Vintage Cardigan (similar here, here, and here) | Noisy May Skirt (similar here and here) | Asos Pumps (similar here and here) | Vintage Bag (similar here and here) | Forever 21 Necklace (similar here, here and here)
I met a wall in Seville. A modest wall. It belonged to the baroque Capilla de San Jose, Calle Jovellanos 10. The chapel had a lot of elaborate and eloquent details, but the wall didn’t say much. Its only words were cracks and scars, peeling paint, blots and stains. And that was what I fell in love with.
One questioning glance from my side was enough. The wall started glowing in the afternoon light, showing the glory of its imperfection, throwing off the seeming blandness and predictability of its daily appearance. It turned into a singer or a dancer who invited me for a duet. In the back of my mind I heard the words of Ben Okri: “Where there is perfection there is no story to tell.” The wall had many stories to tell. In short, I couldn’t resist the opulence of so much imperfection and took part in the duet. What do I need to say more? Look at the wall. Listen to its stories. And lend your ear to my cardigan. The Ben Okri quote applies to it as well. It’s another family treasure, at least forty years of age and laundry shrunk it to two thirds of its original size. Do not laugh at the short sleeves. Its flaws give it a novel shape and beauty that make it the equal of any creation in the collections of my favourite designers.
Hope you hear our song. Hope you enjoy our dance.
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