to masculine. War to drugs to love. It is a true political statement. Not written or painted. But boldly displayed.
If we speak in painter terms, the designer would be the painter, and the consumer the muse. Most fashionistas have those designers they go to time and time again. The pieces that call to them. The designs that could have been made with them in mind.
Fashion, like art, is open to interpretation. But that is the beauty of it. Like those who prefer Renoir or Le Brun Vigee, some fashionista’s prefer Spade over Burch, and McQueen over Westwood.
Fashion is an example of who we are, and we are the muse.
What designers speak to you?
