After reading The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton (first published in 1920), I couldn't help but find quite a few similarities between the novel and the 1988 film Heathers. Both stories are based on society, or better: both stories are a comment on society. Particularly the idea that the society they are living in is bullshit (to articulate it highbrow). Both main characters -Newland Archer and Veronica Sawyer (played by Winona Ryder)- want to either escape or change their situation. And both find this change in love. I think for The Age of Innocence as well as Heathers, the notion of change opposite no change (and the way towards it) is very important. You can't always get what you want or you do, unwillingly, and end up in a situation that isn't necessarily better and most probably worse (wishing Heather C. dead and -unknowingly- "serve [her] a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer" or badly wanting to mary 'the love of your life' only to find out another woman -her cousin- is actually the love of your life. Hate when that happens).


Heathers is set in high school and deals with the hierarchy -your typical groups of poplar kids, nerds etc. which gravitate and bounces off each other- and the idea of outsiders (it's actually a parody of your typical high school movie). This time the 'clear' rebel (as opposed to Veronica who gets 'dragged into' the bad boy life) is a boy called J.D. (played by Christian Slater) with a cause, so it happens to be.



High school and the 'society of high school' is something that we all reflect upon as a way of life. Even when you're not in high school, the social establishment or division is a representation we often use in further social situations (jobs, parties etc., you can't escape it -it's almost a sort of natural formation of 'being' within bigger social situations). J.D. doesn't like this. As doesn't Veronica. J.D. tries to disrupt this ongoing cycle by killing people and make it look like suicide, dragging Veronica with him into this 'upsetting the natural flow' cause. And indeed, this is almost a literal disruption and formation to change, in the sense that it's a way of eliminating -at first- the core elements that seem to be the drive behind the hierarchy. However, as Veronica learns, by dismanteling one or two (or three or four) of the players within the chain, you don't necessarily disrupt it and therewith change it. By handling only one part, there comes someone else, in this case literally another Heather, to take the place and take up the game as played before. Naturally Heather -or whoever will take the thrown next- will not be the same as Heather (C.). There'll always be a slight change as to how she/he got into that position, but the end result is very much the same. A repetition of history, the head held high of the queen and down of her subjects.

Yes, there is however a change in perception of the characters J.D. and Veronica murdered. An extra -and in this case false- layer is being added to the 'suicides', making them perhaps (anyway in the case of Heather C.) bigger than life. Making the air-headed into profound, deep thinking and 'tortured' creatures (say a fellow student 'realising' he wasn't dumped because he was boring, but because she was dissatisfied with her life). A bittersweet symphony. Again: the act of killing has not disrupt but probably even magnified and enhanced their 'role' of oppressor and power holder -and therewith represents the identity they were trying to oppress or overrule by killing in the first place. As someone pointed out on the internet: Heathers "portrays that killing a problem doesn't always solve it."



The Age of Innocence also plays with this idea. The never changing hierarchy or 'way of living' and an unendless chain of 'being' (or better: pretending), is what the main character Newland Archer drives to his choices within the novel. Add a feeling of pride or the 'need' to keep up appearences -as he has learned to obtain all his life- brings us to some interesting thoughts. Killing a problem doesn't always solve it. Which is something very important to keep in mind when Newland starts daydreaming, realising, that not only he will one day die but also she (she being May Welland, the wife that he doesn't love). She's young, sure, but young people die too (look at Heathers, lots of young people 'die' before their prime). And if he'd taken the plunge, it would've ended quite differently. But he doesn't, lucky girl. And the disruption he was looking for never comes. Or rather: the disruption comes but confirms that change will not be part of his life (so bye bye Countess Ellen Olenska -the actual love of his life). And although Veronica is actively participating in change, the power or double-sided concept of The Age of Innocence is again the idea of keeping up appearences. Loving from a (safe) distance. And therewith the disruption or change isn't necessarily in the love that enfolds throughout the novel between Newland and Ellen, but the (enforced) 'departure' of the Countess by the society he's being surrounded with (actually: being completely absorbed into it, as a married men instead of -in his eyes- the small piece of freedom he experienced before. But still: it's kinda his own fault, accepting his fate before actually looking in the eyes of it).


It somehow comes as now surprise that in the end Newland becomes what he despised to be. Not actually living a lie, but rather I guess -again- keeping up appearences. Telling us in a surprise how he actually mournes about May's death (no worries, natural cause) as if we ought to be proud of him, that he achieved 'so much' by actually mourning for her. Round of applause, everyone. And in this way there's still no change. No change in running away with Ellen, perhaps change in the way Newland approaches life (but no change opposed to that of which he tried to break from -something he wanted to change in the first place) and there's no change in the end between the love for his wife that's been disrupted by the love for Ellen. And it's funny to think that this notion of 'no change' actually is an annoyance to Newland (and kids) towards his wife. He becomes all that he didn't wanted to be, a replica of the world he'd known and grew up in, and therewith blames his wife for being the same (although it must be said that she wasn't looking for change in the beginning). I guess by being confronted by this replica or creation of his need for change, he fosters a kind of narrative around her -which I personally think isn't always as true as he wants them to be or May's fault in the first place. And I think the ending -in some way- reflects this idea. The change is to be found in the surroundings and customs. So for instance before mentioned kids and not to forget the telephone. The telephone -who'd thought- plays actually a crucial role in the last chapter. It's an immediately clear signifier of change. The revolution of electricity, faster communication, less bamboozle and more action! So when his son calls the Countess on a whim -because he can- it's an accepted fact of change -by her of all means (because son-dear grew up with that stuff).

