LIFE

My week in pictures. A school reunion, a film, a dancer, a recipe, a stylish homeless and the most interesting photos I found this week.

Link a la versión en español

Saturday. Graduation 25-year anniversary school reunion. Have you ever done one of those? It’s unnerving. While part of my brain was invested in the little things of this meeting; who’d be there, what to wear, how old we’d all look, etc. and pictures of those years kept rolling into a busy as hell WhatsApp chat, the other part thought about my teenager self and the little love I gave her back then. 

When I was in my final year, a male teacher in his 50s complained, claiming that I

wore clothes that were too tight for school (I probably did, these were the 90s and I was around 16). Although I continued dressing as before, I left the hugest sweater in a very ugly beige that went all the way down to my knees on the class hanger, which I then proceeded to ceremoniously put on every time the man entered the classroom. I am sure I was a nightmare, but I wonder what his thinking was. Was he trying to protect me? Or was he just uncomfortable with my physicality? probably both. -This had been a catholic boys' only school until just a few years prior when we girls were allowed to enrol. I started there when I was 10 and boys were the majority. I had a teacher, a different one, who when he thought our outfit was nice, made us come to the front of the class and spin for the boys to see, we were only 12! So even though it was 1997 or 98, in many aspects things were still very 1970s.- When this happened, it was the first time in my life that I used clothes to spell my rebellion, and putting on that massive knit made me feel powerful and witty. I love my teenage self for finding as much freedom in showing my body as in choosing to cover it, especially for making a point that the choice was mine to make. Could I say something now that could help my teenage self? Could I give her any advice if she were right here? Maybe I’d like to tell her this: “Babe, don’t hate yourself for not knowing, for making mistakes, for letting others tell you who you are. None of that will matter in the end, you need to make these mistakes in order to learn. Do keep this in mind because it is important: most of what will happen with boys is not your fault. Your body has changed a lot and at the moment you lack some crucial worldly information, but as time goes on, you’ll find a way to feel gorgeous and powerful away from the male gaze”. 

So that was that. 

And the party? It was ok, I was happy to see them, genuinely missed some of the no-shows, and I was relieved that in general, time hadn’t destroyed us that much. I ended up making it home at 4 a.m., slightly drunk, and happy that school times are over.

Sunday. I watched The Apartment again for the sixth or seventh time. I never get tired of this film. One of the things that has only recently occurred to me is how advanced it was for its time. Jack Lemmon’s character is a true disruptor because although he has to put up with all his male bosses using his apartment for their flings, he is not a compliant witness. He is charming and respectful, he cooks, pretends to be a bad guy just to help the girl he loves, and stands his ground while remaining true to himself. I have always watched this film just for the pleasure of it, but today, I have connected with the character from a deeper place and I realize how cool he is. A must.

Later in the day, while prepping for a new class I’m teaching on art, society and fashion, the beautiful work of Loie Fuller came to my mind. This ground-breaking woman understood multimedia a century before anyone else. She experimented with light and colour, using chemicals to reflect the light projected onto large pieces of white silk that she wore for her performances. Becoming thus more than a dancer, she was a butterfly morphing into a flower morphing into an extremely rare and unique artist. When I first came across this early example of film featuring her, I was hypnotised. If you’re curious, there is a biopic examining her life and career, not the best, but good enough on a silly day.

Monday. The one thing that I enjoy more than fashion is food and tea. My spice cabinet is a force to be reckoned with and if you want me happy, take me to a specialist supermarket, my poor boyfriend has to put up with insane amounts of time while I look at products, deciding what to bring home. Tea, I’ll talk about tea some other time but that's a big one too. So, food: I love a decadent dish with lots of contrasting flavours and colours, and what’s more decadent than burrata? The soft cheesy, milky mess that sprawls on your plate… I came across the idea for the recipe on Instagram, where I spend way too much time looking at food porn, what can a girl do? Anyway, as with everything I do, there was no way I was gonna follow the recipe in its original form (and either way, there wasn’t any). So I invented another version featuring a bed of rocket salad, two open burratas over it, seasoned with salt and pepper and covered with steamed leeks cut in three parts, more salt, more pepper, some garlic powder (I can’t handle the real thing raw) and some caramelised lemon slices in olive oil on top with sliced sundried tomatoes, lots of pesto and a dash of Aleppo pepper to garnish. Sounds good? It was.  

Tuesday and Wednesday. Research and research and then some more. Here are some favourite things I came across:

Martine Rose ss24, Barbara Bui, Adidas, Plum garden at Kameido, Joaquin Sorolla

Thursday. Have you got Temu on your radar? I didn't, until a couple of weeks ago a friend of mine said: "I'm hooked on an app that's going to cover the surface of this earth in plastic" Enter Temu for the uninitiated, a.k.a. me. A few days ago my boyfriend had mentioned that he'd found an app that had everything you could possibly think of at ridiculous prices and that he'd bought a few things. When my friend told me about this, I suspected both were referring to the same thing. I am horrified at the concept of selling things at ludicrous prices while gamifying the whole experience. Then, this crap arrived. Yes, crap is exactly the word I was looking for because this stuff is, as expected, of the worst quality. I can't imagine the working conditions needed to put this product (for lack of a ruder word) on the face of the earth. As if Shein wasn't enough already. 

If you're interested, The Guardian explains it better.

Friday. Today has been one restless day, sometimes it is hard to stay put, sit down, do the work. The thing about capitalism is that it makes us believe that we have to be productive all the time, to earn our place in society, to be of use. Of use to whom, that’s a question for another day. I’ve found these pictures by Yurko Dyachyshyn about Slavik, a homeless man he met and photographed for two years in the streets of Lviv, Ukraine. I love Slavik’s looks and, more than anything, I love his energy. He seems fun, stubborn and absolutely free, he doesn’t seem to think that his existence has to be justified in any way, that he has to live up to any standards other than his own. His love of clothes is inescapable. I wonder about his journey. Maybe he was a fashion misfit too and decided one day to leave it all behind and roam free. 

Slavik's fashion

That’s all from me this week, what about yours? Anything interesting? As always, if you enjoyed or hated this post please like, comment and share, it is a small gesture for you but a huge one for me. I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Happy weekend, misfits!

Love

Patty