the paradox

As this marathon month of fashion comes to a crawling stop, the models retreat to their home base, the streets from New York all the way to Milan swallow fashionista, returning back to their brisk and routine selves, cafés along the Avenue des Champs-Élysées become less crowded and only the vague musk of Chanel No. 5 remains lingering in the air. And although it is universally accepted that the fashion industry NEVER sleeps, at this very moment, this winding down of the most anticipated month of the year, designers, editors, stylists, and even Karl Lagerfeld, takes one giant deep breath. In that moment of universal clarity, it gives the rest of us a second to catch up, blog our asses off, and get ready for whats ahead.

Per usual, I spend the entire month of September tearing pages, printing looks, gawking at blogs, and virtually submerging myself into a land that consists of a lot of fashion, a lot more coffee, and absolute solidarity. I watch style.com shows on repeat, analyzing each look, trend, theme, idea that hits that runway with the hope that I will have one of those "ah-ha!" moments and find myself speaking the language of the designers themselves. Silhouettes from Vuitton, shoes from Galliano, shoulders from Balmain, and essence from Chanel make my heart actually stop beating momentarily. And as I too, take the post-September breath, I am left with one question, one idea that I just can't seem to get out of my head. Year after year we see variation in style whether it be grandiose or minute but there has to be one thing that never changes in a women's wardrobe. And no, it is not the little black dress because in my opinion the new Hervé Léger is making that LDB look pretty damn boring. And then it hits me, that "ah-ha!" moment I was hoping to find on the runway, I found in a place much more unexpected. Recently, I have been wearing something that I didn't find hanging in my closet, but rather something that has been ignited inside me, causing a radiance that even the best bronzer in the world can't provide. This feeling, radiance, and sheer bliss that even Stella, Marc, Karl, and Emilio at their best can't harvest with in my heart. And voila!... yes, ladies and gentlemen, here it is: the one thing that will ALWAYS look good on a woman is love. And when love and fashion come together, you better believe the results are extraordinary. So thank you, to a particular person who has made me realize that even the best dressed woman in the world can look that much better if she is drenched in love. Here are a few photos that are the ultimate paradox, delicately beautiful and brutally inspirational.