This photo was my homage to Louise Brooks. That’s why I called it LouLou, but it’s me with a heavy dose of Photoshop. Still… it’s me. I did apply makeup, that’s not my style. I rarely wear makeup. Mostly because I’m too lazy to do it, I’m not very good at it due to impatience, and because when I do it makes me want to rip my face off.
Makeup prematurely wrinkles your face because it dries out your skin. And it clogs the pores. And all those creams you use to mitigate the effects of wearing makeup… are they really what your skin wants? Does it not just want to be free to breathe and be natural? Why are you hiding your natural beauty? I know… makeup is fun and expresses stuff for you.
I do wear it occasionally.
I also have psychological scars associated with it. My mother always wore makeup, she used to say that she was ‘putting on her face’, she was and still is a Malignant Narcissist.
I apologise if I offended makeup lovers… but I’m not really sorry.
Clothes don’t make you, you make clothes or at least someone like you, a human, makes your clothes. More than that, if you’re wearing clothes which don’t suit you, who you are, it will show. Like a kid playing dress-up with their parents’ clothes.
You are not supposed to fit your clothes, they are supposed to fit you. That’s my view, I know others don’t agree…
But hey! I grew up partially in Italy, they love fashion there and they believe that what you wear makes others believe who you are. They judge who you are by what you are wearing. By how you look… to them.
Perception is everything.
Many years ago I heard that anecdote about the millionaire who liked to dress down, bum style, and then go into stores like Tiffany’s and try to buy something. Of course the staff almost died from the horror of their own judgment and refused to serve him, but I think in this story Mr. Tiffany recognised the fellow, or didn’t but treated him with respect and so the fellow rewarded Tiffany’s for their non-judgmental of appearances service by spending some of his millions in their store and passing the word on to his millionaire buddies that this was an establishment worthy of their custom. Something like that.
I liked that story. I still do.
Never judge a book by its cover. But we do.
Never judge a person… just don’t… but if you feel the need to… really… don’t use their clothes as criteria. Some of the best con artists are also the best dressers.
Then again if you’re the sort of person who decides who someone is based on what they’re wearing, keep doing it, it’s how I know that you are someone I will never trust. Your judgment is impaired and easily fooled.
That’s my style. Abrasive. Blunt. Me being me. And my favourite thing to wear is a pair of trousers (pants for US readers) known as Frankenjeans. Why Frankenjeans? Because I buy most of my clothes in secondhand stores, vintage and charity shops (thrift stores for US readers). Buying in charity shops means I give to charity and to myself at the same time. But that’s not the reason I do it. It started out of necessity and… suits me.
That is my style. I adapt things to who I am and do not adapt who I am to things.