The more I blog the more I feel a strange fashion blogger. I mean, when I see perfect outfits from streetstyle pics, beautiful models on the runways, adv campaigns in the magazines I have contrasting feelings. On one side, the first impression is that admire the aesthetics of the images, the perfection. Who doesn't like the cute things, the refined details? On the other side after a while, I have a repulsion feeling. It's like an excess of beauty that seems not very realistic. This happens to me always. It has to do with myself. It's like if in myself coexist two souls, one loves Beauty, the other loves the Truth.
In general I have the impression we care too much about being fashionable, always cool, perfect, glamour in our clothes. Almost don't excuse us when we aren't. Yes, we have to dress every day, but no, we have to direct all our passion in fashion and outward appearence. I mean, fashion is part of our life, but is a big game we don't have to take too much seriously.
Besides life is not always fashionable and cool like we are not. Don't you feel there's too much pressure in being aesthetically pretty? I want the freedom to be not perfect and want to be judged by who am rather than by my clothes. Am not an object. I know this is rethorical...but this is the reason why I like more the truth of the imperfections and prefer real women, those who, with many defects, have something intelligent to say, deep thoughts, sincere smiles, proud eyes rather than a perfect body or cool dresses. The perfection of exteriority is long run boring and want to remember what somebody said, more than wore. So I would like to dedicate this post, in this day, to all the women who are not afraid of being not fashionable, who don't give a damn, who cultivate other passions. In a fashion-oriented world isn't this more courageous, read charming? More freedom.