Sartorialist Pick Of The Day

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“Les lèvres de plus de beauté”: The Sartorialist

I wanted to start this piece by, speaking on the North American beauty, but silly me the international frame of this photo is incredibly removed from my television retrospect of aesthetic, known here in my home of birth…”America”. This piece is more so…an ode to the glamour that is the “portrait” and what becomes of fashion when an individual is placed under a scope. Does the fabrication become meaningless, or does it just so happen that the wardrobe plays casting in choosing you for proper representation, or the candidate of style election, political as much as it seems.

I find the color palette here enjoyable, the coordination with the sun kissed, external boundary that is your skin reminds me of the wholesome wellness of self rather than shelf. Pretend for one second, well I can, that the style we choose has nothing to do with what the eye devours, but what time feels, what breaks away when our clothing is placed on the vessel and what joins our constitution, after a well-dressed community session. I find little to no comfort in the judgment of others, if the form of critique matters to what is visually present, but I would rather know more of your thoughts in descent.

The descent of your royal blue, the descendants of your salmon blazer with sun yellow piping or the last cigarette, you used to state you were ending your affair with tobacco. The style is a performance, much as the dandy is the character in which employs such tools, to project the performance of the kindred spirit. The aesthete, the character of fabric industry, the mistress of carefulness, the lackadaisical whisper of the cigarette and the mindless awe of my lens onto you. Tranquillement en admirant la fille…Oui:

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