Resurrection

Every story has a beginning, so shall we start with the present?

It's the new year, and today is the first day of my last month at my current job. Like many of my colleagues at our beloved (but dying) children's publishing house, I'm confused and sad, relieved and excited. There's nothing like the anticipation of an ending to sharpen one's focus on the present. Work is always emotional. But it's especially so now. I'm grateful though, because I am finally waking up to the emotional me and not the worker-bee me. Yes, it's 2 a.m. and I'm not asleep but finally waking up!

Perhaps it's fear of the unknown that draws me to the comfort of the past. Whatever the reason, here I am to share with you an old and undying love of mine: vintage. It sounds so trivial as I put the idea into digital pixels, but clothes have always fascinated me, and the stories behind the people who wear them, who once wore them, and who may one day share them can be endlessly exciting. I hope you enjoy this meandering sartorial documentary of sorts.

To start things off with a figurative beginning, I've posted one of the the most striking nude tableaus of our time. Courtesy of the lovely and legendary Pina Bausch, a true storyteller. Let's peel off all the layers and celebrate where it all begins: the body.