We've seen the ubiquitous black that has become a normality for French style (and your style, my style, every-other-human-being-out-there's style in one period of time, or probably just on a black tie occasion; no pun intended). Black is straightforward and concise, you don't even have to question its succinctness to be actually baffled by its effortlessness. Black emanates simplicity, yet it is infused with certain inexplicable complexity that allows one to radiate a certain mysterious vibe. And in order to emit such aura to attract others (or to pleasantly satisfy oneself), we consume more black till it has become inevitable in our lives. Give yourself this challenge: try not spotting black on someone's entire outfit (inclusive of arm accoutrements, shoes, bags or even hair colour). I doubt it's possible, no? If you've successfully managed to spot one, go up to them and question: "Why not black today?" It seems like no matter how humid and hot summer emits, black is still ineluctable. Black has become an indispensable part in our lives. Black is like, everything.
No wait, is it really everything?
What about the other colours? What about blues, greens, browns and hazels? Why do we repetitively consume black instead of the other array of colours that are readily available to our acquisition? Since black is a colour, or lack thereof, at the tail of the spectrum, so why do we not opt for its far end (or far front) counterpart? Aka white? Isn't white a perfect replica of black - similar in its ideology of 'lack of colour'?
Whilst black emanates the two Cs: Cool and Classy, white radiates the other two Cs: Compose and Clean. When you put on, let's say a white jumpsuit, you subconsciously happen to find yourself very composed, calm and at ease. You feel like you're together as one with serenity. You could stop by the park to listen to the birds saccharine chirps. You could even accomplish your work or task on time without being stressed for the very first time. Don't you think so?
When I speak of 'clean', I don't mean clean as in spotlessness; I meant clean cut. I think we're just naturally inclined to believe that one appears immaculate with the use of white fabrics. It's like "Oh, seems like Sally had taken a bath three hundred times since this morning." or "Clumsy Chloe didn't spill her soup today!" or "Hey, Barbara actually remembered her tampon!"
But the sad reality is that we aren't immaculate with white fabrics. We often spill ketchup on our white crisp shirt, trip over our heels and fall into a puddle of mud, having sweat stains in our underarm area (it's really inevitable during summer, right?) that eventually turned yellowish green and even carelessly perching our asses on a bench that highlighted in caps: 'DO NOT SIT, WET PAINT'. We're much more naturally inclined to ruining our white garments, especially during summer.
So why is it that white is still the perfect colour for summer? If we are constantly leading our white clothes to extinction with our perspiration and negligence, why do we still continuously acquire them? Is it our guilty pleasure? Or is it just our pleasant guilt to replenish them once we've used them out (aka destroyed and tarnished them after the second usage)? I think it's the alabaster airy fabrics that reminds us of our inner peace and pure innocence. We feel relaxed and confident that we'll conquer the world today. We feel like we're back to our gullible child-like state - that we start to believe we're all innocuous virgins.
Lol, I kid.
Why not let's start throwing away the idea of staining our shirts - especially our underarm arena - by faithfully cleansing our armpits regularly and inaugurate whites into our summer? We can always keep our blacks for winters and go: "I wanna be a virgin today!"
First look: Zara linen embellished shirt, Zara pajamas pants, Charles & Keith sandals, Monki bag and Topshop scarf.
Second look: Feist from feistheist.com shirt (hey, it draws close resemblance to "Business up the front, party at the back!"), Uniqlo shorts, Bimba & Lola espadrille sandals.
Image credits Imran
What about the other colours? What about blues, greens, browns and hazels? Why do we repetitively consume black instead of the other array of colours that are readily available to our acquisition? Since black is a colour, or lack thereof, at the tail of the spectrum, so why do we not opt for its far end (or far front) counterpart? Aka white? Isn't white a perfect replica of black - similar in its ideology of 'lack of colour'?
Whilst black emanates the two Cs: Cool and Classy, white radiates the other two Cs: Compose and Clean. When you put on, let's say a white jumpsuit, you subconsciously happen to find yourself very composed, calm and at ease. You feel like you're together as one with serenity. You could stop by the park to listen to the birds saccharine chirps. You could even accomplish your work or task on time without being stressed for the very first time. Don't you think so?
When I speak of 'clean', I don't mean clean as in spotlessness; I meant clean cut. I think we're just naturally inclined to believe that one appears immaculate with the use of white fabrics. It's like "Oh, seems like Sally had taken a bath three hundred times since this morning." or "Clumsy Chloe didn't spill her soup today!" or "Hey, Barbara actually remembered her tampon!"
But the sad reality is that we aren't immaculate with white fabrics. We often spill ketchup on our white crisp shirt, trip over our heels and fall into a puddle of mud, having sweat stains in our underarm area (it's really inevitable during summer, right?) that eventually turned yellowish green and even carelessly perching our asses on a bench that highlighted in caps: 'DO NOT SIT, WET PAINT'. We're much more naturally inclined to ruining our white garments, especially during summer.
So why is it that white is still the perfect colour for summer? If we are constantly leading our white clothes to extinction with our perspiration and negligence, why do we still continuously acquire them? Is it our guilty pleasure? Or is it just our pleasant guilt to replenish them once we've used them out (aka destroyed and tarnished them after the second usage)? I think it's the alabaster airy fabrics that reminds us of our inner peace and pure innocence. We feel relaxed and confident that we'll conquer the world today. We feel like we're back to our gullible child-like state - that we start to believe we're all innocuous virgins.
Lol, I kid.
Why not let's start throwing away the idea of staining our shirts - especially our underarm arena - by faithfully cleansing our armpits regularly and inaugurate whites into our summer? We can always keep our blacks for winters and go: "I wanna be a virgin today!"
First look: Zara linen embellished shirt, Zara pajamas pants, Charles & Keith sandals, Monki bag and Topshop scarf.
Second look: Feist from feistheist.com shirt (hey, it draws close resemblance to "Business up the front, party at the back!"), Uniqlo shorts, Bimba & Lola espadrille sandals.
Image credits Imran