IN "Looks"
02 August 2015
“I had a lucid dream”
“NOTHING HAUNTS US LIKE THE THINGS WE DIDN’T BUY”
RO: Pesemne ca ajunsesem in fata showroom-ului, pentru ca ma uitam pe-o bucatica de hartie furata de la hotel, pe care era scris cu negru “Strada Paris, nr. 45”, am dat fituica la o parte si fundalul isi pierdea, treptat, din blur: adresele se suprapuneau. Masinile erau oprite in mijlocul drumului si lasasera dare lungi de culoare dupa ele. Tot peisajul era nemiscat, de parca timpul ar sta in loc: strada era pustie, doar frunzele se mai tremurau in bataia vantului.
Am apasat lung soneria, insa sunetul nu se auzea, cum era de asteptat. Ma uit in stanga si-n dreapta: nici o miscare. Fara sa stau prea mult pe ganduri intru in cladire; in fata mea se afla o usa imensa alba, iar in stanga usii, la o jumatate de metru de la sol scria cu negru pe alb programul showroom-ului, deschis de la ora 11. Eram oarecum nerabdatoare si frematam hartiuta din buzunar intre degete. Prima imagine pe care am avut-o, atunci cand am deschis usa a fost un manechin imbracat intr-o capa neagra, translucida de la Ann Demeulemeester:
EN: I guess I was in front of the showroom, since on my little stolen note (from the hotel) wrote “Paris Street no. 45” and as I looked up and shoved it in my pocket the background blur vanished and the addresses matched. The cars were parked in the middle of the road and they left color marks behind them. The whole scene was motionless, as if time stopped: the street was empty, only the leaves swaying in the wind.
I rang the doorbell, but, as I expected, there was no sound. I look to the left, then to the right: nothing was moving. Without looking back, I entered the building; a huge white door stood before me, while to its left wrote the showroom’s schedule: it opened at 11am. I was a little excited, so I kept fidgeting with the paper in my pocket. The first thing I saw as I opened the door was a mannequin dresses in an Ann Demeulemeester translucent black cape.
RO: Din gatul intrerupt busc al manechinului, privirea imi urca necontrolat spre tavanul inalt al cladirii, dupa care urmareste linii drepte si coboara spre parchetul vechi. Incaperea din stanga mea era dedicata in totalitate item-urilor negre: pe standerul din stanga se afla o rochie dantelata de la Chanel, imediat langa ea curgeau panglici negre dintr-o rochie sobra, lineara, Lanvin, langa ele, o pereche pantaloni de stofa Prada, o salopeta Yves Saint Laurent care-mi parea cunoscuta…
Pe masuta din mijlocul camerei se afla o geanta Yves Saint Laurent, o pereche de pantofi Christian Louboutin cu detalii din crepe satin, marimea 38 si o lumanare Tales of London. Ma aplec sa miros lumanarea care sedea stinsa pe masuta, iau paharul de sticla in mana si inspir puternic aroma ademenitoare, in timp ce privesc umerasele din jurul meu, de jos. La un moment dat insa, am zarit o jacheta de piele Balmain.
EN: I looked up at the tall ceiling, then my eyes wander back down, to the old wooden floor. The room on my left is dedicated solely to black items: on the stander I could spot a Chanel dress and right next to her were ribbons flowing from a sober, linear Lanvin dress. Besides them were a pair of Prada pants and an Yves Saint Laurent overall that looked very familiar.
There was a table in the middle of the room, on which sprawled an Yves Saint Laurent purse, a pair of satined Louboutin heels and a Tales of London candle. I bent a little to smell the candle, grabbed the glass and breathed in its scent as I kept looking around me. At one point I spotted a Balmain leather jacket.
RO: In tot timpul asta, gandeam cu voce tare: “Cine te-a adus pe tine aici…? Tare as vrea sa-i vad garderoba”. Fara doar si poate, era cea mai grea jecheta de piele pe care am tinut-o vreodata in mana. Ma asez cu genunchii pe divanul de la fereastra, imi proptesc mainile pe pervaz si ma inclin curioasa spre curte, cu ochii mijiti. Da’ chiar nu e nimeni aici…? Las jacheta pe divan, ma ridic si inspectez locul dintr-o privire. Nu era de-ajuns asa ca am prins umerasul cu doua degete, l-am invartit in aer ca si cum greutatea n-ar fi contat si-am plecat cu geaca pe spate. Dau o tura prin showroom, ma indrept spre ceva ce pare a fi capatul acestui apartament, in stanga mea se lungeste un raft de sticla pe care sunt expusi o pereche de pantofi din piele intoarsa, Casadei. Ii iau in mana si agat in drumul meu si-o geanta neagra Chanel. Ii gasisem mai devreme o camasa alba cu volane Roberto Cavalli si o pereche de pantaloni negri, tot Chanel. Bantuiam prin showroom cu bratele pline de piese pe care ultima data le vazusem cu ani in urma, piese pe care nu aveai oricum de unde sa le mai achizitionezi…
EN: All the while I was thinking out loud: “Who brought you here…? I’d love to see her wardrobe!”. I was the heaviest leather jacket I ever held. I sat on the chair next to the window, lean against the windowsill and look outside curiously. “Is there really no one here?”. I left the jacket on the chair, got up and took another good look around the room. I grabbed the hanger with two fingers, swirled it in the air, as if it had no weight at all and left with the jacket hanging against my back. As I headed to what seemed to be the end of the apartment, on my left I spotted a pair of suede Casadei. I grabbed them, together with a Chanel purse, which I paired with a Roberto Cavalli shirt and a pair of pants, that were also Chanel. I was wandering around the showroom, my arms filled with items I’ve seen years ago, that you could no longer buy, from anywhere else at least, today.