However when it comes to the point of reunion, Newland stays glued or stuck to old traditions and/or lingers on the thought he has of her. He's actually grown afraid of the possible change between them. The change in lifestyle and the change in 'being' she must've endured inbetween those 30 years apart. He eventually decides against the matter -against the reunion and the possible change he saw flashing before his eyes (of a finally 'happy ever after' life with Ellen). Why? Because he's old-fashioned. Or better: he's embodied the idea of his generation -quite literally- and is still in a way keeping up appearences. Changing the possible change, perhaps, and therewith presenting the idea or morality that the choices we make (or are made for us) grow with(in) us. Decisions, man.


Heathers and The Age of Innocence, besides change, also play with this idea of having a choice. Or rather: making a choice. Which made me thing of French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre's (1905-1980) idea of 'bad faith'. Sartre is part of the Existentialism movement (aka what it is or means to be human). Central to his work is the idea of choosing and therewith perhaps 'fashioning oneself and thereby fashioning humanity'. In his book Existentialism is Humanism he states: "Man, born into an empty, godless universe, is nothing to begin with. He creates his essence -his self, his being- through the choices he freely makes ('existence preceeds essence'). (...) In choosing to be this or that is to affirm the value of what we choose. In choosing we commit not only to ourselves but all of mankind." Important to add to this is the idea that Sartre has about the freedom of our choice (often referred to as 'bad faith'). Sartre believes we're all free. Although we might be tight to our time and space, we're all free to live our life or give meaning to our life the way we choose it to be. We're free to choose another way of being, another self, at any point in our life. It's having bad faith to think otherwise, that there's no choice (and therewith thus no change). But as Sartre would argue: there's always a choice. There are even so many choices we can't even comprehend them all. Just think about all the possibilities you could do right now, all the choice you have, all the decisions you could make and all the change that lies behind all of that. Too much, perhaps? And that's why, Sartre says, we don't act upon them, why we limit ourselves. Like Newland we think we're stuck in our habits, our society -and even 'breaking free' from it (or having the chance to break free from it)- he's being pulled back again by the idea or fear of change (and therewith of choice). J.D. on the other hand acted greatly on his choices, on his disruption and change. Although we might question if they were the right decisions to make, he still believed -to some extend- in change (or murder) and to be free within his actions (again: murder). And so did Veronica. She believed there needed to be change, and although she didn't intuitively act upon those wishes, with help from J.D. she finally realized that -say it with me: by killing a problem you don't necessariy solve it. She undertakes action herself. Not by blowing up her school (although she sort of blew up J.D.), but by taking Heathers red hairband (the source of all evil).



Naturally we don't know if she succeeds in making this decision into a reality, the film ends way too early to tell. But at least she made her choice in the end. Not letting her life rule anymore by a rebel boy (or a psychotic boy for that matter -although it must be noted that there are theories saying that J.D. doesn't actually exist and is a reflection or hallucination of Veronica's own dissatisfaction), but by on her own terms. Something -again- Newland never reaches (although at the end -the decision to not go and see Ellen- could be seen as something that came as his own choice, but then again the motivation behind it could be seen as a choice burdened by others).

After reading the novel, I actually watched the 1993 adaption of the story with -you'll never guess- Winona Ryder playing May Welland! So I thought I had to (briefly) include it in this post. Firstly The Age of Innocence film is absolutely beautiful to look at. It was directed by Martin Scorsese and is full of iconography and symbolism (same goes actually for Heathers). And to my surprise there weren't that many changes made within the adaption and the story told by Edith Wharton. Some side-tracks weren't shown, but nothing lacking the main story. However I did find that the passing of time in the novel is better illustrated. The growing love affair between Ellen and Newland -and therewith the graving of Newland to break free from his life and to start anew, was much more clearer in words than on screen I think (I had the idea that one moment they met and the other they were rolling around in the back of the carriage).


Both stories could be classified as a dangerous romance. Not only putting everything at risk by Newland Archer in The Age of Innocence (and therewith not keeping up appearences as pleased), and quite literally in Heathers. I personally didn't initially really like Newland. I thought him to be unfair opposed to his counterparts within the story. Especially opposed to May, portraying her as some kind of lightbulb that was already broken by birth. He always puts himself on top of the hierarchy (or perhaps even besides it), although he never -in 'reality'- stood on top of his society (as is clearly to be read from the goodbye party for Countess Ellen Olenska). Within his mind he stood above or beside, in reality he stood within (but never on top) and with Olenska he didn't even wanted to be part of it. She was different. She was a change already in itself -a change he was aching for. A change that could've changed his life, his being. But it wasn't meant to be. Or again: maybe even planned out not to be. The society, the hierarchy he stayed related to through the love affair, despises change and difference. It protects itself from chaos (which in some way is understandable and maybe even -to some extend- relatable).


