Heather Marks

Bit of a boring uninspiring blog today because I'm wiped out and not feeling particularly so it's more of an oogle if anything. 1) French - S/S 2004 2) Numéro - June 2004 3-5) Publication: POP, Date: S/S 2004, Title: The Sporting Life, Photographer: Liz Collins
All taken from http://www.heather-marks.com/

I don't know what it is about models that enraptures me. I don't think it's the attraction in a physical lusting kind of sense because I don't believe 60% are even that magenetising in that way. I think it's something to do with perfection. With attention, idolisation and a blissful idilic world where troubles that seem to affect and slaughter any dream like sense to us in life, just don't exist. I think they are, if anything, how I envision dreams to be if I were to have substantial ones. The crappy two-three a year I do get are just banal and framented not even in an Alice In Wonderland way. Models simulate to me frivoloty not in sex but in image. They are actors in life as their image is money and sustainance and neither last longer than a week or day. They change yet stay the same. Be who they want to be (or designers want them to be) and mould do it with the same skeletal structure and skin just different paints and patterns. And yeah I know, it's not JUST paints and patterns but you know what I mean.

They seem like childhood dressup time when it wasn't what you wore, it was how you wore it. And it wasn't for how it looked or what it meant, it was just for the sake of wearing. I miss that. I miss the innocence of playtime, youth and naivety and for some reason models and fashion magazines sythesise in an adult tongue, all of this for me.