Remember when I told you, back in March, that “my inner fashion-critic hasn’t died”? Well, I had in store for you a surprise to go along better with the change (removing fashion therapy from the blog).
Of course, I couldn’t stay away from this beautiful world too long. I saw inspiring outfits everywhere as well as god-awful ones and I just longed for an outlet where all my ideas, thoughts and naughty criticism could come to life. Some days after, I launched Fashion Grinch.
As the name says, it is a blog of street style humor & mistakes, as well as fashion advice. Why? Because the best way to learn is from others (and yours) mistakes, keeping in mind my motto “Style is not a gift, but a natural skill we can all master”.
Here, I write daily about fashion mishaps on the streets of Bucharest and how they should have been played out. All these daily posts are numbered (No.1, No. 13, No.22). I have one goal in mind – not to make you dress in one single way, but to help you refine your fashion style, eliminating naturally the kitsch combos. Also, I hope it makes you see fashion in a more relaxed, amusing way.
On the left side of the blog, you’ll see an animated Grinch under the “Grinch-approved” stamp. It’s not a simple GIF, but a doorway to fashion advice and inspirational outfits styled by me. So, if you click on the Grinch, you’ll see a list with my latest outfits for certain occasions. Here you have a glimpse of my creativity and personal style. I also hope it gives you an idea of how to create stylish outfits.
Below, you’ll see… Katy Perry. No, I’m not a huge fan (though her Dark Horse is really catchy), but she’s perfect for what I have in mind: StarSlap, a section where celebrities receive grades from yours truly. There’s the rare “:)” clip for those outfits that come close to what real style is, but the majority underline the lack of fashion taste and knowledge. You’ll see pictures of them with grades like “Grr” or “Ouch”.
My intention is to keep bringing you fresh, ironic, humorous content and to grow this blog into a community platform where we can all
gossip share ideas about fashion, style, beauty and everything else you want to talk about. For that, you have the FOLLOW button on the left side aaaand the Like Facebook Page.
On the Fashion Grinch FB Page, you’ll find out more about me through pics from my daily life and Grinch Tips (fashion-wise) that summarize what I’ve learned from fashion specialists and stylists. Also, I’ll be sharing there awesome links and we’ll discuss the weirdest trends and fashion happenings.
That’s about it! For now. PS: The latest posts from Fashion Grinch are available on this blog too, on the right side, under Music.
Let’s stop with the shaming, people. Be it curvy girls or thin chicks, this trend of accusing people, monitoring what they eat and the grams they’ve put on is downright sick.
With the thigh gap situation and the bikini bridge one, I thought I had seen everything. But now there’s one other reason to look in disbelief – the You Did Not Eat That movement.
An anonymous user created this controversial Instagram account where images with skinny women biting from fast food snacks or preparing to eat a hearty meal are regramed with the hashtag #youdidnoteatthat.
She or he is convinced that these are staged photos of slender women pretending to eat high-calorie foods. Because, of course, no woman with a normal weight or under it can eat like that right?!!
C’mon! This is absurd! Yes, the majority of women gain weight if they don’t stick to a diet or veggie regime. Most women spend their lives counting the calories, the desserts/icecreams/burgers/sodas/… they’ve eaten or drank in the past week.
But not all. There are skinny women who burn calories extremely fast and have the type of metabolism that allows them to look good without any effort. I have friends like that – one of them is struggling to put something on. Every meal she gets has to have some piece of meat, carbs (bread/fries/pasta), a salad and a dessert. Every meal!
I’m also a person who had the fortune, I admit, of being born with a good metabolism. One that allows me to eat everything (except rucola, i’m allergic to it)(and beets. I’m not allergic. I just hate the taste) without having to look guilty afterwards.
I’m one of the people who loves food! I can’t refuse anything Italian or Mexican, I absolutely love French pastries and I often make the mistake to eat a whole menu from a fast-food restaurant (the only thing I regret about it is the unhealthy way it’s cooked).
I can’t vouch for every skinny girl who posts images eating big amounts of food, but neither can this person who “speaks the truth”.
some of them don’t have time to eat anything all day so they catch up in the evening.
some like to cook and just eat a slice or two of the finished product (like my mom)
some take their time and eat slowly every piece of pizza (in one hour, even two)
some delicious treats are low-calorie
some spend the entire weekend at the gym just so they can eat ice cream the day before. Hurray for them! That’s ambition!
So, #youdidnoteatthat, here’s what I’ve eaten lately:
„Never, not in the darkest moments, at the end of Tikdabra, when death was his one, sole companion, he couldn’t have imagined such a turn of events. For him, as a noble warrior, that sort of death was the only definite defeat. But now, out of nowhere, he was starting to realize that death was nothing compared to the cruel reality: his most loved and cherished people had become the victims of his own war and that this was the true and most horrible defeat” – Tuareg, by Alberto Vazquez Figueroa
I didn’t know what to expect when I first opened the book. I was sure I would enter a mysterious and exotic universe, where people lived by completely different rules. I hope I would get a sense of that and challenge my own views of the world as I was reading it. I wasn’t wrong but I did gain much more than I bargained for.
I am saying “gain” because, in fact, I have left the book with a sense of respect, deep admiration and, unfortunately, bitter taste about the harsh reality.
1. Sometimes a hero doesn’t get his happy ending.
The road to hell is indeed paved with good intentions and more honorable men fall in its trap than we can count. A noble warrior loses everything at the end of a long journey through the desert, all alone, to have justice not for him, but for a stranger who happens to stumble by its home becoming a guest.
2. Hospitality is one capital law for Tuareg people.
Nothing is more cherished and protected than the fragile life of a stranger who seeks shelter. Tuareg warriors will start battles and blood baths to ensure the safety of an ordinary man, in the detriment of their own family. It’s an honorable thing to do but when the shame of being offended interferes, well, things change for the worst.
