dresses, soul, madness, taste…

i saw dresses this morning in the farmyard at rochecorbon where i am shooting. they were hanging in the sun, side by side, like bluebeard’s wives, only lifeless. they lacked their souls, and the soul of a dress is a body.

— jean cocteau, diary of a film


elsa schiaparelli, cocteau painting

yamamoto & madness  f/w 04-05

fashion is only complete when it is worn by ordinary people who exist now, managing their lives, loving and grieving.





Filed under art, fashion, music, philosophy


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