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Sleepwear : Outerwear

Before sharing the piece I wrote for this post a few days ago, I’d first like to briefly speak about the horrifying news that the world woke up to yesterday morning. It’s hard to collect your thoughts together about circumstances like this, because the mere thought of an act so sickening shouldn’t even be possible. But it was – it was sickening and completely inhumane. Those words can’t even begin to express it. News like this will always hit you hard – and this hit me because it happened so close to home, in a venue that many happy memories were made for me as a child. Concerts – they’re wholly ecstatic events that people go to for their own experience of pure joy. And for children in particular, pure joy in the most rewarding and innocent form imaginable – joy that remains with them forever. So the action of shattering a blessed experience for so many in the most horrific way is true inhumanity. It can’t be fathomed. Whilst I could write for days about the matter, I won’t say much more. I use this website as an open platform to share my thoughts, so I wanted to shed a piece of my opinion on the news – news I need not describe in detail because everyone reading this is sure to feel as equally disgusted. My thoughts go out to all those affected during this terrible act of inhumanity. But let us not allow it to diminish the dreams that should come from the wonderful experiences that are made through pop culture. Let us live out the dreams of those who are no longer here to pursue them.

In case you were wondering, I’m not wearing literal pyjamas in this post. But this co-ord’s similarity to the much loved louche loungewear generated more than a few glances when walking around London. I hadn’t questioned my choice in outfit before venturing out, simply because it’s a shirt and wide trousers – two items that I frequently wear on a weekly basis. So what is it about the full pyjama look that many are afraid to embrace?

Could it be the fear of looking like a sartorial slacker, a lazy implication that one has just rolled out of bed? Maybe. But I think that by challenging the formerly restricted boundaries of what we’re supposed to wear at different times of the day, one certainly doesn’t slack. Rather, one shows vivacity, a confidence to embrace a look that says I’m wearing something quite literally effortless and completely comfortable, whilst remaining impeccably chic and on trend. Because it most definitely is on trend. One simply has to look at the spring/summer 2017 ready-to-wear collections of every leading designer and they would be sure to see at least one model showcasing an outfit stereotypically styled in the bedroom.
So why is it that designers are increasingly veering towards this look? Perhaps it’s a nod towards the comforts of home. Because that’s where we’re most at ease, is it not? In familiar surroundings. We’re living in an age where many people would choose to purchase clothes online whilst comfortably sat in bed, as opposed to battling avid shoppers in a hectic store. An age where many people choose to watch a film on netflix as opposed to venturing outside to sit in a cinema. As I talked about in my previous post, we’re sharing as much as possible online, inviting the world to see how we live our lives. And if the dressed-down fashions of the home are a great part of that, then this downtime game is understandably being converted to a wholly wearable daytime look. Public sphere, private sphere – the boundary between the two is immensely blurred. In being this way, the boundaries between daywear and evening-wear, and arguably formal and informal wear, are subsequently becoming more and more blurred too.
Now, in a stylised way, loungewear is becoming the norm. Honestly, I really like it. Take the co-ord set I chose to wear for this post: it’s slick navy colour and contrasting white piping connoted cosy elegance, but was quite literally elevated into an outdoors look with the addition of statement platform boots. Not only can it offer a timeless look, but it’s perfect for the summer season ahead. Why simply use it as attire for reading a novel on your chaise longue (aspiration of mine) when it can loosely drape upon your frame as a means of simple, practical style for summer? As summer approaches, lighter, looser materials naturally take the reigns on dressing, so why not promote the idea that you’ve just rolled out of bed in a trendy, fashionable manner? Aspire to Beyonce’s level that you woke up like this. I’m all for it, because I’m all for casual clothing. As of the past year, straight-leg jeans dominate most of my every day looks, and even a lot of my evening looks too. If I want to appear more formal in the evening, I’ll wear tailored trousers instead. So now comes the addition of the co-ord, pyjama resembling set too.

I find it to be healthy to challenge the formerly restricted boundaries of certain clothing. In this day and age, there’s no way that styling a pyjama-inspired look can’t be completely classy. Especially in London – a city defined by its abstractly embracing approach to dressing. This is a look that can transition you from avidly tweeting in bed to comfortably arranging your life whilst out and about in the world. As the year of 2017 fills many with social anxiety – and for us Brits in particular, the fast-approaching election day – our wardrobe needs to comfort us as much as possible. So let’s take it to the extreme and evoke a sensual mood whilst styling the most comfortable look: the pyjama. What’s next? Will we be venturing out in our bathrobes? I’ll let you know.

