A VERY WES ANDERSON AFTERNOON

OH! Mother Fuc- I have just cut the top of my finger in the fridge-freezer door. It hurts like hell. Cue a thought process unfolding, ‘I’m momentarily Margot Tenenbaum, well, I am a Tenenbaum, the missing Tenenbaum, so I guess I’ll embrace it’. A brisk unwrap of a plaster, and a gentle application across the top of my finger, then to the side a little with a NASA worthy aerodynamic slit so that it folds nicely. On with the day.

But then, a thought about being flawed emerges, Freeze Frame, and back – no – followed with a little look at my new finger, and I desire to see the flaw as something which wouldn’t define me, maybe it could even add to who I am. A lil’ clumsy, and that’s okay.

Tracking shot unfolds as I message Julia on Instagram while walking across the kitchen and into the bedroom in a flurry with zero punctuation and no real sentence structure, just about managing to type out the words, ‘I want to be a Wes Anderson character tomorrow’. She enthusiastically obliges, I visualise the spark in her eye. She is already panning Galway for the perfect scene.

Jump cut – I build my outfit from charity shop finds while Vitamin String Quartet oozes out of the speakers and blends with the sunlight shining in my apartment window. The prism catches the glow and shines a rainbow across the hard wooden floor. Where is it? Ah-ha! A french top, in the shade of mustard, which was possibly worn by a marching band peeks out from under a pile, followed by a denim zip up dress, some very cool Topman socks, and second hand Docs given with love to me one random afternoon by Joules.

I cut my fringe and all for the occasion, a swift chop with the scissors, a moment of regret, ‘oooh, that’s a little crooked, no – no, it’s great now!’ and a splash of Kat Von D on my lips, I am basking in the shade of Ludwig.

Grab a lollipop, and a book and away we go over the bridge, muttering about soul connections, new friends, possible romances and rendezvous. Down past the West End, stopping for an emergency sugar rush. Picturesque pastel peach houses offer a form of floral escapism. We’re home.

And that’s why I did it.

Childlike abandon, and a love for the surreal. Fashblack. A cut on the finger that reminds me of a time when I wouldn’t really have felt it all too much. It is important to feel pain. An absolute love for whimsical creativity which on a January evening seemed like a lifetime away. A love for being from another world, deeply rooted in the realisation that this one can really get you. An ear full of Chopin for my character, because it reminds me of a sunny window in a grand house, a home for my alter ego. Somewhere my heart feels full. Gold light switches, textured trimmings, laughter.

Isn’t it funny how often all of our happiness is hanging on the edge of tears? Even when we say it isn’t.

And I did it to be happy, and I am so happy I did it. As we get older we disregard the importance of playing. Of creative abandon, with no real agenda or objective, just a sunny day, some vegan pastry from a top secret location and a love for the wonder of it all.

I am here for taking risks, and pushing myself to see how much more my heart can hold. I encourage you to go do something similar, and let me know just how happy it makes you.

And, Cut.

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Images: The Outstanding Julia Monard | http://www.juliamonard.com/