This is my first ever piece of Comme (omg!) bought from this online Japanese store Ratuken which sells heavily discounted designer stuff. (Check it out! I don't fully understand the point system thing but yeah maybe you can explain it to me!)
I'd never ordered from somewhere outside the UK before (apart from maybe like the odd US store on etsy? where a $2 zine, bought on impulse via tumblr, takes a year to come, so when it peeks proudly through your post you're like wtf is this! Curse you etsy!)
So I wanted to get something kinda boring as a sort of damage control. Reduce the likelihood that I'd spent £20 on shipping so that small children on the bus would point and laugh at me. Coz y'kno there's self expression and there's avoiding getting beat up by 12 year olds on the 48 back from work.
Oh and I bought another pair of printed tights from Ebay! These ones are teddies, though the fact that I have to explain that suggests that they look basically the same as the cat ones. Also I've already laddered them.
And the skirt is the old one from Primark last seen drowning under 10 different layers in this post.
I have been wearing this jumper for like two weeks straight. Partly because my brain (and my body) doesn't work properly. so I'm really bad at understanding/regulating my body temperature, Like that winter when my circulation stopped working and my feet went blue. (Yay!)
But mostly cos I feel normal in it. Not normal in the way some sort of Daria eyerolling type would use as slurs for the football crowd (who admittedly I was never in but I have a lot of love for because unironic boyhood is a performance particularly close to my heart). But normal as in comfortable, not too dysphoric. I struggle with my body, I struggle with the fact that I'm not a cis boy. And I have been blogging about my dysphoria, writing about it, making art, for what two and a half years now? And I'm yet to find a solution and that makes me sad.
And it makes me sad that the feeling of just yeah phew, *breath out* does not and will not translate into photos because I may feel comfortable inside the jumper but looking at it from the outside, not so much. Like I am actually wearing a binder in this what is happening? Has it like run out of batteries? Switched off when the flash switched on?
Much ink has been spilt on the subject of normcore,if it is for everyone or no one, elitist or inclusive. But for me at least it means something particular. Something hinging on dysphoria and (undoubtably) internalised cissexism. The privileging of masculinity in our culture. Normcore is putting on a shirt and not freaking out. Normcore is my binder. (Though evidently not in this photo). Normcore are all those 'passing' websites I used to read when I was like 14. Normcore is transition videos by Bon Iver listening American dudes. Normcore is exhausting.
Can an object reference another object?
A body reference another body?
(Like an i.ou. scribbed on a post it note and stuck to the fridge.)
Even the composition of these clothes were inspired by distant clothes. (Fashion is not a tangible sort of thing. Not really).
Which I suppose is in line with the whole being the pro capitalist generation with no prospects (the irony! the sick sad irony! insert shitty think piece bout millenials here.)
These are the clothes my clothes would like to be:
La Garconne cat dress, Mandy Coon bag, Nubuck goldfish bag, Comme jumper, Feminine and Masculine.
Disloacted bits of outfit to match my dislocated mood. Also I have a weird fascination with cardboard inserts in clothes. Cos um. Yeah. Something about ghosts and silhouettes and geeky packaging interests? Idk. And yes that is a gizmo necklace because Gizmo is my all time fave.
And to continue the dislocation/dissociation/close ups/shut downs/etc a teeny tiny mood board:
FKA Twigs (who I went to saw live in July-so good omg) from her Hide video and Mari Kojima photo.