Faye .x
Photographs by Moeez Ali – Instagram // http://www.joincomb.com/

Co-ord set: Mango

~ x ~

Rural Recluse

When I was five years old, I viewed the world through frames of fantasy. I remember travelling with my parents to the Lake District – a national park in Cumbria, northwest England – for a short recluse away from the city which was our home. The suburban beauty of its pure nature affirmed its undeniable charm, and as a young child mesmerised by the simplest of things, many of its traditions compelled me. One particular episode worth noting was a storyteller’s garden I visited in a small village called Grasmere. Families would gather around a fantastical storyteller who would immerse each and every soul present through recounting traditional fairytales. You’d sit on ornate wooden chairs and feel at complete ease surrounded by torches and braziers, which only served to amplify the tales told before you. It was a mesmeric experience to my youthful, dreaming self – I felt part of a world far from reality. Maybe that’s a reason I grew to study and love literature – I always enjoyed the feeling of escaping to an alternative world.

With this little trip occurring in 2001 – just a year into the new millennium – activities like this were the foremost form of escape for a lot of children, including myself. Now, seventeen years later, the same idea stands. But I don’t think experiences like this are as groundbreaking due to the constant advancements taking place. As opposed to the metaphorical frame of fantasy that I viewed the world through, the frame for children is now more commonly physical – it comes in the form of a screen. Our cultural landscape has shifted rapidly in the past ten years, and now it’s supposedly the ‘norm’ to see five year olds walking around with smartphones in their hands, immersed in a virtual world as opposed to just innocently imagining it in their minds. I recently embarked on a five day trip to the Lake District with my parents, back to that rural fantasy my five year old self was so dazzled by. I haven’t been back for years, so I was shocked to return and see how small it really was. I visited the the storyteller’s garden and this place which was once the vastest fairytale forest of my dreams was, in actuality, one of the tiniest spaces I’ve encountered. Seeing it was a little sad, and it made me realise that growing up is a funny thing, especially for people of my generation today. We’ve experienced a childhood deeply satisfied by hearing stories, playing games, being creative. Yet our teenage years of maturing subsequently aligned with the quick development of technology, and the growing phenomenon of social media. Our young selves constructed dreams and fantasies solely in our minds, but today, these fantasies are much more real. They can be visually understood or related through a technological device, something our former youthful selves could only have dreamed of, never fully expecting it to embrace it as a reality. But now it is. Alongside the currently advanced five year olds, we’re consumed by this virtual reality. I didn’t really realise the extent to which it has taken over until I recently spent a few days in this pastoral setting without it. 
Arriving to the Lake District and discovering those two tiny troubling words in the corner of my phone: No Service, lead to me asking: ‘Okay. What’s the Wifi?’. Embarrassing, I know. But it’s a question a lot of people today would ask, because it’s something which we can constantly call upon at our fingertips and immerse ourselves in as though its as real as the ground we walk upon. To my surprise, there was no Wifi either. The sudden realisation that I was to be without this for five days was, truthfully, a little unsettling. Why? Because lacking connection to this impalpable world makes you feel quite literally disconnected from reality. That’s the thing about the virtual world – we’ve got to this point where having no ‘connection’ makes us question the reality we’re in. The dividing wall between social media and social reality is rapidly falling, ten bricks at a time. Seeing your friends’ Instagram post from a restaurant is something you ‘like’ as though you’ve experienced it with them. But in reality, the more and more people share every minute of their day on a technological device, the nature of social human etiquette erodes. Take this example of a restaurant. Entering a restaurant today can, more often than not, be like entering a parallel world where emotions serve no value. On one table, a couple are on a date, each holding a glass of wine in one hand, their smartphone in another. Yes, they’re talking – just to the virtual world instead of to each other. Throughout the rest of the setting, people are quite literally under the control of their phones as they aim them high above their heads to get that perfect shot of the meal positioned in front of them. Arms in air, smartphone devices in hand, reality declines as this unreality retains control. And as the phone dangles high in hand, so too does the stability of distinguishing your public life to your private life.
I think that’s the main problem with technology and media – we’re so compelled to share as much as possible of our day that we’re doing things for the sake of how they’ll make us look to others as opposed to actually experiencing them. There’s that cliched question girls joke about: ‘If I haven’t Instagrammed it, did it really happen?’ But are they really joking about it? Obviously it did happen, but people are so under the influence of social media that most would initially find themselves answering ‘no’ to this question. Of course, I love technology and social media – my growing up has accurately aligned with its rapid development. Virtual reality is a place for me to externalise some thoughts and show creativity, and for that I will always enjoy being a part of it. It definitely represents a certain chunk of my life, but that’s my point exactly: it’s only certain chunks as opposed to absolutely everything. I think it’s important to share just a chunk of your life with people, to distinguish between what is real and what is not. It was rather refreshing for me to experience just the one reality for a few days – the reality that didn’t involve my small but steering smartphone. So from initially feeling unsettled at the thought of disconnecting myself from this virtual reality, I instead found it to be liberating. It’s refreshing to understand the value of emotional expression, without clicking a button on your Facebook status to let your friends know whether you’re happy or sad. That’s just a standardisation. It’s fun to share parts of your week with people, but endlessly seeking for something to be shared is only sure to diminish the value of the events that make up your day. 

