Atomic Warehouse dress; turban courtesy of Tamara Barnoff; Dollhouse shoes; assorted vintage jewelry.
The clothes make the woman. How very true.
The past few months I've been so overwhelmed and busy that I've taken for granted my bursting-to-the-seams vintage wardrobe and the subsequent potential slew of amazing outfits waiting to be created. With the exception of a few carefully-planned photo shoots, true creativity and fashion have been put on the back burner and what used to be my daily makeup and hair regime has trickled into a weekly event.
You would think that a recent onslaught of life-changing decisions I'm currently being forced to address would further dismiss my need to prioritize my daily ensembles. Surprisingly, I've actually felt a fashion rebound during this period of stress and pressure.
Over the years, I've had a lot of people indirectly (and sometimes rather obnoxiously directly) inform me that they believe my chief motive for dressing in such a manner is to nurse personal physical insecurity. Several years ago, such an assumption wouldn't have been far from the truth. Without my makeup and extravagant wardrobe, I honestly believed I was unattractive. However, through a number of circumstances (to include a 6-month "grounding" from fashion and my first heart-wrenching breakup), I learned to love myself naturally, without the glamour of lipstick and Louboutins.
In times of trial, my clothes, hair, and makeup are not a shield against the world. They are weapons. A shield is meant to defend and protect. A weapon is meant to aide and attack. (And in this case, enjoy and utilize outside the field of battle!)
I'm "out on the edge" of a roof in blue stilettos; I'm currently "out on the edge" concerning life decisions. If I fall, I'll die looking fabulous with my sword in my hand and my boots on.
Special thanks to Atomic Warehouse for letting me use their awesome roof as a location for this shoot!