Thursday, March 20, 2008

Tokyo Fashion Week

The woman from the Klimt painting kept her word, and two geometrically misshapen cardboard invitations arrived in the mail addressed in Japanese to "The Venerable Lindsay" and "Our Goddess Tanya." For a moment I wondered what I should wear.

Swarms of men with lenses for eyeballs were expensively arranged at the foot of the stage. Tiny notebooks were open to pens on laps under conversational slouches.

The garments entered: a celebration of decency, evolved from fig leaves (in purple, gold and green for autumn). A flutter of shutters flattered the Russian teenagers, mail-ordered in proportion and nourished on tobacco; waxen hands at the ends of sleeves.

Would there be an answer inside that black room? The kind of thing that gently shifts the course of history or daily life?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

your last 2 sentences have swam around my head for nearly a day, defining a thought that until then i could not make words support.

arigatuna

Anonymous said...

your last 2 sentences have swam around my head for nearly a day, defining a thought that until then i could not make words support.

arigatuna

Tina said...

Lindsay...this is sooo good!!!! I especially enjoyed your mention of clothing evolving from fig leaves...brilliant girl!