So the shots that accompany this post are snapshots from my short trip. I took my camera out with me for one afternoon for my parents to take these shots, and I wanted to share them because that’s what this wonderful thing called the internet is for. It’s a place to share a chunk of your life. But not all of your life. There were many, many more images from my trip, just not stored on my camera roll. I mentioned growing up earlier, and it’s strange because growing up in my generation was like transitioning from one world to another. But the same idea of maturity stands – for me, growing up is about accepting and enjoying your independence. Independence, after all, will forever be just your own company. It’s not something that should always be displayed for everyone to see. Some experiences are just to be shared with ourselves.

Faye .x

Trench Coat: Portobello Road Market

Jumper: Rockit Vintage, London

Jeans: Blitz Vintage, London

Boots: Topshop

Necklace: Topshop

Watch: Kartel

~ x ~


People often ask me why I want to work in fashion. Is it just for the sake of saying how much I like clothes? No, it’s much more than that. The power that the fashion industry holds means that it is able to incite change and spark propaganda, which is something we’re seeing more of in the wake of social and political agitation. But at the same time, fashion can serve as a display of who we naturally are, and as a female, I enjoy using fashion as a mode of celebrating my femininity. When observing the recent fashion frenzy associated with feminism, it appears as though there are different ways to proclaim your gender, something that I am going to shed opinion on today.

Over the last month, I’ve increasingly noticed many women styling statement shirts that declare themselves as feminists. The slogan ‘trend’ was sparked by Dior’s Spring Ready-to-Wear collection with the capitalised ‘WE SHOULD ALL BE FEMINISTS’ tee. Now, the shirts are everywhere. Walking down Oxford Street is like walking in conjunction with a rally of proclaiming mannequins. Window after window shows statement after statement, each store having their very own slogans splashed across shirts. From Prabul Gurung’s ‘This Is What A Feminist Looks Like’  to Topshop’s: ‘Females Of The Future’, politically charged slogans are suddenly being shown as a revolutionary fashion trend. And in some sense, it’s great. It shows the power and ability of the fashion industry to install propaganda through an essential wardrobe item. But as more and more people are adhering to styling it, it becomes difficult to know whether they are doing so for the cause of feminism or for simply being on trend.
Whilst I’m not completely against the shirt, I do think that there are flaws to it. With so many women prolonging the fashionable nature of the item, it leads one to wonder: am I choosing to wear a shirt to simply jump on the bandwagon? Or, in fact: do I now actually need to wear a shirt to declare myself a feminist? If I don’t wear one, am I anti-feminist? The answer is surely no, but in an age where marches and protests are frequently occurring for the cause, one may perhaps feel pressurised to display their statements through their clothing. Declaring yourself a feminist through your t-shirt currently serves to be one of the most Instagrammed images, feeding into this idea of it being trendy. But how long will this last? Does the popularity of the statement feminist shirt display feminism as a trend, a fashionable notion to be splashed across clothing without holding genuine value? This probing question is the items flaw. And in the making of such shirts, hypocrisies are woven into them if they are rapidly constructed and mass produced using sweatshop labour, only to be worn by those fighting for fair, equal rights. In a way, it’s an ironically melancholic tragedy. 
Of course, the intention of wearing such shirts is for a good cause. Its invention is to challenge the misogyny of a culture in which women are often deemed inferior if they dress in a more obviously attractive and ‘feminine’ way. But should women feel pressure to wear a shirt to end this misogyny? I don’t think so. Because feminism is a radical view that males and females should be equal. For females specifically, it is in fact about being feminine and enforcing the fact that this shouldn’t be placed below masculinity. Ultimately, men and women are different. Yet both are equally empowered. So contrary to the misogyny associated with ‘feminine’ ways of dressing as deeming a woman inferior, perhaps women should enforce a feminine presentation through fashion, as femininity should be celebrated and proclaimed. So my outfit in this post is exactly about that. I was drawn to this dress because it connoted boldness and empowerment in a feminine manner, which I honour. Wearing a dress that adorns the elegance of the female figure doesn’t scream anti-feminism. Similarly, honouring the constant appeal of a woman dressed in a more obviously feminine manner doesn’t instigate the death of feminist fashion. If one defines feminism as a belief in the equality of the sexes, if feminine clothes are deemed ‘not feminist’, what value does feminism hold? If anything, it shows a woman to be at utter ease with her gender and empowered for herself, as she should be. It acknowledges the fact that women are naturally different to men, yet still should be similarly equal. I felt feminine and powerful whilst wearing this dress – I think it’s the right way to be.
So whilst it is a powerful notion to wear a statement shirt proclaiming one as a feminist, it should be noted that one is not anti-feminist if they choose not to do so, or to dress in a more obviously feminine manner. Either way, women should continue to use fashion to celebrate what it is to be a female. After all, the equal acceptance of this to masculinity is what we’re constantly striving for.
Faye .x
Photographs by Moeez Ali – Instagram // http://www.joincomb.com
Dress: Zara

