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Recently I decided that, whenever I was taking group photographs (or being photographed in a group), I would look the other person in the eye and laugh as if they’d just told the funniest joke in the world. It makes you look completely insane while the photograph is being taken, but it does make for some excellent holiday snaps. Cases in point:
D sistah et moi
D ma and d sistah
P, d sistah, et moi
Taking photographs like this also has the excellent side effect of actually making you laugh, for real.
On October 11th, 2008, The Irish Times published an article – four pages in the Saturday magazine – on the merits of graffiti, and its emergence as a form of political protest on Dublin’s streets. On October 14th, one (of many, I assume) gentleman wrote to object to the graffiti-love. “If I sneak across the road in the dead of night and spray-paint my neighbour’s house,” he asked, “am I connecting with him?” A valid point, one has to admit, when faced with statements by well-known Dublin artists who claim to be “connecting” with the city.
Here is a series of photographs of graffiti on one wall in Bologna, Italy. Does Irish graffiti really step up to the plate? (Those with corporate sponsorship need not apply. . .)
As I am unable to shop, I have been avoiding fashion magazines, fashion-related e-mails and scouring online clothing stores in an effort to wean myself off the shopping. But this weekend, in Bologna, forced to wander around H&M, Zara, Promod et al for an afternoon, taught me that I am stronger-willed than I had previously thought. And the fact is, I love fashion. There is a concern that this year of non-consumption will take that away from me, and I’d like to at least try to stay in touch with what’s au courant in the fashion world. So here is my wish list for today; these are the items that I would buy, were I able – and, in the case of the Moschino, had I won the Lotto.
Just enough whimsy
My wish list is, I should stress, mismatched; there is nothing on there that could be worn with anything else. Except, maybe, the sequinned waistcoat from Topshop and the Moschino dress, but even then I might be overdoing the detail and, although that sounds great in theory, I’m not quite sure I could pull it off.
The problem with my own personal style is that I no longer really have one. When I was younger I dressed quite punky; I wore ripped jeans with tight t-shirts, headscarves and a lot of earrings. While I’m not upset that I have abandoned this look in favour of a more neutral style, I disappoint myself sometimes by not putting in the effort. I have resolved today (as if I haven’t got enough to be doing) to attempt, for a few weeks, to live like What I Wore. I’m not going to steal her idea though; for the moment, my snaps will be my own, but I’d imagine that, if you absolutely had to document what you wore each and every day, you’d look a whole lot better than I look now, for example.
A conversation with C recently about work attire got my confused though; while I maintain that putting in an effort where you work, regardless of the job you do, will serve you well in the long run, she argued that it depends on your office. Her office, she says, is casual, so she can wear jeans and Converse and be happy in her casual cool. As far as I know, there is no dress code in my office; I started off wearing tea dresses and heels, migrated to skirts and tops and boots, and am now quite often to be found in jeans and blouses. Well, no more, I say! From here on in I shall be co-ordinated, accessorised and professional. In these straitened economic times. . . oh, sod it, I feel better when I dress up. Ain’t that the troooof.
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- Loeffler Randall boots: pricey but perfect
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- Masculine modelling
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- Kooky print, feminine styling
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- Original and best
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- Disco-casual
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- Just enough whimsy
While in the past, when my mind was still consumed with, well, consumption, I may have scoffed at the idea of going to a museum* – No, no! Let’s spend the day in Topshop Oxford Circus and pray to God that we don’t get asphyxiated by the fumes from the nail varnish counters! - in Bologna, we decided to go Mambo, the musem of modern art. It was late when we arrived – around 4pm, and we were tired and a little grumpy due to the lashings of rain that were besieging our every step. It didn’t help that every text message I received from the Emerald Isle ranted and raved about the glorious sunshine.
To be honest, I didn’t think an enormous amount of the permanent exhibition space. There was an interesting exhibition of photographs, each one depicting the site of a Mafia-related death in Italy, and there was a great paper exhibition that reminded me of the Children of the Damned; paper girls lined up in rows, staring at the site of a small paper town. Mesmerising.
There was also this.
It is a car entirely covered with shards of broken glass. If you looked closely you could see within; it was something that I imagine the late JG Ballard might have appreciated. It was hypnotic, the way the glass reflected the light and your own image, and it was eery: broken glass and motor vehicles don’t often go together in a fashion that is in any way positive, but this was quite beautiful. I’m not quite sure if it was the artist’s intention, but it definitely evoked the idea of the fragility of human life and man-made objects. To be made out of that which is unmade is quite the interesting idea to me, and the effect here was both visually and philosophically stunning.
I’d like to be able to credit the artist, so if anybody knows, please comment below; the Mambo site is taking quite a while to load for me, and they don’t seem to have credits for their permanent exhibition online.
*That was a joke; while I’m not necessarily a museum-hound, I do enjoy them if I’m in the mood and it’s not directly after a large meal.