The same idea could actually be projected onto J.D. and his 'mission'. We all do agree there's a problem, but the solution he proposes (mostly chaos) isn't what most of us were thinking about as a solution in the first place. Not only is it a bad solution because it doesn't actually lead to a sustainable or maintained change (what else did you expect to get from chaos?), but also because killing people and make it look like suicide is illegal (and a generally bad thing to do). Although the chain is broken by J.D., it's still there. Rather than an actual change within the system of hierarchy, the places shifted (giving him more room to play with and actually being or becoming an active part within the in's-and-out's of the development of the hierarchy). He plays a dangerous game (remember: not a rebel but a psycho). Creating chaos, reinforcing some kind of order under his control, to eventually wanting to make a bigger statement (chaos extreme). He fails and instead of the school, he blows himself up. Interestingly though, you -as a viewer- don't really condemn his actions in the end (or at least I didn't -at some point I actually wanted him to blow up that school, which makes you question what happened inbetween those scenes with the audience -me- to think such a thing. I blame it on the charm of Slater). J.D. was quite literally the change, a choice to make. A decision. Voluntarily or not. And Veronica isn't like Newland. She doesn't 'accept' or falls back into 'same old, same old'. She takes or even embraces this idea of difference and change and tries to use it - not to make a disruption within the line- but to actually change it. No Heather in charge, but a Veronica. Again: we never find out if she actually succeeds, but it's the thought that counts.

Love,
Dominique


What I'm wearing: Blouse - Made by me / Trousers - Charity Shop / Sunglasses - Vintage / Belt - My dad's / Bag - Charity Shop / Hat - Primark (old) / Shoes - Van Haren /
Sources: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 /

I'm not a natural summer lover. That's to say: summer isn't for instance as dear to me as autumn. I mostly prefer the autumn mindset, fashion and weather (although I'm craving sunlight at the moment... she says while the weather is very autumnal). Naturally obviously the numerous free weeks that comes with summer aren't disliked. Spare time is the time of my life! Especially considering that coming school year is going to be graduation year... hello thesis and internships. *desperately sighs* But before all that we've got the summer. Holiday, celebrate. And to make the most of it (also blogging-wise), I was inspired by Jessica from Chronically Vintage. She recently wrote a blogpost called "32 fun blog post writing prompt ideas for this summer (or anytime!)". And guess what? Here I am, just back from a blogging hiatus, why not use this list to -as she stated- fuel the blogging mojo a little. I've got quite some things in storage to share, but in the meantime why not sit back, relax and try out some of her suggestions. It's like the sunshine I've -and maybe you too have- been craving, but then from your computerscreen instead from, like, you know, the actual sun. So grab yourself a pair of rose-tinted sunglasses, step on board the inflatable chocolate donut ring (because nothing says 'summer' more than inflatable food) and don't forget the sunscreen lotion!


To get into this summer-setting (which I'll call: Sea You Later, proudly stolen from the clever part of the interwebs) I'll start with #6 on the list: "Ten things you love and ten things you dislike about this season." BUT I'll be doing it with a twist...


We -or at least I- get a feeling of satisfaction when talking (or writing) about the things I love. And a sort of same satisfaction gets to be felt when I talk (or write) about the things I dislike. Not only, I think, because it illustrates my 'passion' towards either subject (the passion to love and dislike things, people and situations). Together, I find, they define me. My likings and dislikings are or could be interpreted as a representation of myself (however fleeting they may be).* This made me think about three things:

1. The Man Who Loved Books Too Much by Allison Hoover Bartlett
2. Cruella De Vil
3. Why Don't You Love Me? by Beyoncé

Why? Well:

1. I love this book. I read it a few summers ago and it keeps popping in my head from time to time (I should really reread it...). Within the book we follow the writer's journey trying to disect this case (that actually happened) about a book thief who stole (expensive and rare) books literally for the love of books. So not for the words within the books or the meaning they portray or the money they can make, but the actual literal love for books. On the back of the book it states (as a teaser): "What would you do for the love of a good book? For John Charles Gilkey, the answer is: go to prison." His love is not only defined  by that what he loves, but how he expresses that love. His actions -his loving- represents his being and that of the world he steals from (it both being 'a world on its own').


2. As I'd written in an essay (oh yes, I'm quoting myself):

In the introduction of The Anatomy of Fashion, Colin McDowell states: "Once everyone in a society wears clothes, how one dresses becomes a form of projection and differentiation. Clothes present clues about the wearer."** Therewith he says that clothes or wearing clothes is a social construct that not only reflects the different functions and needs of the body, but carries a certain symbolism -or meaning- towards that part of the body (or naturally the body as an entity). Wearing clothes is thereby become not only a matter of projection and differentiation, but of enhancement and what this might or does signify to others. McDowell: "Once the basic requirements of clothing -protection, warmth, comfort- were addressed in ancient times, it can be argued that any later change reflects not necessity but fashion." Therewith fashion, and thus items of clothing, became to represent -or are seen to represent- the wearer. Fashion can not only be labelled as a social construct, but moreover a cultural construct that -again- not only projects or differentiates 'you' from the other wearers of clothing, but mostly creates the idea of 'you' in the first place. Of an identity that is expressed through the clothes you are wearing. A good example of this is Cruella De Vil from the Disney films 101 Dalmatians. I naturally do not condone miss De Vil's behaviour in the films, but she is absolutely perfect in this sense. Cruella De Vil is the spotted skin of a Dalmatian puppy. Or at least, that is what she believes or sees herself to be. She not only identifies with the spotted skin (and clearly not so much with the puppy part), she most of all has a very clear idea in what form the spots should adorn her body and will not stop until she gets it her way (because -arguably- of this very strong identification with the Dalmatian print and not only because she is evil).