Bag: Coach

Shoes: Topshop

Shades: Mango

Watch: Kartel
~ x ~

The Woman in Black

*This piece was written for CITOYENNE.
Spring is upon us and, in adherence, the streets of London seem even more chaotic than usual as we feel overpoweringly urged to reflect the season in our wardrobes and dress according to its conventions. With explosions of bright colour and surges of dramatic print, spring sparks increased visibility of more obviously abstract fashion, which, in the age of minimalist clothing, no longer serves to be quite as impactful as it once was. Cue the Miranda Priestly reaction: “Florals? For spring? Ground-breaking.”
I took a walk through Notting Hill last week and, despite the usual madness of Portobello Road, I noticed the streets were infused with blossoming beauty. Each year, I wait for the days when those perfect pastel pink blossom trees bloom throughout the city, opening up when the clouds begin to lift and the days get longer and warmer. I find that I appreciate nature so strongly during spring that, unlike most, I prefer not to attempt to mimic it through my clothes. As I walk around London, I see a constant flurry of women passing by like popsicles, which may be pleasant, but is not as innovative as one might think. Many are overcome with the desire to experiment with versatile pieces, but run the risk of looking more like fashion victims. In Notting Hill, while the brightly dressed rushed around the buzzing antiques market, I suddenly smiled as I spotted the rare woman who had chosen not to conform – a woman in black.
Black. It’s the colour that bestows elegance on the female figure, the colour that signals intellectualism, that indicates a woman’s charm is more than her clothing. It’s a colour that will never be dated; whatever the fashion industry declares to be the look du jour, nothing will ever be the ‘new black’ – not even orange. Some may ask, ‘Is it too easy? Is it just convenient?’ Perhaps. Nonetheless, it remains timeless. It demonstrates a level of sophistication and independence, especially when it stands alone in a sea of splashing pattern and colour. In the age where we can so easily gain an insight into someone’s lifestyle through social media, if a woman is dressed in black, she retains an air of mystery. Black is one of the rare mainstays of fashion that doesn’t conform to a season, a time or a trend. It’s quite miraculous, but somehow it can be placed in any setting and still look incredibly good. Despite the block colour buildings, budding blossoms and a pattern absorbed crowd, the woman in black was the thing that stood out on Portobello Road. She’s an icon of fashion, who will forever serve to epitomise endless shades of style.
So, as we settle into spring, instead of settling on dressing to fit with the flowers of our surroundings, may we instead perhaps honour the starkest statement of all: black.

