Versace

"We've become a race of Peeping Toms." - Rear Window, 1954

"Wow. If I had this view, I'd distract myself for hours." In the morning, you can hardly see the street beneath the dense line of black wool coats, marching to an indistinguishable fashion of Burberry and Louis Vuitton. From the 12th floor, it's like a sort of fantasy Rear Window. The kind of view you share a cup of coffee with. The kind you can feel safe while wearing nothing but Versace's lacy tease of a sweater. It's the only place accepting of this kind of transparency. A few blocks away, you can see a wall of graffiti standing against an otherwise rusty urban grid. There's a tube of rouge without any lips, a pair of glasses without any eyes. I know there's more to see, but the rest are mere fragments of things uninteresting to me, so I don't focus on them. Selective exposure. Every now and then, I wonder whether people can see me in my room. Oddly enough, it doesn't disconcert me. I guess, even if they are, I just assume no one's judgment.


Versace sweater (Thakoon Addition similar)