I recently attended a private Parisian dinner party where we were asked to read a text that touched us. And I don’t know why but although I am very romantic, the only text that kept popping up into my mind was an extremely edgy extract of Hell by Lolita Pille, a young Parisian author. It was a tragic monologue in which she imagined the Traviata’s hero Rodolfo after the death of the love of his life. She imagined him bald with two kids and he has forgotten her.
After I read the piece, the audience applauded politely and when they asked me why I chose that piece, I drew the guests’ attention on the death of romance, the mediocrity and the ugliness of what we call love today. And in that, the piece I chose was very accurate and becomes somehow beautiful in its ugliness and its desperate craving for beauty. My speech was followed by awkward attempts to make me believe in romance during the whole dinner.
And yet today, watching all those designs in this article that we once called weird and find perfectly normal today, I can’t help wondering what happened to the Saint-Laurents, Oscar de la Rentas and Chanels of today…
We live in times where classic Beauty is no longer enough. We need a little extra ugly to make things more interesting, less boring. It’s fashion’s way of expressing the death of romance.
See the article here: http://bit.ly/2jsMqqu
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