It is a bold act of independence living within one’s limits. A bolder act of freedom comes through classism outstripping descent. No dignity is more imposing than that of a distinct point of view that belongs not to the past, not to the present, but to the individual mind.
Time waits for no one, and grievance takes the place of expectation when youth struggles to live up to bygone times. Lonesomeness is sovereignty, it is detachment from history, the remains of beauty from a former life. Rough stitching, cropped pants and mix-match sweet fabrics blend in the drive of an autarchic tone, mixing tones of clichés and disenchantment. It is the discipline of a few that sets the trail for real conquest: Jil Sander sees the new hand of Rodolfo Paglialunga, Fendi and Bottega Veneta fiddle with denim, while the master of bourgeois propriety sends passion for antiquity down the runway at Prada.
In freedom lies power, and with power comes success. Maybe youth should not have power over the past, but over itself.