Photographs by Aline Aronsky // Portfolio

Blazer: Zara

Trousers: Zara

Shirt: Vintage Balmain (Brick Lane, London)

Boots: Zara

Necklace: Topshop

~ x ~


I’ve long considered French culture to be the idealised lifestyle. My dad’s deep interest in French music meant that an array of musicians from Erik Satie to Serge Gainsbourg became cultural epitomes of my childhood. I vividly remember him blasting Gainsbourg’s duet with Brigitte Bardot: Comic Strip, for my amusement. It’s overtly kitsch pop style triggered me to theatrically parade throughout the house, singing the only words that made some form of manic sense to my juvenile mentality: ‘SHEBAM! POW! BLOP! WIZZ!’. Thinking back on it now, my mentality towards the song has barely changed, simply because I think it resonates with all generations. Brigitte Bardot’s lyrics are solely onomatopoeic – they’re basic and unembellished, but therefore bold and effortless. I would make the same claim for much of French fashion, and subsequently the ideal Parisian woman.

Why is it that so many people are drawn to the identity of the Parisienne? Men so often want to be involved with her, women so often aspire to be like her. But why? Maybe because, regardless of her imperfections, the Parisienne knows how to enjoy life, and she does it with endless levels of sophistication. She sees the world as it should be seen – through frames of optimism – and therefore lives each hour as though she is the protagonist of her own little novel or movie. She’s different to British girls, American girls, even Italian girls, because on some level, she’ll always remain a mystery. She’s the only person who fully knows herself, as she should be. Her very being is an art form, and I think that’s why she’s so idealised. I, myself, aspire to be like her. I never fully will be, quite simply because I’m British, but I find it refreshing to adopt her outlooks on life.

I think that a lot of these stereotypes associated with the Parisienne derive from how she presents herself, deeming fashion as key. For the Parisienne, the most applicable claim when it comes to fashion is that less is more. Have those few signature items that transcend fashion and remain timeless. Own a lot of black, because contrary to the negative assumption that it is easy and convenient, nothing will ever replace it. It’s the colour which adorns the elegance of the female figure, the colour which parallels an intellectual persona, so long as an aura of charm facilitates it. The Parisienne sees nothing dramatically wrong with showing cleavage or a lot of skin, but what does that leave to the imagination? This links to that idea of mystery again, and it really is key. No one will ever truly know you as well as you know yourself, so dress in a way that aligns with this idea. Let people wonder what your story is, let a man try his very best to read beneath the ungiving enigma of your identity and consequently drive himself crazy because he’ll never truly know who you are, unless he’s the one you want to find out. This is what the Parisienne would say. People have grown so accustomed to me wearing understated pieces on a day-to-day basis, something which I am content with, because it suggests that maybe my identity is somewhat Parisienne. Not enough people adhere to the claim of less being more, meaning that not enough people adhere to the ability of the mind to wonder.

I sometimes think that I should have been born in the past, because I think today, society has become too focused on materialism – it’s hard to find people who are not driven by it. People strive for a life and relationship of more money as they think this equates to a life of more quality. But it only erodes it. Search for people who instead find time to enjoy the luxury of solitude. People who drink coffee alone in a café with no reason of waiting for or meeting someone – but instead just enjoying their own freedom from conformity. People like the Parisienne, who doesn’t follow the clockwork organisation of life that everyone else expects, just for the sake of saying that she’s ‘happy’. She’d rather dream up a life of complete emotional fulfilment which becomes her personal form of madness the longer it’s not achieved, but that’s fine. Her life is her movie, and so like her, immerse yourself in a fantasy and smile at the spectators. In honest truth, this outlook has the potential to reduce you to utter heartbreak as you constantly await a man like Serge Gainsbourg or Jacques Dutronc to walk into your life and fall for your enigma, but never mind. Unlike most people, the Parisienne is more in love with the idea of love anyway. She’s drawn to idealisation and strives for perfection, without ever worrying that it can’t be achieved. Having an empowered sense of both masculinity and femininity at the same time means that she will endlessly await this aspiration, and settle for nothing less.

Thinking about this approach to life is quite intimidating if you’re surrounded by people who don’t follow it. But I really think it’s a healthy way to view life, because if you’re not constantly seeking something further, your life will lack excitement, and you’ll be bored till death by ritual. So tomorrow, try viewing life like the Parisienne – it won’t disappoint.

