Girls Doing Their Thing

January 21, 2019
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Aren’t girls doing their thing the sexiest?

A girl could be wearing a robe in the streets, if she wanted to, and look super sexy. While doing her thing. Wait, don’t judge (ever anyway), just imagine. Her face super pretty (make-up, no make-up, no make-up make-up), her hair fresh (done, undone), her skin glowing, her walk that feels like dancing… And all these from underneath a robe!

As opposed to forcefully, priorly, having thought of every detail. Not trying and doing her thing versus trying and not doing her thing. At all times.

It’s, always, about the style. It’s about the style before it is about the clothes. It’s about style before it is about fashion. Style is when one is comfortable in one’s own skin. Style is both timeless and invisible or is it, precisely, because it’s timeless that it’s, also, invisible?

Style is like skin… The Skin I Live In is the translation for Pedro Almódovar’s La Piel Que Habito. It’s our skin that we live in, all of the time, hello. The skin is the largest organ in our body. Bonito, huh?

I fell asleep, the other night, watching a video of Inga, my four year old niece, dancing. Her father, my brother, filmed her and her joy was mesmerising. Her, his. I slept so good.

This past week, I saw girl friends of mine. A different one, on almost every day of the week. The discussions and moods were blissful, it was winter outside and we were in our sweaters, boots, and sneakers, oh, well, sipping tea, coffee or wine inside. It seemed so random. Now, I see that it wasn’t.

The most noteworthy of them all, however, happens to be my mom. I just had an argument with her, but it only led us to us loving and appreciating each other more, a possibility I wasn’t even aware of, but hey. Mom, I can’t love half way. I either love 1000% or I don’t at all. She didn’t put it into my words, at the time, but she raised me like that, with no words, whatsoever. It didn’t seem like a thing and it is!

Love hard or get the f*ck out! is something I heard Chris Rock saying and it’s stuck with me. The truth is sexy as f*ck. Observe the wordplay. The order of the words in the sentence. Mysterious. Words are sexy. Just as girls doing their thing are.

Two girls in a picture I bumped into made me dream. Man, do they dream or what? Those who dream by day are cognisant of many things which escape those who dream only by night is something Edgar Allan Poe said.

One is thinking her own thoughts, in her own world, casually playing with her cool feet. One is taking a picture of us. One is sitting on her trench coat, or a long jacket, or something. One is next to her backpack. One has long, luscious hair. One has a messy bun or pony tail. They seem to be holding hands even if, in fact, they are not.

It’s only now that the clothes they’re in come up. We can’t, totally, see them, yet we can feel the style they round up. Simple, sophisticated, relaxed, their own. A dark V-neck jumper, slim fit jeans, shoe-laced boots and a trench coat, or a long jacket, or something. A dark turtleneck, loose trousers, long socks, sneakers, a backpack and a camera.

Clothes are the cherries on top, are the honey in the black tea, are the good hair on #agoodhairday, are that secret smile only you know about, are your best friends when rushing out the door, are the reminders of your memories, are you!

Girls doing their thing and sharing love, without even realising, is slick!

Imagine the whole three minutes of this. Inga was wearing her pajamas.

Hey, this is Cristina Pavelescu wearing a music cassette sweater, decoding (life) style and writing from wherever, yet always living in OZ, a world I invite you into. To smile in front of our screens (and live one day), put any kind of questions, answer in writing (or imagination) and marvel at fashion which is, in fact, style.


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