3. Why Don't You Love Me? explores the frustration of not being loved (or loved enough) while serving someone on your knees. Doing everything you can to get the love you desire (and still not receiving it). Besides the on fleek #aesthetics of the music video, I think that the idea of 'to love and be loved in return' isn't something that's just applicable to social (person-to-person) relationships, but also to 'objective' (person-to-object/object-to-person) relationships.


So why don't I love summer? Well, first of all because it isn't autumn. And although the weather at the moment might be misleading, it still doesn't carry the charms and grace of an autumn day. Therewith Dutch summer weather, when at its worst, is moistly hot. Not something to envy. Especially if you know what's to follow: thunder and lighting bolts. I don't mind a litte bit of rain, but being trapped inside, with a quivering dog and a sweaty back is anything but ideal. Especially when trapped inside, with a quivering dog, a sweaty back AND an unidentified insect that decides to fly rounds around your head. AND, to make matters worse, there's almost nothing good on tv ('cucumber time television' as we call it). Not to speak about heightened allergies.


When described like this, summertime isn't light and sunny, but dark and hunting. Summertime is Cruella De Vil who acts on her own knowledge of right in the name of 'being'. Or perhaps even the 'right of being'. An all consuming love that doesn't love you back (and basically why I don't love it in the first place). But it also sparks off a longing, a longing to steal it away and make it love you (despite, again, the fact that you don't actually love it). So why not? Lets fake love! Fake it till you make it and write it till you like it.

'Cause there's lots to love too, when it comes to summer. To begin: School's out, scream and shout! Summer means no schoolwork, no schoolstress (although...) and no screaming children (we live sandwiched between four or so primary schools). Because all those little shouty kids are gone and away to wherever. Screaming and shouting and running and generally being annoying at some campsite far, far away. Now it's my turn to shout, shout, let it all out! Also: my turn to feed all the cats, dogs and goldfishes that are left behind. Not necessarily a plus to summer, but, ya know, cute cats, dogs and goldfishes are never wrong (accept for the neighbours' cat, he always hisses at me, little bugger). But a staycation doesn't mean a staycation, if you get what I mean. Summertime gives you the chance to get out (when it isn't too moisty or hot or thundery). I say museums, castles and flea markets. And last but not least: like John Charles Gilkey and books, like Cruella De Vil and Dalmatian spots and like Beyoncé and her voice, it's me and my sunglasses! And during summer I can wear them without being looked at! Without being judged for my 'poor life choices'! I can wear sunglasses inside or out whenever I like (especially when it's summer). Besides: rather protect my eyes than burn them out of my skull, amiright?!


I'm not a natural summer lover. But I can get used to it! Lets make this summer the new autumn! What do you (dis)like about summer? Let me know in the comments below...

Love,
Dominique


*Although I also believe, as Gilles Deleuze (French philosopher) has argued, that representation is 'wrong' (or at least incomplete) because it re-presents something. It isn't what it says it is.
**Not to tease too much: I'm planning on writing a post about Sherlock Holmes, the 19th century and fashion... OoooOooooOooh!

What I'm wearing: Blouse - Made by my mum / Culottes - Made by me / Shoes - Panara (old) / Belt - My dad's / Pearl Necklace - Vintage /
Sources: The Anatomy of Fashion by C. McDowell, Fashion Beyond Identity by R.L. Breuer

At the beginning of this month a historical moment happened. I know, I know, nowadays everything is being bombarded into a 'historical moment' (I made a sandwich today #historicalmoment), but this time it truly is! "An actual historic moment?", I hear you all gasp. Yes, a historical moment THAT'S NOT DEPRESSING. Praise Rembrandt! Because indeed: I'm talking about the two paintings that made their way to the Rijksmuseum this 2nd of July. What wonderful news! (except when you hear the number on the pricetag they came with... you can't have it all, you can't have it all). Co-owned by France, these two beauties -Marten and Oopjen- took their place in the hall of fame of the Rijksmuseum (they got a nice spot next to the Nightwatch).

Obviously this HISTORICAL MOMENT got a lot of attention from the press. However one article really stuck with me from the (sponsored) special by De Telegraaf, which explored the idea 'are Marten and Oopjen (especially specifically Oopjen) ugly or not?'. Indeed a very important question to ask. The article states that it's a natural occurance -throughout history- that women are being judged for their looks. In the 19th century the portrait of Oopjen was being scrutinized because of her (supposed) ugliness. The Dutch poet and writer Carel Vosmaer remarked that you can only forget the ugliness of her being through the brilliance of Rembrandt (who'd painted her so vivid and expressive). The article concludes that taste is subject to fashion and that in the 17th century -when the painting was made- she might've been a good looking woman.


This made me think about a quote from The Story of Art by E.H. Gombrich: "The trouble about beauty is that tastes and standards of what is beautiful vary so much." Aesthetics play a very important role in the way we perceive our body and how it's being perceived by others. What does it mean to be ugly anyway? According to Google Translate UGLY; unpleasant or repulsive, especially in appearance. Used in a sentence: "She thought she was ugly and fat." Ugly and fat. Being fat (or the idea of being fat) often goes -or is made to go- hand-in-hand with the perception of ugliness as a 'symptom'.


