1. The black boring batwing coat.
It has taken me by surprise. The texture of the fabric made me want to cuddle it, possibly because it’s of the most noble cotton viscose mix, but most likely as a reflection on the point number 3. The shoulders are padded, but regressed towards the neck-line, giving a rounded and soft development to the classical shape borrowed from the power-dressing decade where the batwing was the most prominent feature of the cut. There are no visible buttons, only the bumps from the snap fastening covered in black fabric, only illusion of colourless shape and the decorative becomes purely practical. I love how they tend to twist unevenly and create small imperfections on the lapel. The body is ballooning slightly around the waistline, making an odd switch from a feminine shape to an odd unmarked waistline, unflared hem and tapered sleeves. When my hands are in the pockets it is pulling just as slightly around the hips, splitting the facing at the bottom. The cotton lining catches the movement of the body and doesn’t let the coat glide, creating a slightly turned up hem, on the contrary the sleeves drape easily with every movement of an arm, bending at elbows makes them look longer, just enough to cover the edge of an elbow-length leather glove, showing the new proportion to an arm – loose and draped sloping down from the shoulder, tight on the forearm. There’s a tiny collar – big enough for a generous v-neck, small enough not to contradict the proportions of the batwing. The knee length here is not modesty, only mere necessity to elongate the shape, showing enough calf to be paired down with mid-heels. So are you still reading? I did say this post is about obsessions. Here’s a retouched catalogue version which is by no means capable of showing what I just told you. Trust me.
1. Circlesquare
Blame the Canadians! Especially the ones living and working in Berlin. And may be there’s something in the air in the city of idlers and artists, may be I’m just dreaming away to the restrained and discreet beats and echoed vocals of the new Circlesquare album. There’s something very tense about the minimal build ups and break downs throughout the tracks, the rhythm is so set apart that it slows down the heartbeat. I think back on the times when 6 year old I used to build castles with chairs and blankets, hiding inside the tiny claustrophobic spaces until it gets hard to breath, and with heavy breath I would lift up the corner of the blanket or heavy duvet which acts the impenetrable gate to my castle, and the light of the room would hurt my sight, I pretended it was a ghost and shut the duvet door back. Every track takes me back to my naïve hide-away, back to sense of fear of the outside, back to the muted sounds – the so-believed ghostly voices I went hiding from. Is this the need to build my chair castles again? I’m not sure. But I am going to see them live on 28th of February in Antwerp ( consider this as promotion, please!)
1. The boyfriend
This is the most complicated story I ever got myself into. And I’m not sure exactly when I did. Just a month or seven years ago? He sets me questioning the deepest bottom of my character, oozing with emotion which I feel a need to fight and …restrain(!)… It is my feeling that I have for him which makes me observe a coat with a skill of an autistic detail freak or want to hide in an imaginary chair castle from the past when listening to music.
Because we’re one and the same. Because we have completely different likes and preferences, but precisely the same behavioural pattern. It’s too easy and too hard to be with him. He’s got the most complex character - he’s keeping a lot in which makes him act incredibly extrovert at times to create a certain self-comfort and confidence…a kind of make-believe play.
He believes in beauty and wants me to be his little escape, but I’m not sure if he’s letting me near enough his character to lead him through and to give him beauty. I get obsessed and paranoid, I want to know what he’s hiding behind his extrovert half, I want to reach the bottom where ‘superficial’ does not have a meaning.
So I act as a jewel – I decorate his presence; as a sponge - I observe, question, analyse, and observe again testing out the limits, making him sometimes angry, sometimes annoyed, sometimes happy. Like blind, I’m feeling the passage, but I have no idea where it’s taking me. I have a lot to give and I’ve chosen him to give it to. So may be it’s a matter of time, maybe I should be changing my strategy and not imploding when emotion takes over me, maybe I should use all my intelligence and logic, since it’s my strongest weapon, and revert my reaction from inert to compulsive.
In the end the true beauty is within him, and that’s what I believe in.
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