In the morning as I had my cup of coffee, I was wowed over by the beauty of words, as I have posted previously. I then pondered over the different levels of intellect, for a lack of better word, between the fashion and publishing industries.
Both industries require a certain eye for beauty that can be acquired and developed over a period of time, and both are commercialized industries of unique, albeit differing, art forms.
Similarities aside, however, the differences list now start to accumulate endlessly. For one, there is always a kind of superficiality that comes with the word ‘fashion’, something that seems to almost never happen if you tell someone that you’re a writer, or a publisher, or an editor, instead of a designer or a stylist.
The question then lies with being a fashion editor. (Ah, see what I did there!) They sit at the top of the fashion hierarchy, and dictate to the average human mind the trends that we as normal humans should wear this season. They earn themselves a comfortable amount each month, and go on to splurge on the superficial, which, to the industry, is perfectly justifiable of course, as fashion is an art form of self expression every individual partake in, consciously or not.
While being a victim of ‘fashion’, as pretty dresses and hair trends never fail to keep my heart and mind interested, I find my soul slowly realizing the art of fashion slavery. It drains you out and forces you to question everything about consumerism and commercialism. You start to see things from different points of views, to start doubting every marketing slogan spoken to your face, questioning the concept behind every fashion shoot in a magazine that arrives in your hands.
Since being in fashion for so long, the word irks me, even. It’s irks me the same way my artist friend hates the word ‘art’. The amount of inevitable stereotyping that comes with these words are just too unjustifiable for what we as fashion designers or artists feel is ‘work’. I can go on and on about the challenges that comes with being in the fashion industry, but that shall be saved for another post.
In the meantime I find myself constantly going back to the comfort of words. The power that language has is unfathomable. The way these paragraphs form a bed and blanket, while sentences hug me and tuck me in, the way these letters kiss me goodnight and alphabets twinkle out like stars as my eyes close and mind drifts into the night.