Throughout the course of the 19th and 20th century, the thinner body takes over the ideal of the thicker body. The preference of the thinner body (or at least the thinner waist) within Western society can be traced back to the idea that 'we' take the acces (or excess) of food for granted. As Colin McDowell explains in The Anatomy of Fashion: "Slimness is thus a sign of self-control and positive body image. In ages when no such assumption about food was possible, the filled-out belly of the succesful male was a potent sign of social success and thus a sexual attractor, while the rich man's wife's 'proper double chin' (...) was considered proof of her husband's power and importance."


Control becomes very significant or important within society around the 19th century. Therewith replacing the idea of big being beautiful -or rather powerful- to its opposite (although it must be noted that within Western society the ideal of the ancient figures -especially that of the Greeks and Romans- has been idealized and taken as a beauty standard throughout history). Being fat equals to having no power, because self-control has taken over the idea of being powerful. And thus being fat is a sign of too much indulgence, no self-control. Therewith: the inability to change; instead of the denigration of fat it became the denigration of powerlessness (often shown or signified through the idea of fatness). As Georges Vigarello says in The Metamorphoses of Fat: "(...) The reprobation becomes more psychological, more intimate; they are no longer accusations of awkwardness or gluttony, but of nonmastery, a lack of power over oneself as one keeps an 'impassive' and ugly body whereas 'everything' says it ought to change." The body became identified with the person(ality) occupying it, making 'ruling over oneself' during the Victorian era a personal business based on impersonal or the outer-perspective of how things should be run. The corset gained popularity because -one could say- it literally controlled the body and (directly) illustrated to the outside world this concept (of self-control and therewith being powerful opposed to no self-control and being powerless). According to McDowell, the "possesor [of a corset] was willing to undergo intense pain and privation in order to achieve a silhouette that was idealized to the point of caricature, and completely unnatural."*

This has led to the idea of self-control (or power) that needs to be conducted onto and signified through the body -with help from corsets- whereby the sign or idea of wealth is being distributed by the inability to (consciously) indulge too much in basically anything. Not only in food, but also most importantly in movement and therewith 'being'. The corseted body hindered many women to do, literally being laced into a cocoon that would dictate their existence and development (bodily as well as mentally). This idea of restriction was also based on the gaining knowledge about the working of our bodies. More importantly: what is and is not good for you. Arguably the corset -as later turned out- wasn't that good for you either, but neither was being obese.


In the second half of the 19th century the idea of 'spare time' became more frequent, which was being filled (by the rich) with active or sporty activities. Vigarello: "Silhouettes became thinner in the second half of the nineteenth century, and treatments for obesity become more numerous. The multiplication of pastimes, the new attention to the self, and the revolution in medical knowledge were all factors." This not only changed the customs of dress and the reorganization of (private) living spaces, but also had a very big influence on the form of the body, more importantly: the way of perceiving and judging bodily forms. Women, more than before, were being labelled as fat or obese, most probably because of the changing of silhouettes and the increasing attention this gathered in the media and society overall. And therewith the 'explosion' of media -especially mass media- coverage and the way this has/does influence the way we perceive others, ourselves and 'the (female) body' in general.


More changes challenged society to which dress -and therewith the body- 'needed' to respond to. Think for instance Feminism where -in the first wave- the fight for the right to vote and work was provoked and eventually gained. Although it must be noted that the lower class women already did work and so the latter being a wish that rather reflects the middle- to upper class women. The same women who are thus trapped in corsets and couldn't move, and were -at that point through their body- unable to work. This thus meant a change in dress and therewith -again- a change in body. However: although the corset made its way out of the closet and jeans slowly made their way into the daily wardrobe, the idea of self-control stayed hanging. According to Vigarello the transformation of the status of women even heightened the expectation of control and affirmation of self, bringing a 'new thinness' and an obsession with health and especially youth.

Since the 1960s people that are overweighed or obese have doubled, mostly in and around Western-Europe and Northern-America. We tend to eat more and 'fatter' food than our ancestors, but the (feminine) body ideal is a reflection of thinness and even becomes thinner during the 20th century. The hourglass shape (obtained by wearing corsets) stayed 'in fashion' or desirable up to the 1980s, when in reaction to the socalled 80's Super models, who were "beautiful in an alien sort of way", came the Waif or 'heroin chic' figure in the spotlight.** This 'new body' is still predominant in today's society, more over: in today's media coverage and use.


Through globalisation I think the image of 'the woman' and the body that should be obtained with it is bigger -as well as thinner- than ever before (i.e. everyone gets 'confronted' with this image of how you should look more frequently and perhaps even more obtrusively). The spread of one ideal that what must be obtained and controlled is more present than ever thanks to the internet, and especially social media.*** The need to control over oneself is perhaps even heightened by the (social) power of social media. As Kasey L. Serdar states in the article Female Body Image and the Mass Media: "The media is littered with images of females who fulfil these [mainly ultra-thin] unrealistic standards, making it seem as if it is normal for women to live up to this ideal. (...) Research has repeatedly shown that constant exposure to thin models fosters body image concerns and disordered eating in many females. Almost all forms of the media contain unrealistic images, and the negative affects of such idealistic portrayels have been demonstrated in numerous studies." However it must be stated that there are numerous developments -or at least voices are being raised- about the diversity of models within the portrayel of fashion shows, but also media coverage and advertisements.


