“para que quiero pies si tango alas para volar” – Frida Kahlo
I feel like shit today. In my real life, we have been redecorating the living room. This translates to painting, moving furniture, building cabinetry and all around contortions of your body that leave you wrecked and aching. Fucking hell.
The body ache I feel reminds me of Frida Kahlo. I wrote several papers on her in the college. The last one was comparing her to Marcel Duchamps work. Frida represented blood, desire, hunger, lust, and all the messy passionate emotions that plague us as humans. Duchamp depicted a much more abstract mechanical interpretation of these emotions. One artist lays all her cards on the table, the other masks them in whimsey and innuendo.
Anyone who has ever known me would probably guess that I’m more of a Frida girl. They would be right. I find innuendo and manipulation to be too complex for me. I never really learned my ways around it, thru it, and translated into the proper meaning. It’s like that with swearing. “Fuck” is the perfect word to convey emotion directly and without any other meaning. Some people find it crass, and I have even been “written up” as a designer for my language. I just find it clear.
*thinks about it*
The thing with clarity, it’s not for everyone.
skin: Gasqhe (The Dressing Room), Mila 01
maketup: R.icielli (The Dressing Room), Eyeliner collection black
hair: Saboteurs, MKY001 brown
tattoo: Juicy Box Tattoo, Frida 2
shoes: Maitreya Gold, Moxie Brown
top: RunoRuno, Knit Tank
bottom: Fishy Strawberry (The Dressing Room), High Waist Pant Tobacco