Energy Of Taste

Isn't It Funny

How Often

We Think We Can Use Fashion Simply Because It's Convenient?

And it isn’t a mistake, exactly, it’s just a matter of how correctly it’s placed.

The truth is, every garment carries a whisper of intention, and the energy it projects can just as easily turn against us as it can elevate us. We dress as if the fabric were neutral, forgetting that cloth remembers, that color speaks, that silhouette judges. We imagine art as a passive companion, when in fact it is the most demanding critic. It does not forgive laziness, nor does it tolerate the illusion that convenience equals elegance. Fashion, in its sly way, exposes the gaps between what we wish to be and what we actually are, it’s as if we think we can bend aesthetics to our moods, but the irony is that aesthetics bend us instead. A careless choice becomes a declaration; a deliberate one becomes a weapon. The gallery of daily life is merciless, every street a runway, every café a stage, every glance a review. We use fashion as if it were a shield, but shields can be heavy, and sometimes they reveal more than they protect. Art, meanwhile, insists on permanence, even when we crave the fleeting. The brushstroke, the cut, the drape, they all conspire to remind us that taste is not convenience, it is consequence.

And so we continue pretending that the jacket is just a jacket, the painting just a painting, yet beneath the surface, the energy hums, waiting to betray us or crown us. It is not a mistake to believe in fashion and art, the mistake is to believe they serve us without demanding something in return.