Medusa's snakes have chosen me. An eternal spell engraved onto my skin. Tattooed by a thin frayed layer of organza. The prophecy of our precedent prequel has fulfilled itself. And I devote myself. /HORST
Facing the condemned and seemingly unaesthetic. The ugly and hated. To finally establish a version of beauty and fascination that is constituted of one's very own fears and preconceptions. /HORST
Honestly, I am shocked. How could that happen? How can you copy a complete collection in such an obvious manner? As if no one has seen or will immediately remember the infamous Jil Sander SS10 collection? Welcome to the copy & paste society. /HORST
It's mine. It's tacky. It has snakes on it. It's definitely borderline. Yes, it's actually kitsch. But it's Raf. And it's mine. Mine. Mine! How nice it feels, this fulfilled shopping enthusiasm. /HORST
There it is again: My surrender to D&G. Hidden in a dark corner of my mind. Barbie Fashion for men. Ken Fashion so to speak. Maybe we all want to be a bit of Ken? Except one particular detail of his anatomy. /HORST
Just a little reminder for myself that I do love bustier tops on men. I want to see it. I want more of it. And beyond any scepticism, it does work, effortlessly worn with a classic jacket. /HORST
I've just been confronted with a visor cap at work. Either the wearer perfectly understood to translate a high fashion trend into the everyday context or, more likely, he tries to make a statement detached from any fashion consciousness. /HORST
A little bit of Gaspard Yurkievich can never do wrong. I strongly recommend biceps and triceps exposure for summer. Either by wearing a voluminous top or waistcoats with bare arms. /HORST
Top David Slijper for New York Style Magazine Bottom Blank Spring/Summer 2010 Lookbook
Lately, I feel highly attracted to Tuareg/nomad inspired desert suits. Wide trousers, long linen shirts, a lot of white, crispy structures and sheerness. Sandals and sand. Pleats and dunes. /HORST