Sunday, snowday. Perfect weather for a deep procrastinating set of activities. They used to call that a « day off », but you know… Sundays are at their best when the weather condition forces you to avoid any social endeavor outside your cave. Your distraught stare is finally legitimate, as there is no witness to bring you back to some task that needs attention. Fuck yeah, it’s Sunday. It’s cold, of course, outside. I know, I went out to get organic butter to make paleo pancakes. « What a cliche. » Tell me about it.
Hopefully -finger’s crossed- it’ll keep on super-snowing till Armory Week kicks off. Nothing makes for a better fair than unexpected meteorological disasters. Yes, disasters. ‘cause wtf is everyone gonna wear? ‘cause it’s become as important as whatever is being presented, hasn’t it? Mhm yes, yes, yes. What pair of Louboutin for the Armory, what bathing suit for Basel (in Miami, not Chocolateland.) But what’s great with the weather turning its back on your fashion grooming, is that it’ll leave you with an even better conversation starter. Duh. And don’t make that face. You know it’s true. I even do it. Sometimes. Sometimes, you have no other choice.
The one person I once ran into at the Armory’s opening night and who was the less hypocritical, believe it or not, was Ramdane Touhami. He had lost his crowd for a brief moment. He was wandering alone in an alley, looking for a face he knew. I had lost my crowd too. God dammit, I had become such an easy prey. Ramdane walks up to me, even says hello, and we walk past a couple of booths together. He says that him "coming from the ghetto" (mhm, that's a quote), he feels like that shit isn’t for him. He (sorta) giggles and adds he’s "too dumb to get it". He says he doesn’t understand any of those works. I’ll cut here. It makes for a better rhythm if I don’t add my response.
Understanding art. Understanding, period. I think, in the end, it all comes down to our basic understanding of our own little person, and our WAY bigger feelings. Art has become an adjective. Art now means good art. What’s good art, my dear? If you ask me, it will be any form of art that elicits an emotional reaction. Regardless of its position on the spectrum of pleasant/unpleasant emotion. To understand art, at a very basic level, and at a very profound one, too, you must be able to understand your e.m.o.t.i.o.n.s.
Wait, but Wait - so what do I wear in the end?