In The Metamorphoses of Fat, Georges Vigarello says that not only fat became equal to no power but also -as stated above- to ugliness. Around the second half of the 19th century "[a]esthetics grows definitively dominant, and people become supremely alert to ugliness." Ugliness became the earliest concern, which makes me question about the relationship between ugliness, power and wealth (and most predominantly the reflection of this through the body or the depiction of the body -or naturally the way we perceive a body, say: a portrait of a woman painted in the 17th century opposed to a portrait of today used in an advertisement). In caricatures -as Vigarello gives examples of- fat became 'greedy', 'unfair' and 'lazy' while at the same time -when brought in context with the poor- fat became seen to ask compassion for the 'fattened-pig' that's being made ready for slaughter (by the fat rich pigs naturally). Fat became conflicted, but ugliness didn't, while the two became synonymous for one another. Thereby it's now interesting to see the many discussions raised past fashion weeks about the 'crave' for more diversity on the catwalk (and -again- in media coverage in general). This not only based on skin colour, but also on body shape.**** I'm wondering how much this concept or idea of 'fat = ugly = powerless' still plays a role or in what ways it's being looked upon within/outside the (fashion/media) industry and naturally its receivers (us) now. Basically: has anything changed?

Love,
Dominique


*Corsets were already worn before the 19th century, however the shape and material of the corset has changed throughout the years, making them -with the fashion of the time- heavier and sturdier. As the V&A Museum states [here]: "As the skirts became narrower and flatter in front more emphasis was placed on the waist and hips. A corset was therefore needed which would help mould the body to the desired shape."
**Coming soon(ish): a blogpost discussing the 'heroin chic' look... keep your eyes peeled!
***That's to say: it's not wrong to be 'part of' the ideal norm, but it's wrong because there's just one very VERY dominant ideal norm that's being pushed to the limits. No shaming girls who do or don't conform the norm.
****Also coming soon(ish): a blogpost about racism in the fashion industry. I'd already written a short blogpost concerning the topic [here], but this one is going to be bigger (and hopefully) better...

What I'm wearing: Blouse - Dyanne / Skirt - Vanilia / Coat - Primark (old) / Shoes - H&M (old) / Hat - Vintage / Bag - Charity Shop /
Sources: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / And: The Story of Art by E.H. Gombrich, The Anatomy of Dress by C. McDowell, The Metamorphoses of Fat by G. Vigarello, The Exquisite Slave by H.E. Roberts

I'm going to argue that the word 'creativity' and the word 'fuck' can be seen (and perhaps used) as synonymous to one another. Mind you, not literally in the definition-sense of the word, but literally seen from a symbolic point of view.

Creativity is a funny little word. It can be used in almost every context, every landscape it encounters -and therewith being anything but little. A bit like the word fuck (with emphasis on 'a bit'), creativity and its many appearances (i.e. from being creative to actually creating something) can become meaningless over time and still bear so much significance with it. As demonstrated by the many ways fuck can be used within a sentence (e.g. "Fuck is probably the only fucking word that can be put every fuckingwhere and still make fucking sense", to demonstrate: "fuck you, you fucking fuck"), rarely actually meaning or directly referring to the act of, well, fucking, but -as we all mostly understand when being confronted with it- as a swear word. And in some cases the word fuck is just being used to fill up an otherwise empty space.


It's on the internet where the most important questions are being asked. Hugo -if that's his real name- wondered if there's "a succinct word for the 'itch' to do something creative? For example having a niggle in your brain where only doing something creative can make it go away?"

And it's also on the internet where the most valuable suggestions are being given to answer these questions. So, is there a word for the urge to do something creative? Well... : Procreative, insanity, inspiration (although the submitter thinks that it's a different idea, rather something that leads to the urge of doing something creative), stricken by the muse, creative drive, creative frenzy or variations on that with fervor and fever, creative impulse, the more poetic creative stir, which leads us almost inevitably back to just creative urge. It's in the question, really.


So is there a succinct word for the 'itch' to do something creative? Well, not really would be my answer. It all depends on how you approach this creative drive in the first place. The actual question that needs to be asked first might not be the word we're looking for, but the definition we attach to it. As FumbleFingers (lovely username) rightfully stated: "Define 'being creative'. How does the urge to be creative differ from a more general urge to do something?" You've got me there, FumbleFingers! So what's the distinction between the 'creative process' and the 'doing process'?


Believe it or not, but there's no one who's come up with a 'doing process'. Yet. Yes, 'to do' is often being mentioned within other processes or cycles (for instance: Kolb's learning cycle, to do: learning by experience). You could say that doing therefore can be seen as a step to get closer to something, but not the actual goal to achieve (tell that to all us procrastinators... *sigh*). You can show your creativity through doing something. Knitting a jumper, writing a book or idk painting chewing gum. "What's important is the creative process", said the chewing gum painter, but not a word is being spoken about the actual 'doing'. Because -and this is my guess- the 'doing' part is often being included within the idea of the 'creative process', it's part of it -by doing you 'visualize' the creativity (which can lead you to painting chewing gum).


