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.