Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Pictures, or it didn't happen*



I just decided, just now, that I prefer fashion editorials to videos. Yes, I've complained about editorials before, as I'd prefer to see every detail of a piece first and foremost to figure out how it would work for me, and then see how others see it. And yes, I've posted fashion videos before if I think they're cool or am a huge fan of the designer. Heck, I even look forward to seeing new videos when I know they're coming (such as Alexandra Groover's newest, premiering at London Fashion Week on Friday). But really, if I'm being honest, if I have to choose between an editorial and a video, I'd rather see an editorial with no music or story line or blatant subtext attached so that I can make up my own interpretation of what is going on. Maybe it's that anti-technology aspect of me rearing its head, but fashion is much more relatable if I'm allowed to relate to it on my own terms. Seems obvious, but whatever. The same goes for me and music too - I'd prefer not being told what obscure lyrics mean (insert shout out to Davey Havok here), and sometimes I even wish I had never seen a music video that creates a narrative or image that was never (in my mind, at least) inherent in the lyrics. 


Anyway, this came up because I came home to InAisce's S/S 13 editorial lookbook, and all I could think of was Latin poetry, both the reading and translating of. For instance, the first photo captures in an InAisce-framed way my secret Latin translating spot that I was babbling on about the other day, with me in black, looking through time to what Catullus (whom I'm translating) was saying. And in the second photo, the ghost-like figure in black represents, to me, Catullus (or any other dead poet/writer/artist, for that matter), looking on at what the world has become and what we've made of him, himself being unable to follow us and yet still being here. And in the third photo (below), the figure hidden on the cliff brings to mind my Sulpicia, the focal point of my Masters, waiting to pounce on me in retribution for my erasure of her existence (though, at the same time, her ghost-ness symbolizes her non-existence...). I'm sorry, Sulpicia, but someone's got to do it.


Thoughts/feelings/impressions?

(Photos by Jeff P. Elstone II)

*Written while enjoying Theatre is Evil, Amanda Palmer's new album with The Grand Theft Orchestra (yes, that album); one of my favorite songs from it is called "Smile (Pictures or It Didn't Happen)".


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