Sunday, August 11, 2013

stop n' frou-frou

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2013 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2013 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


Now and again, you spot 'em.  He may be a retro-as-metro dandy; she is oft mistaken for a stylist - fired - from the set of Mad Men.  She, quasi-contrarily, is an insular poet with a insouciant approach to fashion that inadvertently inspires.  

Either one happens upon a vintage scrap - not a rind, gnawed - but a few loose strings seeking conclusive expression.  What to do when one is too cosmopolitan to care all that much?  How does style present?  It tends to lay back - cool - and settle in the skin of those who are mindful of their flare as a way to care.  Oomph is altruistic.  The same hand that gesticulates a substantive word is quick to commit some random act of chic.  Can a hand be relentless in its grasp for Beauty - any and everywhere?  'Arms race'.  Two limbs stop...to observe their own ethos.  They itch when in need of edge.  'Armed', one can sense when accessorizing is in order.  

Wrists, in particular?  In surreal political solidarity, one dares to find the aesthetic 'order' in a cuff.  "Tu chez", any sadomasochist gentlesoulfolk are inclined to utter - if they are not presently melon ball-gagged. 

                                                                                                                                                                  © 2013 KM Fikes        
Law n' order.  Stop n' fashion.

Beauty is truth because it cuts thru chaos.  From yon nebula, Beauty extracts form.  Would that frisky justice could make the same claim.  Beauty endows all six senses with the unique authority to assemble.  This synthesis exposes the elemental.  Style - when in resistance to fad - is autonomy.  Not luxury, but necessity, Beauty is our authenticity manifest.  Our core is never a blank canvas.  Free, it...be...as the interstellar, kinetic (ink)well or gravitational center of creativity.  Art, ironically enuf, is Order - far mo' sensual than sensical.  Restoration of what is most primal then glimpses The yet possible.  Thaz da exercise of right to Art.  William Calgreve's 'orderly' take?

"Music has charms to soothe a savage breast."

                                                                                                                                                        © cmyprims.blogspot

How much one regrets that our cuff's cotton is neither bullet-proof nor taser-repellent.  H2Oweaponized fabrication would far betta assist those 'SWOE of Gotham or Paradise(Long)Island.  Oh, uh...'SWOE? Thanks so for asking:
Stolling Whilst Other-ed Ethnic. 

 
                                                                                                                                                                                        © CBS
Lynda Carter as 'sMarvel Comics' Wonder Woman 
AMBASSADOR of Themyscira
a.k.a. Paradise Island, home to Amazons 
                                                                                   
Why the apostrophe befo' "S"?  

...'swonderful, 'smarvelous...'swoeful

One's still-let-Oh's are tied to replicate the traditional knot of Mammies' checkered kerchief chapeaus.  Why veer now from haute history?  Our cuff follows suit.


The 'outer' melon's green-striped skin is cut to approximate the length of 'Onassis' gloves - midway upon the forearm. 


The accessory-end-all of etiquette was made famous by a First Lady whom epitomized ornamental 'order' to a generation that hosted the Civil Right's Movement.  Canine 'units' ripped at grandma-stitched hems of Sunday best skirts as Oleg Cassini couture was modeled by one of high society's last heroines.  It whiplashes bateau necklines and disslocates Gaze - does it not - when societal order is H2Ohosed and egged by its own Fabergé-imitated fragility?  The Bouvier side of the fam ingratiated 'Merican lore with a glamorous finale as timely as timeless.  Post-Gatsby ostentation reflected post-Fitzgerald, bootlegged aspiration.  The Kennedy White House defined an era's aesthetic.  The tone was taste.  Camelot refined it, from imported hangers - in its closets - to Scalamandré drapery deemed inferior to frame its view.  Lil' surprise that the wardrobe for defense of mid-century mobility remains The standard.  Who would remain the exclusively attired aristocracy and who would be granted the opportunity for acquisition?  On n' up, we do quest.  Nevadaless, culture shocked a condensed decade wherein the white, kid leather glove of debutantes bowed to the black fist-ed glove of Other-ed Ethnic 'Power'.   