There are however surprisingly (or better said: suprisingly to me) a lot of different cycles of creativity. It apparently happens to be a vivid research topic -or better said: research question- within philosophy, psychology and most probably some other subjects ending with -y. To get a good idea of creativity, we'll be needing some definitions... Within defining the definition of creativity, there's a distinctive difference made between 'creativity' and 'creative thinking'. The two are definitely linked to one another and one could claim intertwined, but they aren't the same thing. Or at least, they can be seen as two separate -yet intertwined- things (confusing, I know).


Both definitions are very similar. Both say that creativity produces something 'which did not exist before' and is thus 'original'. In the first definition there's no talk about how this is being done and emphasis on the result of creativity, namely 'a product, a process or a thought'. The second definition does state that creativity is made out of 'imagination' and 'original ideas' which 'especially' leads to 'the production of an artistic work'. Or maybe it's even the basis of the production of an artistic work. Artistic work thus can't be made without creativity. Which makes you wonder what 'artistic' actually entails, according to Google:


Which brings us to art:


As I stated earlier, the visualization or the actual imaging of 'creativity' is blindly seen as being part of the 'creative process'. Creativity produces a product, process or thought which is being shown through the making of something -most probably art or artistic. Important to note are the different uses of creativity ('creative skill', 'creative activity') which makes the art/artistic products. And therewith not to forget the most overpowering word: imagination.

(last definition most definitely being the most accurate yet most unexplanatory definition ever. What's imagination? That's when you imagine things. Seriously?).

Am I the only one who feels like walking in circles?


May it be clear that creativity in this sense is mostly seen from an active point of view. Creativity is seen as being part of producing something (through actually doing something to imagining something -which is essentially doing something but not visualizing it -to some extent). I personally think that being creative doesn't necessarily always have to be dependend or meaningful when it's actually 'performed' or 'done'. You can also be creative in a more passive manner, where there doesn't need to be a process going on of actually making this creativity visible in anyway (mental creativity is still creativity, right?!). And that's where the 'creative thinking' comes in.


Sounds familiar, right? Creative thinking has many similarities to the above mentioned words and definitions (especially imagination). Creative thinking isn't necessarily been made 'public' through visualization -however according to the first definition of creativity, this also doesn't always have to be the case in that sense (creativity can be shown through thoughts). Central to creative thinking however is the 'merging of ideas'...


Important within this definition are the words 'suggestion' and 'possible'. It's a sign of uncertainty. It's just an idea, it's just something that came from my imagination, creative thinking, a thought. Which can bring us to creativity and therefore perhaps the creation of art or something artistic, but doesn't necessarily have to. So the difference between the urge of just 'doing' and 'being creative' is that the one is part of the other. Doing is part of being creative, creating thereby being directly linked to that 'process' (however, as you can see in the definition below, without the pressure of it needing to be original or it relying on imagination).



Love,
Dominique


What I'm Wearing: Blouse - Made by me / Skirt - Jil Sander / Bag - Vintage / Necklace: Vintage / Belt: Gift from my aunt / Hat - Primark (old) / Shoes - H&M (old) /
Sources: 1 / 2 / 3 / 

As famously sung by Freddie Mercury: "Is this the real life? Or is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality." But what is he on about? What is 'reality'? Well, reality comes from the Latin realitas, meaning 'relating to things'. Today reality is mostly defined as "the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them." Fantasy thereby naturally being this idealistic or notional idea, "the faculty or activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable." However is there more to reality than it just being the opposite of fantasy? Well, yes. In this short post I'd like to discuss the reality, with help from Donna Haraway's A Cyborg Manifesto, using the novel Mrs Dalloway and the brand Dolce & Gabbana as examples.

Mrs Dalloway is the third novel written by Virginia Woolf (1882-1941). It was published in 1925 and uses 'stream of consciousness', which is a particular narrative mode -better known as interior monologue. In the novel you hop on and off the characters and thereby you hop on and off their perspectives, background and general 'being'. At every turn you see the world through the eyes of a particular character. Therewith not only the exterior features of 'a sunny day in June', but their thoughts, feelings and -thus- inner consciousness are being displayed on paper. A reality of their own is being created, but together these realities make the story and give you a roundabout impression of perhaps the reality. Together these streams of consciousness gives you -as an outside party, someone who can hold these thoughts, these realities, together and compare them- a grand overlook in how they are tied together, differ or overlap (and therewith -again- creating perhaps the reality).


This same notion is being raised by Donna Haraway, who's among many other things a Distinguished Professor Emerita in the History of Consciousness Department at the University of California. She's best known for her essay A Cyborg Manifesto, first published in 1985. In this essay Haraway uses the example of the cyborg to get her point on Socialist-Feminism across. The main idea behind this essay is how information technologies produce real and material effects. This is partly based on the Postmodern idea (most notably put forward by French Philosopher and Cultural Theorist Jean Baudrillard) that at the end of the twentieth century a socalled 'hyperreality' has been manufactured. Hyperreality is the "inability of consciousness to distinguish reality from a simulation of reality, especially in technological advanced Postmodern societies. Hyperreality is seen as a condition in which what is real with the world and what is fiction seamlessly blend together so that there is no clear distinction between where one ends and the other begins." Within this hyperreality reproduction and representation are being replaced by simulation. The difference being that repreduction/representation are referencing to something real, a 'truthful' account, while simulation is an endless chain of 'representation of representaion', something that 'stands on its own', it doesn't need real objects or a real world (thanks to -according to Baudrillard- digital technologies). So within this Postmodern view, there's no such thing any more as the reality.


