A STUDY IN SORROW

Posted by Alyssa Plaza on

When I started my clothing line in the spring of 2015 I experienced the most satisfaction I've ever felt about my style, I specially attribute it to the fact that I was designing for the person I wanted to be, rather than who I was at the moment. Getting dressed for the day was a pleasure, I felt some sort of pride doing it on ordinary days where no one but myself would get to see what I wore, it made it less frivolous, and in a way, a form of self-care.
I guess it was silly of me to expect that fantasy of sartorial splendor to last forever. I don't know who said that one quote—or how it goes exactly, but it is something like whatever comes disappears that very moment. It will not go; it is already gone.
Early, on this year, a series of afflicting circumstances started happening in my personal life, and I found myself floundering in the most unexpected of ways, I tried the best I could to hang on to, and indulge on as many things that under regular conditions would have been a delight, like designing and dressing up, it even made sense to see it as an armour to face adversity. Sadly, my mind became consumed by distress, and everything lost meaning, even the most enjoyable activities became a burden, and getting dressed became a daily dejection. My favorite jacket, once considered flattering for its structured form, was now too stiff, the top with the really high neck in which I used to feel imperturbable became obstructive, all my skirts, constricting, dresses, languid. I felt uncomfortable no matter what I wore. Everything was inconvenient, distorted and improper.
Could it be that evolution, whether is physical or emotional, is just that abrupt sometimes, where tragedy acts as a wormhole and going through one has just left me stretched and warped out of shape? If so, what do I do now? I'm not willing to compromise my style to suit my predicament, but I think it's necessary to interrupt my vestiary reverie and shift the narrative from a utopian self to the vogue cripple I've become.
Restoring my equilibrium is not something I can achieve through clothes, but they can help alleviate some of the residual symptoms that are stifling my existence. Firstly, I am ditching seasons—a logistic nightmare for breathless and brittle little me. My approach has to be one of consideration, I am often detached from myself when I design, because as mentioned, I focus on a fantasy self, so this time I'm designing for someone in grief, and my main concern is to create engulfing, concealing, sedating and simplified garments. It might not be what everyone is waiting and hoping for, I know how eagerly most of you await for cold weather collections, but it is what I need, a symbolic surrender to the poetry that exists in sorrow.
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A soundtrack for a forgotten ritual

Posted by Alyssa Plaza on

(images from Halloween 2018)

I think this is the first halloween / día de los muertos that I won't spend in a costume.
Unusally, I wasn't invited to any parties this year, and without that reminder I overlooked the holiday entirely. But it's not too late to still enjoy it, I've put together a playlist of eerie songs that I'll be listening to on repeat to set the atmosphere of my uneventful weekend. And, If like me, you'll spend the holiday on your own, doing nothing but the quotidian, listen with me.

A dark and laid back sountrack for a forgotten ritual.

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ORCHID PINK

Posted by Alyssa Plaza on

I've always liked the concept of minimalism applied to personal style, buying with intention and limiting the clothes I acquire to only those that can be mixed and matched, and that I will continue to wear for years and years, this is the reason why my wardrobe is exclusively black and white —I know I just put out a predominantly red collection, but my body of work and my personal wardrobe aren't exactly parallel, it is just that sometimes I find myself transfixed by colors in nature that flow into my work, and in this particular occasion, a drip from that flow spilled into my life outside of work, and my wardrobe became less 8-bit grayscale with the addition of this orchid pink leggings, which by the way were inspired by Medinilla Magnifica flowers that hopelessly withered away on my coffee table.
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BUSY IN BLACK

Posted by Alyssa Plaza on

 

Despite fall being THE season for the darkly inspired, fashion-conscious soul (I'm talking about you and me here), I am feeling rather uninspired.
It's perhaps that I currently have no time to sit with a new book or music album. Every page in my agenda is already filled with work related activities, the kind that isn't creative, but the accounting, material sourcing, and production logistics kind, that tends to consume every waking hour of my day.
I guess it reflects in my appearance (old photos, but recycling them because I'm wearing the exact same dull outfit as today and as I said, no time for new photos), because I keep repeating the all black, basic but practical, ensemble pictured here with a simple jumper and skinny jeans, appropriate for long work days in my cold cold studio, just imagine it covered in lint, because I've been very active on the sewing table.
Hopefully you've been having much more fun than me styling your fall outfits.
Jeans: old Asos
 
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A WARNING

Posted by Alyssa Plaza on

 

Lately I've been falling for the lure of color, there is something about it that almost feels voyeuristic.

I've been enamoured with the depth of black since I got into fashion. There is no question to the power and elegance of a black dress, but through the sober presence of it, there's always something out of my perceived understanding, Black can suggest mourning, authority, introversion, humility, dignity, modesty, mystery. Black is always a safe option.
But a red dress (or blouse in this particular case) has a different aura, an urge to express. A form of exhibitionism. 
I believe that the reason nature is full of color is to send a warning of existence: Here I am, Look at me, acknowledge me, understand me.

 

 

 

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