What to do with fashion energy, musing, desire, dressing-yearns, when it doesn't matter . . .
I still love particular moments of getting dressed or putting on jewelry or applying eyeliner, but I just don't care all that much about where the energy goes.
I desire comfort and basic seriousness about the more pressing concerns at hand:
how Loulou's life will be,
how my students will live,
what a real and straightforward crisis will look like and how I will act or not act.
Reading this absolutely wonderful (and--let me be clear--horrifying book):
Radius: A Story of Feminist Revolution | Verso Books
The writer describes the way that the activists would, in their work to protect women in the midst of gang rape/street assaults/mob attacks, layer clothes upon clothes so as to protect their bodies (swimsuits over jeans over leggings etc.).
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