Should one be apprehensive of the "acidic discontent" emitted from the pure visual narrative of neon green, the promise to stop calling it neon might give out a sense of "reflective nostalgia" in the wise words of Svetlana Boym. The rhetoric of de rigeur commands the transient be abolished as in what blazing green had been two years ago.
Still though one cannot be absolved neither from its blatant glory nor its ability to disrupt linear time constraints. So its equal parts heartening and awkward to redefine chartreuse in a dislocated topos of vestiary existence one that both welcomes and eschews retrospective styling intents. In this fictionalised reality, self presentation acquires acidic intonation of the C20H25N3O kind and man it sure is trippy.
Photos by A Pink Moon Camera
Wearing Acne mohair sweater, vintage Céline skirt similar here, sneakers New Balance, old Topshop shopper (a disco tinted version here)