FASHION AS SOCIAL STATEMENT

By: Iris P. Concepcion

I often wonder how creative people pluck, tweak, snatch, form their ideas out of their broiling and simmering imagination: do they experience a change of heart at a glance of conscience-laden gazes? Would they drop a color for a genuine kiddie shelter?

I have heard evil---I mean evil people---just mean-spirited, that most unique exchanges of verbal fielding---walking by with jaundice perhaps, or are just plain, itchy elbow experts.

While I was away scolding a child for not boxing her numbers rightly, I did not know a premiere fashion designer used his ramp for a clothing burst that is as passionate as two people madly in love, making out.

I encourage the denizens of this republic to read the Philippine Star Lifestyle folio of Inno Sotto's fashion show published today, December 1, 2010.

How does it feel to be validated by a rabbit? It goes with the territory. I write and the establishment of acknowledgment is both familial and proud.

But how do you react to apparels that talk?

I think when a dress can make you cry not for aesthetics but for its undercurrent symbols, a job has already been done (and exquisitely done at that).

I am glad you are standing up for the farce, the unelemental, for your craft's independence, for the inherent sanctity of mind's freedom, for that uncompromising gift of creation that could not be banged nor rowed by a roaring mob. As a famous rocket once told me:

"Just start that propeller."

In the end, we are all artists fighting for a place in an unaesthetic world. It is gregg being nodded to by extremely gorgeous people (I mean, they were born that way---they did not stay so long in sculpting areas for lifts).

At least, clothe a rugged kid in violet or green velvet. Chances are, he shall approach you. He shall give you five bucks and say:

"May I have a candy? Thank You."

One of my Dads horribly confessed one time that he feels queasy attending a fashion show.

I think he shall enjoy this one and build a factory out of the threads' inherently vibrant colors.

P.S. The dress above is a Lanvin. Also, I have always loved the wild color mixes of H&M( a spread with this dress).

P.P.S. Notice how the corn kernels are nowhere to be found in this battle: they were with me, comforting me in tears in their most ridiculous thrift shop loot. Why? They provide me a cushion to write, and write and write and write.