Rick Owens Women’s AW2015 ‘Sphinx’ Post no. 1


I’ve been having a gasp-athon since seeing the full runway pictures of Rick Owens’ latest women’s collection. It’s artistry personified.

It’s funny, when you worship someone like Rick as much as I do, being presented with a seminal piece like this collection is like being handed scripture or tablets from God. Totally. Blown. Away… Again.



I think producers and artists at the top of their game in House and Techno should be flattered that electronic dance music has finally gone mainstream. DJs should refrain from berating ‘EDM’, dance-pop and other examples of electronic music in popular culture. It is snobbery for snobbery’s sake. Without grounds.
All good and great forms of any art trickle down eventually and it is a natural process in our society. Look at Haute Couture thru Pret a Porter thru High Street. It is a homage and a compliment.
I am more surprised that it has taken this long to become a ‘thing’, even if it isn’t the first time Electronica has come into focus (at least once a decade since the 70s by my calculation).
If it’s a matter of taste then it’s a question of grace, it is crass to overtly criticise anything that isn’t to your liking. Especially when it comes across as being your ticket onto a bandwagon….



You sort of get to that point where you’ve run out of all the pain and pieces of the past to use as ammunition – against them, and as self flagellation. Every bit of guilt, blame and resentment has been rinsed. All parties are exhausted, unsure of love or hate or if there are any feelings left at all.
It’s usually at this point, with the last few drops of that sense that you are still the victim in all of it, that one comes up with the ingenious plan to be passive aggressive. What other way forward could there possibly be? They will obviously reevaluate their part in all this if I come in hard and silent like a stealth bomber? Surely?
Only I don’t want to be passive aggressive. I don’t want to be aggressive at all, I don’t want to have to protect myself, defend myself or prove myself anymore. I am tired of all the aggression, all the anger. The fists, the shouts, the tears. The scars. All one can do is walk away. And if strength allows it – wish them all the best, truly. Really let go of it all.
You kind of realise that three quarters of the chains around you, are your own incarceration of yourself – sheepishly, after all that pointing the blame.
You are aware that you’ve done this before though, but last time you didn’t really walk away as you still cared about what they thought of you, how they judged you, how they criticised you in mutters over the dinner table. Which is all plausible and probably true, but unimportant. It can’t be important any more.
It’s different now, you know you’ve tried, and tried really hard. You think back to that time you were told you did not belong, and realise you should have listened. How much time do we spend trying to make ourselves fit into impossible places? Part of me feels thankful for the benefit of age and all that, but a large part is really fucking pissed off that I’ve spent this much time thinking I was tending to a wound when I was just keeping it sore. And sceptic.
I accept that. That my need for…. redemption? Confirmation? Repatriation? Was actually the engine that perpetuated this awful legacy. And that is a powerful position indeed, because it gives you the ability to stop it all. Finish it.
And that’s what I’m going to do.