April 4, 2013

it's written on the wall

Talula fedora; Wilfred sweater; Eryn Brinié blouse; Urban Outfitters bralette; Wilfred faux leather pants; Blue Ruby necklace; Archetype bracelet, Skull bracelet from my travels in Barcelona; Vintage casio watch, vintage gold bracelet; Rachel Comey ankle boots

Video & Editing: Anonymous
Music: Summertime Sadness - Lana Del Rey
Makeup: Vanessa Lee

If you're reading this right now you've most likely noticed that this is not one of our typical outfit posts. After having some awesome shoots with my other half that is Vanessa, I have become somewhat enamored with the art that is photography. Let's just take a step back here before I get way too ahead of myself - I am no connoisseur when it comes to the details and techniques of utilizing a camera properly (aperture what?) but I do appreciate its ability to tell a story about its subject; whatever that may be. It is easy to look at a photographed image and pick out the parts of an outfit that may strike you - or pick apart the facial expressions of the being in it. A photo is just a representation of its subject, a myriad of cultural experiences and every black and grey thing in between - essentially it's a representation of a point in time and space. Once you get a hand on shooting what you love you realize you can apply that dizzy inspiration to other forms of "artistic" expression. If a picture is really worth a thousand words - what can be said about moving images? Obviously this has been done a gazillion times before. Fashion films, commercials and the like are ubiquitous in nature. I wanted to experience myself first hand what it would be like to delve into something I wasn't comfortable with. I wanted to create something aesthetically pleasing yet ambiguous in a way that blurred the borders between fashion, emotion, movement and individual expression.

Myself and the person behind the camera both played the roles of director. We went into it having somewhat of an idea of what we wanted to put forth, but for the most part it was just a lot of random shit. We didn't have much to work with originally however the end result resonated with us on varying levels. The muted blues and reds cast upon the graffiti wall, the juxtaposition of images, the glances fraught with disdain and the smiles erring on just the right amounts of bullshit are all moments chosen to convey a certain kind of  "truth" or lack thereof. I've always been overcome and stimulated by the same god damn people - the beautiful ones as well as those dangerous and flawed. Therefore thematically this was personally pleasing for me. Does art really imitate life? Or is this a case of an anti-mimesis notion that Oscar Wilde so profoundly held that "Life imitates art far more than art imitates life" Paradoxes are a precarious thing.