3. Women are free to love whomever they want
Unlike other arabs, the men born Tuareg respect the choice of their women. They let them loose, to bare their face and parts of their body and they expect to be chosen at late night “parties”. The women “carve love signs in their palms, letting them know they are the lucky ones”.
4. In return, Tuareg men cover their faces, letting only their eyes see the light of day
This way, their emotions cannot be so easily read. Their voice never betrays anything, so why should their facial expression?
5. Fear and hatred are not welcomed in the desert
In the desert, one mistake can cost you your life. That’s why they have to remain highly analytical, always friends of reason and foes of feelings. Hatred, fear, love, anxiety in their purest forms are not welcomed.
6. Admiration, success and ego mean nothing without your dear ones
The most hurtful lesson the main character learns, Gacel Sayah, is that no matter what you achieve, if you have no one to share it with, it means nothing. Conquering the wildest part of the dessert, escaping time and time again from authorities, humiliating the one that have wronged you and attaining wealth got scattered in the wind the moment he realised he might not recover his dear ones – ever
7. If everything goes wrong, have the power to accept your mistakes, instead of pursuing a path that leads you nowhere
Gacel has the opportunity to go back and forget about his obligations a couple dozen times. Instead, he wants to make a statement – that he is superior to all men. He puts his life in danger daily, believing in his superhuman will. If he accepted his mission was keeping him away from the important people in things in his life, if he turned around, his life would have been different.
A wonderful book, that inspired a great product: Tuareg, the water, made from condensed vapors of water, in the Saharan region, and minerals from a tuareg recipe. More on this topic, HERE.
… even when they are this pretty:
The truth is if I want a soft drink I’ll always choose a Coke. But more often, I find myself in a desperate need of water. I just sit comfortably, watching Game of Thrones, chewing on a pretzel or potato chip, when suddenly I press the space bar. I need it! Badly! Just one sip! No, not a tasty cocktail or refreshing fizzy drink, no, just water.
Yep, simple, ordinary water.
In that moment, I’d give anything for a glass of the “odorless, colorless, tasteless” liquid (that’s how we first learned about it in science class at school, remember?), which I usually drink with hunger and finish with a content sigh. It’s almost like in the usual commercials for Coca Cola, so you may be wondering… what exactly do I find so tasty about it?
Nothing. See, it’s not about the taste, but rather the feeling after. When I’m dehydrated, almost unknowingly, my body craves for water. I can cheat it with Coke, but the sweetness of the drink only alerts my body that I’ve tricked it. The same goes for coffee, if not worse.
The satisfaction that I’ve calmed my thirst, the right temperature of the water, the feeling of every cell of body being invaded with a cure, not a treatment … well, it’s my small – not guilty at all – pleasure.
See, unlike Coke, I don’t feel even guilty when I drink it. I know it’s what my body needs, since more than 50% of it is made of water. It’s healthy, it’s rejuvenating, it’s fuel for my cells. Also, I have this weird, great sensation of giving me a gift when I consciously reach for water, not Coke. It’s like honoring my roots, celebrating the taste of the one thing essential for life, for us, the one true thing that keeps us alive above all else.
There’s nothing wrong with dancing right.
I find a waltz gracious and beautiful in its simplicity and a salsa extraordinarily sexy and powerful. I watch competitions – I love how good, experienced dancers make you think that the music inspires them on the moment, that what you see is a burst of spontaneity. The truth is each step is carefully linked to others and others by their teachers, the ones they saw every day at the dance studio.
Everything is carefully rehearsed before going to a competition. There are basic steps everyone there learns and once they get them right, they can move to more complicated turns and twists, most of them the result of their choreographer’s imagination. Some of them, future dancers, have the gift of vision, creativity and courage to innovate but most are just in love with the movement, brilliant and devoted students.
I speak, in part, from my experience. I was interested in dance lessons at one point – it was at a time my parents knew best. Naturally, I went to some dance studios. One was for students, mainly. I was 8 years old at the time, too small to feel good among them. I went backstage, where my parents were, hoping they’d see my awkwardness. They didn’t. I went back there, after a week during which I practiced some steps daily, only to discover I didn’t remember them and didn’t have the patience to learn them again. I went home crying.
Another time, I went at some classes at a local college. I was with a friend. I wasn’t alone, this time, so I was ready to “prove myself”. I learned to waltz, to cha-cha-cha and… something else? I don’t really remember. The fact is I felt like a robot. Constantly rehearsing the same steps, carefully not to get out of role, standing in line with the other kids. I heard the music but I didn’t feel it. I was more focused on getting the routine right.
It wasn’t about the joy and freedom of dancing, it was about performance and acing some classes.
So, the other day, when T asked me why didn’t I tried other studios, if I love so much dancing (yep, I had been rushing from work to my house just to put on some music and dance), I remembered that feeling. I knew the answer, although I couldn’t explain it right.
Not until I heard this song, at least:
See, dancing is for me the one true moment of quietness, expression and freedom. When I dance, my thoughts, worries and fears disappear into thin air. It’s different from writing – writing transports me to another dimension, where I let my thoughts flow onto the paper or the screen, leaving a huge window open for my soul to come out.
Dancing is not thinking, but feeling. It’s almost close to meditation, if you see it from this point of view. It’s releasing myself from thought, from words, from articulating what I feel, preferring to own and understand what I feel.
It’s a release of energy like
no other on the earth only one other on the earth – all you, +18 readers, know what I mean. (Kids, you go to bed! It’s past 11 pm already!)
I was never going to conform to society’s view of proper dancing. It’s not wrong, but it isn’t for me. No wonder I prefer contemporary dance and street dance to standard/latin0 routines!
The best, for last