'Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans'. Thanks to mister Lennon and his Plastic Yoko for translating the last days in a few words. I have spend some time with friends I had not seen in quite a while, enjoying a pizza over diner, chit-chatting the night away. I experienced sorrow and sadness in a personal circle. My boyfriend left me (just temporarily!) for India the next two weeks. It was all about meeting and leaving behind, about joy and pressure. Life is a splendid chain of happenings, going faster and faster. Fashion is following that same road. By forcing designers to fulfill one or more collections each season, the creativity has been pushed over limits. Paris Fashion Week ran after Milan, who ran after London, and squeezed somewhere in between is New York falling behind. As an editor, I look over hundreds of photographs and outfits a day, moreover being a curator than a creative director. Information is everywhere, and sometimes a bit overflowing. Best cure? Sipping a cup of white jasmin-tea, enjoying my new clothing and camera in silence. (And secretly browsing through some streetstyle. Just because you can not beat the bloody passion for aesthetics out of me. Proof is above, from Tommy.)
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