The last one out

Dear fans, this is probably my last post on this blog, it is with regret that I have to move on to other challenges after some very interesting years writing about fashion.

I am coming close to finishing my masters and I am therefore in pursuit of challenges of some other kind.

My passion for fashion and for writing for that matter have not waned, I continue to share the same values as I may have discussed or as you may have noticed in my writing.

First things first: I want to thank all readers who visited this blog, anyone who felt intrigued by things posted there in and was compelled to leave a comment, and those 0who contributed to the articles whether it was proposing discussion topics or the actual writing. As for those whom we shared a business mind, a big up for your support. I just can’t thank you enough. For anyone else who I might have left out of the list, thank you. Best of luck to you all in your endeavors, may your passion guide you to your dreams.

A fashion passion has been dear to me, it was a challenge that I took to develop my writing and my passion about fashion. A challenge that I had no idea how it would shape up or what I would do with it. It has been a journey, a long one, an interesting one, a learning opportunity. It has been something like non I have done before. Looking back at the journey, I find no regret, there might be some in that I am leaving. But I believe life holds bigger challenges for me.

For the good of mankind, for the benefit of sharing, learning or any other that may seem appropriate, content on this blog may be republished on other similar sites. I will only request that you cite the reference – for instance written by Fasean or Adapted from A fashion passion, well, you get the idea.

Last, but not least, if you know anyone who might be interested in adopting this blog and running it as their own please ask them to drop me a line at fasean.line@yahoo.com.

I believe I have not forgotten anything but I did not have a count of things I needed to say so the reality might elude me.

If you are the last visitor on this blog, please don’t forget to turn off the lights;)

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Style without fashion

Fashion, including what it stands for or is defined to be changes in a pace that even a writer cannot keep up with. But for all that it is and it gets to be, one would expect to see remnants of older styles or at least a progression of what used to be becoming what is and what is defining what is to be.

Not in all cases however. Like a river without a source, a direction or even a flow of some sort; how can that still be referred to as a river.

Fashion models waiting to walk

Picture the river, at the moment, dancing with pizzazz, swelling with currents and waves higher than you can imagine. Provocatively carrying everything in its wake, imposing, exposing, revealing, seducing, and yet when you look back the river possesses no signs of being what it is.

Almost like in a competition, it is about who squeezes their shapely or blowsy bodies into the most revealing, and strangling pieces, without even caring if the piece is an under or outerwear. In any case, they are now one and the same thing.

And ahead, the waves falter losing class, style and finally break up in all directions bringing an end to the meaning that they once gave to fashion and as a result refusing to define a path for further flow.

Flowing not with the current but like a flag; without a mind and thus a liking of its own changing direction with the wind. And when the wind is gone, it falls flat on its pole, like fashion does when style is gone.

No makeup, no hairdos

She, I would like to talk about. Makeup is part of fashion but I wonder why those who do not wear it attract me the most.

So, she is a vegan, but that’s not the point, even though am tempted to comment that it contributes to the fair texture of her skin. And she is into political science, now that I definitely want to discuss with her; I am still not convinced that democracy is the best form of governance.

Without makeup, her face, naked, engenders a connection like no other, it becomes difficult not to look at. Her eyes capture your attention the most. Does your politician look you in the eye?

She strides head high even without a hairdo. What I do not understand is why in that state, she is so arresting before she even utters. When she talks, she makes the world look so small it tells you that she has done her homework and is ready to conquer and rule.

Without makeup or hairdos she paints a beautiful picture, a natural picture, one that Leonardo Da Vinci may have wanted to paint had he had the chance

Art ruined by the naked artist

“This better be good, otherwise am not doing it” David C Wide.

Time and time again he was tempted to say to his wife: you know you just ruined art for me. But he new better. He had moreover committed the crime and had been handed a fitting punishment. And as a good citizen it was his right and duty to do time for the crime.

He had chosen to make a bed and now that he lay in it, there was no turning back.

His anguish, Peter’s anguish started after his wife Emily discovered the world of makeup. And like every other middle aged woman, she felt the need and the urge to reclaim her youth.

May be it was Maybelline, or maybe she was born with it.

To her, makeup just popped into her life at the right time and Peter was sinking or rather floating in the sea of mid life crisis. Thus the indifference in her.

Perhaps a convertible could do the trick.

To her husband, it was like an amateur artist playing with a canvas that already bore a professional’s work.

Spin it your way.

While she sat at the dressing table at the foot of the bed, girlie, Peter lay under the covers wondering why amateurs practiced their artwork on used canvases. Most of all, why did they ruin art that was already perfect. Was that art in itself or was this artist struggling to invent a new form of art or enjoying a newly found one?

Never mind.

Emily had gone from being comfortable in slipping under the covers in her birth suit to spotting a layer of makeup.

Mmmmmhh.

To Peter, it was just another piece of art ruined by a naked artist.