Forgive me, once again, I’m a repeat offender of my favorite silhouette. And if you thought you can’t wear a crop top with a maxi skirt in the Chicago 50′s something spring, I’m here to prove you wrong. Just add a leather jacket, ankle boots, and artistic scarf, mission accomplished!
Monthly Archives: April 2013
I have been finessing the decoration of my home office. It has been an incredibly fun project and I cannot wait to share with you. In the meantime, I wanted to show you some home offices from my inspiration board. I’m looking for a touch of modern glamour as well as uniquely designed functionality, oh, and unexpected pops of color.
I love fashion because it inspires me to tell a visual tale with the routine items of everyday dressing. The functional act of clothing oneself becomes transformed with self-expression, and stories are told without words. In that same vein, fashion trends emerge as tools that confront me about the smaller facets of my identities and histories. I don’t embrace all trends, but have always loved the resurfacing of past favorites, especially when they strongly reflect an era. The mods of the 60s are among these favorites. Structural color blocking of black and white highlighted the artistic turbulence and disruptive world events that shaped my parents’ lives and thus mine. This post is my interpretation of mod with a bit more play and functionality for a day in New York City.
It was the beginning of April and New York still had me wearing tights. My legs have always been the least favorite body parts of mine and yet I’m dying to see them bare and exposed! Like I mentioned this post, yellow is my fail-safe happy solution. So what if the restrictive weather forces dark legwear, I’m bringing my favorite shade nevertheless. How about you, what do you refuse to give up despite the weather?
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My name, Anhđào, in Vietnamese, means cherry blossom. My parents named me this because I was born in November, amidst the entrance to winter. Their hope was that my arrival would quicken the cold and soon welcome the return of Spring. This may be the reason of my infatuation to the first blooms, still so timid and few, and yet emboldened enough that they outshine the still-colorless background upon our gaze. Maybe I love them because it’s not the beauty of the actual flowers, but the beauty of hope that we transfer to them, reflected back at us.
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