I hope everyone here had a great Easter. It has been a while since I last blogged. I have so many half-finished entries, which I could almost fill a shipping carton with. Insane, no?
This morning, I woke up at around mid-day. Frankly, this is a common occurrence these days, but what was not so usual this time around is that I actually have a concrete reason to blame on justify for other than the usual excuse of “Oooooo… I am soooooo tired!”.
Voila!
It was all because of Riccardo Tisci – the ingenious creative director behind the Parisian label “Givenchy” a.k.a. man of my dreams.
Riccardo Tisci - Power Man of my Dreams
I dreamt that I was front row at Mr. Tisci’s latest Prêt-à-Porter show for Givenchy and ohhh… you would not believe how intense his runway presentations are, with particular reference to the progression of the show and the complexity and creativity behind its conceptualisation as well as its precision in execution. What an experience? I breathed every minute of it.
Natasha Poly – Woman of my dreams?
Ethereal Beauty - Russian model Natasha Poly
What was for me the climax of the presentation is the finalé of the show, which consisted of the projection of the Russian model Natasha Poly’s image onto the ceiling of the showroom [1]. As Ms. Poly’s arms and body move in unison, like a slithering snake, against the background of the blue sky complete with white fluffy clouds, the audience could not help but all gasped in unison as an utter sign of admiration for such a display of absolute ethereal beauty.
Honestly, I have never thought or even dreamt of dreaming of Ms. Poly – simply because we have a long-standing unresolved love-hate relationship [2]. I always thought it is all because of our small age difference. That means I can worship models, whom have a relative age gap with me, i.e. everything positive is satisfactory, while negative difference must be of a magnitude of at least 5 months.
As a result, with Ms. Poly (b. 1985) being circa two months younger than me and already one 30-cm ruler taller, more beautiful and more successful than me in life; jealousy and aggression counteract like a natural phenomena, whenever I see the striking Russian model, but… but… but honestly how could anyone ever hate someone who is so gorgeous?
Exceptional exemption: Anja Rubik
Polish model Anja Rubik working it
Interestingly enough, this theory somehow does not seem to apply for all models with the notable exception of the polish model Anja Rubik (b. 1985). Anja is only one month younger than me and also on a similar level of success as Ms. Poly in the industry; by hook or by crook I am ok with it. Perhaps I know I will never be Polish…
Anyhow, is this one of those moments of “you know you are in love when all you dream about is that person”?
Perhaps it is time to submit to a world of Poly.
Endnote:
[1] Alexander McQueen once ended his défilé similarly with an ethereal hologram of muse Kate Moss.
[2] While my adoration for Natasha seems to be unclear and uncertain at times, I am total in love with her brothers.
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