Mirror Mirror......tell to thee.

I am a free agent....my agency belongs to me ( alone).
A sensualist, I live to look and to feel.
Worthy or not, my life is my subject and my subject is my life.

By recollecting all the years past, a strange and yet beautiful image keeps meandering back into my thoughts.

After my father passed away, I decided to go back to England and continue to work and just live my life.
Grief and the sorrowful....walked around with me everyday...for a long time.
I took myself off to Paris for a break and a chance to spend some time with a dear friend who was living and working in Voltaire...there is an extremely old cemetery called "Pere Lachaise"...around the corner from my friends house and where I would spend some time walking and observing.
It was late autumn and dark red thin leaves were falling all around...it felt so quiet and strange somehow to be there....alas it did me good, even though it was a burial yard.

All most six hours passed by and I felt hungry and tired, I continued to walk.. and walk I did.
Many cafe's were open and I just thought to myself...this one will do.Paris has a cafe for every person alive and I seemed to find one that was about as low keyed, as I was feeling.

Ordered myself a tea and looked at myself in my compact mirror....dishevelled  and cold..I turned my attentions to the man who had his back to me.
High backed cashmere coat with a funnel type collar...black and buttoned up..he was smoking a little cigarette.
Alone and introspective my focus became him, I stared at his hair and watched the gentle smoke from his cigarette, drift into the cold air.It was about five o'clock.The waiter came out and said thank you to him, he stood up to leave the table after butting out his finished cigarette,  he turned his head to the right to view me.....it was Yves Saint Laurent.

Something went off like a bomb...inside me.
Was I seeing things...was it true to life.
He smiled at me and walked off...just like that.

Considering all I had gone through, my father and his death had catapulted me into another dimension.
This sighting of my most treasured of men, had lifted me into happiness like no other I had experienced.

When I returned to Australia, two years after, I found myself aligned with all things fashion focused.
Fashion History is that moment in time where we became the heirs....of the past...and what a past it was.


As I stare back in the mirror, paintings and photographs and childhood visions....contain much of the necessary food for my thoughts.....Mirror mirror....for all to see

                                            my life is my subject for it belongs to me.