Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Tale of the Pretty in Pink Print

I come from deepest Japanese ceramics, having flirted with chinoiserie, and later dubbed a STATEMENT PRINT. My smooth leaves belied the story of the battle and scramble for light in the forest. At times, the foliage on the print was depicted as an artfully tangled mess and at other times an intense graffitti spray. Regardless of how I was described, I longed for attention. I was initially jealous of the black judo belt; its blackness a symbol of power and authority, but then decided it couldn't compete with the off the shoulder cut and wide, wide sleeves. Some people call them batwing sleeves, but I prefer them to be called ninja angel sleeves. They hide all manner of things (arms notably) and bring movement.

The colours were intense and demanding enough on their own. My owner chose the obvious contrast of dark versus light, the innocent sweetness provided by the white sandals. A heel, especially a hot pink or black heel, would want to compete with the dress, and it would lose. It also might destroy the soft femininity of the fabric which is trying hard to drape like silk, in all its fluid glory. Added jewellery would have a similar sense of tacky excess. Thus, altogether we have a pretty in pink print, suitable for a wedding, date, girls night or walk in the park. Either the birds and bees will be attracted to you, mistaking you for a bright flower, or they'll fly away, fast, as if the Increduble Hulk were being unleashed on their quiet parish.

Outfit: Pink print dress, Zara (not real silk unfortunately but reasonably priced). The most Un-Gladiator gladiator sandals, Clarks.  

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