shall i introduce myself again?

{ i m a g e s o u r c e : u n k n o w n }

I had unofficially gone on a brief hiatus; perhaps it wa unfair of me to leave for two weeks without a warning – but I have do have a viable reason for my absence here. La Couturier will always be my one and only – it was here where I began, where I was given so many opportunities, and it is here is I will faithfully stay. Thank you to all who sent me e-mails asking about my well-being and for posts to continue; it truly means so much to me knowing that there are those out there who not only take the time to visit this humble little spot of mine, nonetheless email me! So no worries my love, I have not abandoned this petite blog of mine!

Of course college applications and whatnot comes into play (to some extent). But the true reason behind my lack of legitimate posts  posts lies in what you would call a lack of inspiration. Actually, “lack of inspiration” is not accurate; perhaps it is misleading in describing the last two or so months since my post on the infinity of fashion.

I’ve spent the last few months re-thinking nearly everything. A re-evaluation of my self, my future, my aspirations, per say. And during this time I had (shock horror!) halted my daily dosage of Jak & Jil, Garance Dore, thefashionspot, and various other blogs of which I obsess over, and left monthly issues of magazines to gather dust upon the dresser adjacent to my bed – whilst ignoring Style.com updates of Fashion Week RTW collections. Perhaps a lack of time and re-assessment of priorities had been a factor in my perceived lack of interest. But in reality I was questioning why I loved fashion so much. Why I obsessed over designer collections. Why I wanted a job in the industry.

Was it worth it? Would I be willing to, if lucky, place myself in an industry in which superficiality would be undeniably omnipresent? (Of course I had been making generalizations at the time.) And especially in such tumultuous times, was fashion important enough to me for me to let myself be whisked away by the thought of Paris Fashion Week when so much pain, suffering, and unseen wars is occurring throughout the world? Why then, why would I choose to dream of such a path when I could be making a difference for someone?

Obviously it took me a few months to dwell on the aforementioned questions. I still had a passion for fashion, as much as I despise the phrase (it makes me think of those nose-less, bobble-headed Bratz Dollz of the early 2000’s – which brings again this superficiality into young girl’s childhood… but that would be a rant for another day), a passion stemming from reasons you could possibly define as unusual. And possibly unheard of. I digress; those few months spent contemplating and re-evaluating had been used wisely. I know I do want to be in this industry. As an individual I cannot change an entire history’s worth of established ways – but I know I want to bring to light a new perspective. Finding ways to make a difference through fashion would be far easier; fashion is undeniably universal, and it is through similarities of an entire human race through which we can achieve change. Change through advocacy, I like to say, bringing attention to the important things through the superficial. I swear it made sense in my mind.

Which brings me to last week. I picked up a copy of October’s ELLE, which I have not touched since our dear postwoman left it in the brick mailbox (and yes, I physically had to brush dust off the cover). I read it back to front, re-captivated by the beauty of the works of these artists – designers, photographers, make-up artists, editors, directors, writers, etc. And I knew then, at that moment, that this was what I wanted to do. That, and perhaps styling women and men so they can put their best face forward to exemplify who they are inside.

So let me introduce myself again.

Je m’appelle La Couturier.

Comment ça va?

♥