The scales on the wings of brown African butterflies thicken and evolve to reflect violet light, “if it suits them” – a letter of love to their surroundings, a stunning externalization of their own genetic make-up.
A friend and I are chatting while glazing the rims of our coffee mugs in bright, cosmetic reds. As it often does, the conversation turns toward expression and what it means to be noticed and influenced by others, while indulging in dress that’s true to who we are and what awakens us, internally.
There’s a beautiful and unique conversation that goes on between the way we choose to adorn ourselves and the environments we reflect.
I remember myself – a little girl gaping up at “full grown” women in loud, elegant outfits thinking “twenty”, my hunger to be like them nearly seeping from my stomach. Not fully understanding why, at the time, the thought curdled nonetheless, coming out (then) in lipstick and in art and (now) in more ladylike garments and still in art. . . and lipstick.
Sometimes the little things that influence us stick around and become who we are, fashion calling them to sight in a rich and navy lustre;
Fibre vulnerable to the indents and folds of my twenty-something year old body;
Hoarfrost thread crowning neck and queuing delicate fingers, mind;
This is the response I don towards a visual culture that’s informed who I am.
This can only be had in the knowing that’s it’s OK to be influenced by the environments we espouse while seeking to express what make us . . . us.