Dressing As Protest & The Violence Of Fashion Judgement
What is it about our dressing that incites such violent responses in other people? Do we find it ourselves in response to other fashion rebellion?
What is it about our dressing that incites such violent responses in other people? Do we find it ourselves in response to other fashion rebellion?
The word ‘toxic’ has become a slur to use to attack, rather than a tool to reflect on what one needs.
I wrote this post at the start of this year, having hit 40 and mistaking midlife crisis for twenty twenty vision. What a year 2020 turned out to be.
In how many ways shall I experience grief? I watched THAPPAD and thought about all the people who have hit me. In plural
Inside my pockets, I keep pieces of courage, to reach for when I need them. See, life has become an unpredictable horizon strewn with landmines called memories. An accidental sighting and unfortunate coincidences. We’re so connected, we’re entrenched seamless and a chance encounter, becomes an obituary. Memory, that unreliable narrator…
I’ve moved away from a lot of festivals steeped as they are in religion, the biggest reason for violence & turmoil in my country right now. I was talking to a stranger yesterday when I realised just that this is a good time to remember abundance. But it only feels…
The first time you watch someone die is a surprise because wasn’t death supposed to be silent?
I make the decision to let go of the validation & security they offer while I’m on this quest to discover who I am.
When a wave of stories about men’s atrocities began coming out a couple of years ago, she and I found ourselves shoulder to shoulder and talking. And we also discovered a mutual love of sarees, especially when personalised to our contemporary lifestyles.
This is a recap of my menstrual cup journey. I have not one but two that suit me now.