Inspired by the lack of daily intellectual activity and the pile up of thoughts and ideas in my rather creative head with the limited information storage space (and probably inability to find a person who would be willing to hear all of the above, other than my boyfriend who doesn't count as he has no other choice)I decided to start writing this blog. This way, I can bother all of you willing to read it, with my daily dilemmas, worries and observations.

So,today, on my day off work I woke up 100% PMSal ready to scream at, cry to and complain to the first person I see, as my boyfriend ran out to work before I fully regained my conscious my first victim was my mother. Which is great since she must always understand and forgive, she has to! That's her "mother duty"-Mother's Law 1252.1 :"Never take anything your PMSal daughter saids to heart".

Next, I talked to my GF and BFF, we discussed rather important issues with finalizing her wedding plans and she educated me on "The American Weeding Traditions" which are soooo damn confusing! Gosh!!!! I miss Croatian good old "cash in the envelope" kind of gift giving.

As I finished my conversation I finally started reading Teri Agins's "The End of Fashion" and sinfully indulged in my 654 Calorie Grande Fat Free Pepermint Mocha (God Bless Starbucks on the first day of PMS and damn you New York City officials for showing the calorie count in my face).

Recently, I started to research fashion history and fashion business to help me decide if I should go to fashion graduate school or not. So far, the more I read the more I am realizing that my view of fashion is very naive and romantic. I have been living in an "isolated bubble".
In my little bubble, fashion is still painfully gorgeous, impractically fabulous and totally unwearable, and I love it like that! I seem to be one of a dying kind. I learned that those who would agree with my views and who would share my mindset died in 60's (Dior, Chanel) or are alive but severely drugged and medicated (but still very successful) and have no connection to the reality what so ever (John Galliano).

Please don't get me wrong, I am not comparing myself with their geniusness but simply realizing that I myself think of fashion garment as little pieces of art, rather that a pieces of fabric stitched together by a 10 year old factory worker in China. As Teri Agins realistically noted the fashion has ended as it existed before and became a mass-pleasing part of entertainment industry :(

Obviously, I have just started reading this book but I am hungrily turning its pages, praying to find a thread of hope to grip on, hoping to learn that it is not all about money and catering to couture illiterate sloppy dressing masses and that there is still interest in fashion in form it has once existed: exclusive, reserved for sizes 6 and under ,fabulous, expensive, glamorous, uncomfortable and painful to wear but stunning to look at and a privilege to wear.