Evolutionary fashion

This morning I read an article on 'The Daily Beast' titled: 'Fashion's Arab Spring' about my favorite designer of the moment, Haider Ackermann. I read more about him and his life. And then I understood why I feel such resonance with him. He was born in Colombia (where I grew up for several years of my childhood, in Bogota), and he was brought up by French parents, and then proceeded to live all over the place. My parents weren't French, my father Dutch and my mother English, but we did live all over the place, including Iran. (this is back in the fifties!) So I have things in common with his background. But apart from that, I am an advocate of being free to be who you are, 

and enjoying your beauty and sensuality.

His work is about freedom. Freedom to envelope your body in beautiful draping fabrics, freedom to be feminine without having to display your body packaged and bound up so tight, layers of stiffening and hype, your flesh sort of squeezes out of the gaps, and you can't breathe, you can't walk properly, because you should done have a course on stilt walking before wearing those shoes, which may make you feel tall and powerful, but compromise your back, and your natural rhythm, and actually disconnect you from your real power, that of being a woman standing on Earth now, in these times. How can this be 'cool' or 'hot'? You're not free to just enjoy and revel in the beauty of being in a feminine body, who's natural rhythm is like that of nature, sensual and gracefully shifting between spaces, the senses alive and open.

an ode to Matisse's dance

I first saw this painting 'in-the-flesh', when I visited MOMA in NYC in 1999. I didn't expect to be quite so profoundly thrown and moved...It was a painting I had often soaked in from reproductions in books and on posters. It is so very famous. When I was a child, I thought it might be some kind of tarot card, its magical impact on my psyche had already begun by the time I was about eleven, when I saw a book my aunt, the Dutch sculptor, Katinka van Rood-Bruin, had in her Amsterdam studio.  

Her brother, my father had died just months before, and that day my heart was aching and heavy with grief.  So when I stood in front of this work, the tears flooded and I had to take deep breaths so that I didn't wail with passion and emotion. I was in front of it for about half an hour. All the wonderful works in that Museum were calling me, their voice faint and easily put on hold while Matisse's dance and I communed. 

I felt so deeply held and healed by the Spirit of this extraordinarily rhythmic and beautiful work.