"Possibility isn't limited by technology. And it's certainly not limited by human imagination. What makes something impossible is the lack of cold, hard, cash." - Rob Beschizza
My beautiful and terrible best friend Kelsea-Jane introduced me to lookbook.nu, and now i have no life! As if i wasn't having trouble dressing myself already, seeing as everyone who inspires me sartorially is about 5 foot 2, size zero and has no breasts to speak of, and my 5 foot 8, size 12, boob and booty-liscious frame can't really carry off the same style. Now I have to look at cool Swedish and German people with perfect hair and impeccable fashion sense, before getting dressed into my uninspired wardrobe and facing the harsh climate of October on the south coast.
I've been obsessed with the sartorialist for some time, but that was always ok, because i knew i couldn't afford anything that those people were wearing, and if i could then it was probably being worn pre or post show by some infinitely enviable model or other. The people on lookbook are my age, sometimes even younger, and their clothes are affordable. This makes the whole thing so much worse because i know that i could get the clothes, probably the exact outfits, if i really wanted to, but where they look cool, relaxed, un-put-together and endlessly sexy, i would look like a desperate try-hard trying to dress like someone cool, relaxed, un-put-together and endlessly sexy. The distinction is obvious and very depressing.
If you're curious who i'm actually speaking about when i say these things, here's some fashion porn for you, direct from lookbook and my mildly fetishistic dreams. Enjoy.
The person who i really love, and who i check up on every day, is Nouk B. He makes a real effort with his photos, so that they do more than just showcase his amazing style. He is quite possibly the best dressed man in the entire world and i quite want to marry him. Can you blame me?