Hidden away in the humid hills of Pennsylvania’s Poconos, summer camp is no place for sartorial exploration. Perforated leather shorts are replaced with Nike spandex hotpants, Birkenstocks and Tevas are no longer high fashion, and everything else deemed “normcore” loses its irony to exist only in simplicity and utter expectedness. One simply cannot wrangle a wild group of six-, seven-, and eight-year-old girls whilst wearing a Raf Simmons neoprene dress or a vintage Gianni Versace gown or even a Reformation jumpsuit. Here I describe my current plight: as I write to thee from Pinemere Camp, drenched in sweat and dotted with persistent pimples, I struggle with maintaining the balance of personality and practicality. Aesthetics are what stimulate me most in this universe; I am mesmerized by the intricate details of the obscure and the artistic, by the creative mind, by the human body.
However, when working as a camp counselor in a metaphorical bubble, seemingly unplugged from technology and the outside world, sauntering around in black leather booties sometimes acts as the only action in which I can feel my most expressive self. At this current period I cannot envelope myself in Women’s Wear Daily or pour over Carlyne Cerf de Dudzeele’s Instagram account or #FreeTheNipple or examine the newly released A/W print advertisements whenever I please. The activities that bring me the most joy are distantly unavailable; in their place, current conversations stir over what is for dinner (asked thirty times in a ten minute period by my nine adoring campers) or why... why... whyyyyyyy we cannot wear flip-flops to kickball. The best reprieve is to pour over an issue of S Magazine to garner a continued connection to the sartorial worlds of art and fashion.
The purpose of this piece is to reconnect myself (and those who are reading – the summer sun may have stolen your aesthetic connection, as well) back into the world of all things avant garde. I have complied a Weekly Wishlist replete with the types of images that make me fall in love over and over. A picture is worth a thousand words and lasts forever… unlike nap time. You can catch me at the tetherball court.