Faye .x

Photographs by Eve Parsons: Instagram

White shirt: Zara

Black off-the-shoulder top: Zara

Trousers: Vintage Ralph Lauren (Rockit, Brick Lane)

Shoes: Mango

Beret: Absolute Vintage (London)

~ xxx ~


There’s something incredibly threatening for your state of mind when trying to guess the future. Threatening may be a harsh word, but it is nonetheless applicable, as when second-guessing a future event, if the outcome doesn’t satisfy your expectations, you’re left feeling rather disillusioned. More so, you’re left feeling melancholic, even though you don’t want to be. I’ve long had a tendency to think too much, and I know that it’s a flaw of mine. Thinking too much and devising expectations in your mind makes life that much more saddening when things don’t turn out how you expect them to, and in particular, when people you think you know turn out to be rather different. You try to not be disheartened when your expectations are not met, but after all, we’re all human, and regardless of reality, we will always crave the fulfilment of our personal expectations and desires.

The more I grow up, and the more I encounter different types of people, I’m starting to discover the saddening fact that most relationships are transient. I’m not solely talking about relationships of love, but of relationships with friends, family, just about anyone. That sounds really negative, I know, but I’ve found it to be true. Naturally, I am an optimistic person, so I’ve long had hope in life and in people. Yet over the past few years, I feel like I’ve been living in a constant cycle of being disappointed. It shouldn’t sadden me anymore because I’ve grown quite accustomed to it, but it still does. I guess the reasoning for this is because, regardless of how much I experience disillusionment, I still continue to form some sort of devised ideal of a person in my mind before I find out what they’re really like. It’s dangerous – most people are unpredictable, meaning it can take a long time in any form of relationship to truly feel like you know and trust someone. A lot of the time when you feel disappointed, it stems from the fact that you’re giving much more to a relationship than you’re receiving back. Being unappreciative of kindness and loyalty says a lot about a person’s mentality.

What I can never understand is how so many people view relationships as competitions. I don’t see my relationships with other people as a contest of who can be more successful in life; if anything, I only contest success with myself. I ask: ‘What can I do to progress further in this?’ as opposed to ‘How can I be better than her?’ It’s crazy that a lot of people I’ve known appear to lead life in the opposing manner. I can’t imagine having that attitude towards someone I’m supposedly close to. Then there are those rare people in life who you meet, are instantly interested and intrigued by, and think that your relationship with them will be anything but transient, because you appear to be on a similar level. Then you’re even more disheartened as you discover that they’re as disappointing as the rest. They say one thing and then do another. One month you’re close to them, the next you’re a stranger. I’ve met one or two people like that. Doesn’t do much for you if you’re a dreamer.

A proportion of my time during the recent London Fashion Week was devoted to attending shows and presentations, but outside of this, I enjoyed observing style on the street across numerous locations in London. Across my travelling to these locations, I found myself reading Kerouac’s On The Road. It was the novel I was studying in Uni that week, so the reading was somewhat compulsory, but nonetheless affirming. I last read On The Road about five years ago, and so when re-reading it on my travels, I was surprised at how different my reactions were. More specifically, I was surprised at how easily I could place myself as having similar perceptions as Kerouac regarding relationships. The novels main character – Sal – frequently experiences transient relationships that end in abandonment and a return to his own solitude. A lot of people see this as a problem, but maybe that’s because they don’t really think about the true workings of relationships in their lives. Myself, I’m a lot like Sal in my approach to people. Why maintain close ties with someone when you realise there’s an inability to connect? Life is an undetermined road of people and of places, dealing with different characters and different challenges. Yet we’re never certain of when it’s going to end. So if you realise someone is travelling in the opposite direction to you, there’s little more to do than move yourself forward. 

There’s a quote by Sal which stuck with me when I first read the novel, and still sticks with me today. It reads:

‘What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? – it’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.’

Reading On The Road recently resonated with revelations of characters in my life who I hoped would have turned out for the better. These revelations saddened me – a reaction that’s only human. But like Sal, I’ll let their specks disperse and lean forward. The world is vaulting us for a reason: another crazy venture lies ahead, and with it, an endless stream of possibility.

As always, thoughts are much appreciated. I’m a little late uploading this look but my wardrobe hasn’t changed much as – once again – I’m in all black.What can I say – it’s an endless stream of my style! Thanks again to the incredible Moeez Ali who shot the following images for me – a composer of endlessly artistic photography.  So until next time!

Faye .x

Photographs by Moeez Ali – Instagram // http://www.joincomb.com/

Photographs by Moeez Ali – Instagram // http://www.joincomb.com/

Entire outfit: Zara

~ xxx ~