It is due to no small miracle that this page still exists, after the five long years since I published my first post on Blogger.
Of course, I never did expect that readers would even be interested in what I had to say, given I'm not at all what one would call fashionable.
Thanks then for still visiting – for whatever reason – even if I no longer post reviews of fashion shows or scans of magazine editorials.
Blazer vest, Ziggy Savella
Beat-up laceups, Marlboro Classics
Belt from an Italian market
No, no, no. Don't think I'm being sentimental just because Thursdays call for throwbacks.
Neither am I being my usual judgmental self by casting stones on shallow consumerism.
Yes, I'm just surprised, and – fine – thankful as well.
Thanks that you have looked past my antics.
I know nothing about relevance, and pretend not to be at all important.
This is a vain diary, at best and after all. One that I am perfectly aware is looked at more than read.
I'm thankful as well that this medium has provided a venue between confession and performance.
The wind here is not strong enough to blow away the leaves in our backyard – slowly rotting as haphazard compost.
But I like this amount of jest: just enough for an introduction to introspection. As fleeting and transparent as the best poetry ever published.