Jazz Hands

Here is a confession...I was dying in my all black, cotton-spandex, yoga pants. Don’t get me wrong, they served and still serve a great mission. They allow me to glide effortlessly from tip tip typing story notes on my computer, to working out body stress on my mat in cobra pose, to clearing my head on an easy afternoon stroll with my puppies. They are practical, comfortable, functional, uncomplicated and all of the other adjectives synonymous with really boring. I needed some flair in my life, a little pizzazz. My soul was knocking, demanding jazz hands in place of the prayer mudra that had become my standard. It was time to free myself from the simple and mundane. Time to move on from basic black. Time to add color and texture, spunk and vibrancy to my wardrobe. It was time...to go shopping. Taking style cues from the art currently showing On The Ground Floor, my summer apparel now boasts rich reds reminiscent of the beadwork decorating the Kalash women in the photojournalistic images of László Mészáros. Geometric patterns swirl on new fabric, mirroring the circle paintings of Marie-Lois Rodriguez. Ornamental jewelry dangle from my neck like the branches of Dimitra Skandali’s site specific sculptural installation. Both my gallery and my closet are alive with tribal bedazzlements. Come. See. You may find art here to inspire your own fashion sensibilities.

Wearing: Katja Maxi Skirt by Eliza J, Anthropologie, Scarlet Top, Zara, Metal Fringe Pendant Necklace, Banana Republic
Special Thanks to Pari Ehsan for the Art|Style|Blog Inspiration.