                                                                                                                                                                              © AP
1968 Summer Olympics, Mexico City
Gold -Tommie Smith, Bronze - John Carlos, Silver - Australian Peter Norman 'sporting' a solidarity badge. 
Badge - OPHR, Olympic Project for Human Rights  


At the time, unlike Eleanor Roosevelt **, Jacqueline-then-Kennedy found Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. to be "phony" and "tricky".  From those transcripts, one is relieved to report no use of the loaded charge: "uppity".  Ms. Kennedy's 'prism' was ostensibly proof of J. Edgar Hoover's tentative momentum in discrediting both man and movement.  These ill-begotten efforts by the FBI Director proved - eventually - for naught; Ms. Kennedy reconciled with the King Family.  Following JFK's funeral, howeva, a grieving Jacqueline Kennedy communicated her revulsion at glancing upon MLK's photo.  Her evolution to admiration is a testament to much.  

Just how much?  One writes presently - and past - of our infinite, internal space.  It seeks it own expansion to reveal itself once healed and thus, wholly beautiful.  The transition speaks well for the First Lady, herself.  Mo' so?  Her growth is quite a rare, public sample of humanity's inclination towards what is least celebrated yet most elegant in our nature - humility.  Few allow the ego of righteousness to be thrown down like a Musketeer gauntlet.  Is one ever more polished then when one is donned - head to toe -  in nuttin' but pillbox-ed-topped, pearl-stranded, kitten-heeled, brutal beauteous honesty?

One's own humbled estimation of Ms. Kennedy's most elegant aesthetic turn?  Just hours into widowhood, reportedly her aids and even Vice President Johnson encouraged her to change out of her blood-spattered, pink Chanel suit.  To Camelot's last breath, somehow, she managed to abide by that ethos of its costume department: eva astonishingly apropos.  De rigueur has never been in finer form - so defiant.  Her reply to all concerned with 'appearance'? 


  "Let them see what they've done."
 

To her credit, in 2011, First Daughter, author, esquire, philanthropist, poetry advocate, post-figure of Senatorial speculation, and current Presidential nominee for Japanese Ambassadorship, Caroline Kennedy released these controversial tapes.  Recorded in 1964, that soft voice of the über-private, late First Lady can now be heard - in acerbic critique - for all to hear and judge upon their own accord.  What trust her child has placed in the collective discretion of the unwashed mass.  

Caroline Kennedy's choice was an exceptionally generous vote of confidence in an aware citizenry.  Her bravery required some modicum of belief in a certain level of societal sophistication.  Yo, Lincoln also opined da contradiction of a nation's conscience.  The deeper the nuance, the wider the arc of our conviction.  Rising to the occasion is, perhaps, less innate to character than a feat - sum'in to accomplish.  Whom amongst us cannot count inner hurdles to jump, bridges to cross, and winding, unpaved roads to traverse?  This is the complicated - shared - journey prior to reaching our higher grounding.  Flawed humanity offers a more (w)holistic portrait of and appreciation for authentic leadership - of country, family, or Self.  The myth of iconoclasts - setting trend or law - who would be canonized, daresay, 'cuffs' or 'arrests' any cultured development.

Truth?  Beauty! 

To the last, living member of Camelot?  A fabric, cuffed, fist bump...  

                                                                                                                            © 2013 KM Fikes     
...along with all-due post-props, dissOrientalized dap, and mad melon-ups for keepin' it real a la H2Omeloncholy.   

**
http://h2omeloncholy.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-lady-first.html  

P. S.  
If confirmed as 'Merica's Ambassador to Japan, might the official travel itinerary happen to coincide with a Densuke auction?  Can ya dig it, my good peops?  Fo'sooth, 'twould prove a most surreal, diplomatic coup of melon proportions.  Details attached:   
http://h2omeloncholy.blogspot.com/2013/07/waiting-for-gourdoh.html

a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of
POSTness 

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...

© 2013 KM Fikes 
© 2013 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


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