However, as Haraway argues, this way of thinking undermines for instance the fight for equal rights. Because if it's just a 'representation of representation', there's nothing you can do about it, there's no core, no reality to 'go against' or to work with. So, as demonstrated by Virginia Woolf 60 years before, Haraway states that by being aware of our limitations within our use of language, allowing ourselves to see things 'through different eyes' (quite literally within the narration of Mrs Dalloway), show how our perceptions and views are bound to us, and by then to compare all these different accounts, you create mutual recognition -and therewith you create reality. These differences in perspective is very meaningful and thereby -when looking at the paradoxes- can be the truth, the reality.

This is best demonstrated when, within Mrs Dalloway, the characters Septimus Warren Smith and his wife Lucrezia are sitting on a bench in the park. Both experience a different reality through their perspectives. Spetimus is haunted by hallucinations of his dead friend Evans and is talking to himself, while Lucrezia is drowning in her sorrows -because of the mental state of her husband ("But for herself she had done nothing wrong; she had loved Septimus; she had been happy; she had a beautiful home, and there her sisters lived still, making hats. Why should she suffer?"). An extra dimension is being added when another character looks upon the couple from a distance and therewith we as a reader are taken away into his stream of consciousness ("And that is being young, Peter Walsh thought as he passed them. To be having an awful scene - the poor girl looked absolutely desperate - in the middle of the morning. But what was it about, he wondered; (...) The amusing thing about coming back to England, after five years, was the way it made, anyhow the first days, things stand out as if one had never seen them before; lovers squabbling under a tree; the domestic life of the parks."). Peter Walsh creates a different reality around 'this couple' according to his interpretation, you might say view, on the events played before his eyes. His stream of consciousness differs immensely from that of either Septimus or Lucrezia. However compared to one another they create a reality, perhaps the reality within this threesome.


A similar notion can be applied to the (seasonal) collections of brands, where multiple designs and sometimes literally multiple faces (think about the many models walking the catwalk or are used as image within promotion material), can -together- present one thought/message/idea. Together they are the creation of the reality of a brand/designer. You could even say that through simulation they create representation. From multiple points of views based on each other, they (try) to create one vision, one reality set within the world (or reality) of the brand.

A brand, one could say, has an overall reality. The collections are part of this, they are the storyline. The storyline further creates or demonstrates this reality. Like in Mrs Dalloway: The brand is the narration, the novel seen as a whole, and the interior monologues are the collections. All the collections together create the narration, create the story. However a novel is something that gets to be read and therewith -according to Roland Barthes- is no longer under the control of the author (and in this sense, no longer under control of the brand/designer). "The birth of the reader must be at the cost of the Author." However, as Barthes also suggests, meaning can be 'disentangled'. And so, by disentangling the different meanings, perspectives of the many ways one can 'read' a collection (and therewith the brand), comparing them to one another, we can find the reality of that brand.


Take for instance Dolce & Gabbana. On their website they state that the brand represents: "A style that expresses new forms of elegance, presenting itself as a modern classicism, based on superior sartorial content and creativity." Most notably they put emphasis on the importance of 'the roots' of the brand: "(...) Strong innovation with the Mediterranean flavour of its origins. A brand whose essence lies in its contrasting features." This can clearly be seen in the topics (or inspirations) the brand uses when creating their collections. The Winter 2016 Women's Fashion Show evolved around The Mother, "the heart of the family", based upon the designers' own childhood memories, but from an aesthetic point of view. This further elaborates itself with the campaign #DGFamily, with the tagline "The family is our point of reference." Online family portraits are being shared using the hashtag and adding the Dolce & Gabbana emblem.

Naturally it could be said that this is just a marketing tool. However by creating this collection with this campaign (which I believe is still ongoing), they create a storyline, an internal monologue, that's being read by a lot of people. Interpreted by a lot of people. Creating an active participation within their reality (they took the time to make a family portrait, log in on the website and share this portrait with the Dolce & Gabbana emblem). This reflects back on the brand and their reality (or the reality they want the be associated with). Similar images have been reproduces within the promotion material for the brand. Indeed therewith most probably making a 'representation of representation' -the average notion of 'family'-, but therewith also reflecting a 'truth' or 'reality' not only based on the #DGFamily project, but on the actual meaning of family seen from multiple perspectives (and maybe even defining what family does or does not mean within this reality).


So it could be said that reality vs representation is rather a collaboration than a battle. A way to get to the reality is to be aware of the many perspectives one something can be seen or experienced. Again: Septimus Warren Smith's reality of sitting on a bench in a park in London, Lucrezia's reality of sitting on a bench in a park in Londen, Peter Walsh's of seeing two people sitting on a bench in a park in London and the actual reality that's been created through these different points of views. Or: the average notion of family, the average notion of family within the context of #DGFamily and the reality of family created through these -different- notions of family (and therewith defining family in the first place).  
There's no escape from reality.

Love,
Dominique


What I'm wearing: Salopette - Made by me / Blouse - Made by me / Hat - Primark (old) / Shoes - H&M (old) / Doll - Made by me /
Sources: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / And: Mrs Dalloway by V. Woolf, A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist-Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century by D. Haraway, Postmodernism, Indie Media, and Popular Culture by L. Cartwright & M. Sturken