I just finished touching up my nails and thought about how much I, personally, owe to Vivienne Westwood. So many things that I love to the core of my being, so many things that influence and inspire me, and so many things that have, at one point or another kept me alive, were directly or indirectly influenced by this woman.
She died today and I've watched people I adore pouring out messages of gratitude to her, thanking her for being the foundation of the modern alt-fashion movement. How many people are selling their creations today because Westwood had the courage to open up a shop and call it Sex? How many people found the courage to be their true selves because Westwood showed us how sometimes the best thing to do was to brazenly and beautifully be the freak everyone accused you of being?
I painted my nails and thought about her. The goth in me demanded they be black. The punk in me demanded that I not clean the edges. A black splattered mess on my fingers, sloppy and messy and so very true to who I am.
Thank you, Vivienne Westwood for daring to let your creations and ideas and questions and demands be seen, be sold, and become art. Thank you for everything.
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