a sign

bernard willhelm is telling me what i already know i need: to go home. Paradoxically, the fact that I have pushed myself this far in my studies at Central Saint Martins has led me to the discovery of new (at least to my virgin eyes) designers that inspire me. In my latest investigations I've been trying inject fun and spirit into my designs. I only have a few more weeks in design school, two more projects to work on, and a few class sessions to learn from my peers.  There is no time to waste being austere or overthinking. I think Willhelm--a graduate of the ever elusive ever impressive Royal Academy in Antwerp-- often uses fun and playfulness as a means of questioning design, and even society, more seriously. And I think both are important!

oppressive musing

At the suggestion of my "tutor", I compiled all of my research into one big collage on my wall to soak in all the references and draw out my vision. This has so far been pretty successful but now, as I lie in my board-like twin-like dorm bed and attempt to drift, my project seems overbearing.  it is looking down at me telling me to work and reminding me of how overwhelming the entire idea is of "finding my muse" and "understanding what type of designer i am and want to be". Hopefully instead of reigning down on my imagination the images will speak to me in my sleep through my dreams. maybe i should invest in some lucid dreaming woo-yi tea, or in a sewing machine.

new low leads to surprise rager

i just cried watching this scene from Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging, a movie version of my favorite book circa 5th grade and simultaneously the new reason i can't stand british colloquialisms anymore. this means two things i have to do before and/or after i get home: get myself together and have a surprise blowout party, with or without a power pop band starring the guy from kick-ass.

summer => fun

it is warm here in london and the sun is out and that means its my favorite time of year. the time where i picnic endlessley and stroll leisurely and try to re-embrace color for the miracle that it is. especially after 5 dreary months with only one shameful day in a yellow coat-- bright hues are catching my eyes left and right.  this 2008 dior commericial directed by sofia coppola (thanks film buff bf for the tip) makes me happy that i'm a girl, sad that gravity exists, and ready to take on the day. Also these necklackes by sophie of sunken treasure are now on my summer wishlist because they are fun and so is summer!

but when does wishlist turn into reality list? now?

 

oh the colors!

the sandra bullock

my cousin just called to my attention i'm rocking the charming, oversized sweater look a la my possible-favorite 90s-00s romcom star, Sandra Bullock. Alexa Chung (still don't really get who she is or what she does) proves I'm trendy with the same sweater from Cos. The secret is in the sleeves.

hair hair grow away

photos courtesy of somuchtotellyou.blogspot.com and coldsplinters.com

denim (project)

i've been thinking, reading, designing a lot of denim for school and its been less painstaking than i expected. for one thing, its brought me back to my ol' american roots. while america is known (for good reason) as a gas guzzlin', food guzzlin' nation of waste, the discourse around denim is and always has been that of durability and longevity.  Its built to last, and whatever wears down is meant to be patched right up again before returning to build and mine and farm for your fellow citizens. But what is at stake when kids doing nothing adopt denim and intentionally exert wear and tear on their denim, like in the 80's and 90's? Today, you don't even have to work yourself to fake it-- companies now artifically mimic worked-in denim for you.  You can buy "distressed jeans" as a product instead of producing jeans through your own stress.  Is the stress now in the making of the money to buy the $200 jeans? Is this what "the new busy" is all about? All the parents and the purists complain about paying for already ripped jeans, but it's kind of grossly indicative of something larger than disgruntled patrons. And as I complain about the disconnect from labor, from direct connection to the country to which we belong, I sit at my computer in the UK and pine for these $500 jeans.

 

from Maryam Nassir Zadeh