I’ve worn it at least 873 times before, and it still looks new

 

If I had to stick to one dress for the rest of my life, it would have to be a very special one, in the first place. It would have to have all my favorite colors on it, and know what future colors I would fall for, so it would have those too; it would have polka dots, checks, small flowers, big flowers, paisley and stardust print; it would have layers of lace, chiffon, white cotton, velvet,  and maybe some tulle; it would have to cover  my ass well in winter, and also let my chest breathe freely and bare my arms gently during summer; it would have to smell like daisies in spring, and like apple & pumpkin pie during autumn (with just a hint of cinnamon); oh, and a collar would be welcome, as well – make that a peter pan collar; detachable, of course; I sometimes like myself a generous decolletage, so that I can make it very clear that I have no breasts really, so I’m far from attractive, actually.

I’d wear that dress on a hill, running down so fast, that I’d feel I was flying; I’d wear it behind trees, hiding from bees and wet kisses; I’d wear it on the street, walking to places where people look at me with such ambiguous curiosity; I’d wear it at the theatre, where I’d always fear of cold and empty halls, and end up instead stolen by peculiar emotions, laughing with tears, crying without them, feeling all sad and satisfied and a-fucking-live; I’d wear it on the train, while impulsively trying to hold my breath and stuff a pair of blue headphones in my ears, then finding a piece of heaven on the curves of a plain that can truly teach you how to belong to all worlds and seasons, and to none at all, at the same time; I’d wear it with my unconsciously happy face, exemplifying how sheer joy, retarded fear of facial expressions and childish artlessness can coexist between the outlines of the same tired face; I would have to wear it at work too, but work is something I don’t like to do in narrow places with lightheaded people; I’d wear it at home, while washing dishes and cooking meals whenever I felt an imminent threat of love & happiness overflow that I wouldn’t know how to handle; I’d wear the same dress whenever I had to deal with my unbearable weaknesses, a fight that always ends up with coffee (no sugar or milk, as usual) and discreet sobs; I’d wear that dress whether I liked it or not, whether I wanted to live forever or stop living, in certain moments that later get left out of my personal mythology; I’d have to get used to being looked at like I was wearing a different dress each day, when it would be so damn obvious that I would only wear it upside down or inside out or play with its rich layers and smart construction, but at the very core, it would be nothing more than one dress. My own.

 

*Wearing TinaR dress, a light coat / dress from a small Parisian boutique which can still be smelt on the fabric, vintage clutch, brooche & earrings, Biba Bijoux ring, Jeffrey Campbell shoes

* Photos by Diana Cilian

 

* Don’t forget to enter the Tina R contest – you can win an item of your own choice, from a brand with both a history and a bright future in the making! Leave a comment in the previous post and visit TinaR to choose from a wide range of versatile pieces in their Spring Collection!

 

 

 

 

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