RO: Ma plimbasem dintr-o camera in alta si daca ar fi fost posibil mi-as fi dorit sa vad harta showroom-ului, ori o imagine birds eye view, cu toti pasii pe care i-am facut, pentru ca ma miscam in continuu, de vreo doua ore. M-am asezat pe canapea, in ultima incapere aerisita din apartament… era o scrumiera pe masa si drept urmare mi-am aprins o tigara, uitandu-ma in oglinda. Fumul se repezea sa scape prin varful tigarii, formand spirale diforme in aerul cald. O raza imensa de lumina se taia a patra incapere pe care o aflasem si se stingea pe un teanc de reviste de moda, stivuite pe masura rotunda.
Parul imi era lipit de cap, intr-o coada joasa, purtam o pereche de pantaloni albi la dunga si o camasa bej, larga. In mod ciudat, imi aminteam de undeva aceasta imagine, insa ma vedeam patial, printre umerase cu haine atarnate pe aceasta oglina imensa, in patru unghiuri, care se afla-naintea mea. Ma uitam cand la fereastra, cand la sandalele Giuseppe Zanotti de pe covor. Dintre toate piesele pe care le-am gasit aici, erau preferatele mele. Inca ma gandeam la un Little Black Dress care sa le puna in evidenta…
EN: I kept walking from room to room and if I could I wanted to see the showroom’s map, or a birds eye view of my steps, since I had been walking around for two hours straight. I sat on the couch, in the last room. There was an ash tray on the table, so I lit a cigarette while looking in the mirror. The smoke was streaming out, forming spirals in the hot air. A huge ray of light was cutting the fourth room, slowly dying out on a stash of fashion magazines that were laying on a round table.
My hair stood glued to my head, in a low ponytail. I was wearing a pair of white pants and a cream, loose shirt. Strangely, the picture looked familiar. I saw myself partially, between hangers and clothes, in the huge mirror. I was looking on the window, then my attention shifted to the Guiseppe Zanotti sandals that sat in front of me. Out of all the items I saw that day, they were my favourite. I was thinking about the perfect Little Black Dress to highlight them…
RO: Sting tigara la jumate’ si imi dau jos pantofii, dupa care ma lungesc pe canapea. Simteam o oboseala crunta, dar datorita carui fapt? Pana la urma tot ce am facut a fost sa cercetez showroom-ul si sa-mi imaginez tinute. Am schimbat locul produselor si-am adunat in fata mea cateva dintre acele piese care de-a lungul timpului au ajuns pe lista mea de tristete: SOLD OUT. Raman intinsa pe spate pe canapea si citesc cu coada ochiului: D, W, Ô, M, E. Dupa ore de liniste, in care parca nici hainele nu fosnisera-ntre ele, apare un sunet familiar: clanta usii de la intrare si pe fundal, o melodie cristalina care se accentua cu trecerea fiecarei secunde. Privesc ceasul de pe petere. Era tot 11 dimineata… imposibil!
– M-a trezit soneria telefonului. Ma aflam in patul meu de la hotel, pe strada Paris, nu departe de showroom. Pe ecran apare: Catalina DWÔME. “Nu pot sa cred, cat e ceasul…?” Era 10:45. Raspund la telefon si Catalina imi spune ca e jos, in masina si ma asteapta. Imi iau o pereche de pantaloni albi la dunga, o camasa vintage bej, imi prind rapid parul intr-o coada joasa si cobor… imi aprind o tigara si ma indrept spre masina. Stiti cum se spune: “Cei care viseaza ziua sunt constienti de multe lucruri care le scapa celor care viseaza doar noaptea…”
Iar acesta n-a fost un vis despre obsesia mea, ori a femeilor pentru cumparaturi, ci despre ceea ce ne bantuie real: piesele pe care nu le-am cumparat, desi aveam ocazia sa le cumparam si care se potrivesc in mod extraordinar cu tinuta pe care vrem sa o purtam azi. Regrete in fata oglinzii. Asta e cea mai scurta poveste horror spusa vreodata si anume: SOLD OUT. Dincolo de basic-urile din garderoba fiecarei femei, se afla un stander intreg cu piese statement sau un stander plin de umerase singuratice care se rotesc incet, parca miscate de dorinta de a sustine un item pe care nu il mai gasesti. Desi notiunea de pre-owned luxury este una noua in Romania, am intalnit in acea dimineata de vara o echipa pasionata, care lucreaza zi-lumina pentru a aduce piese noi in showroom-ul lor, echipa care se reuneste sub conceptul DWÔME Store. Va invit insa sa intrati si pe site, ca sa vedeti cum sta treaba cu timpul care sta in loc si sa descoperiti item-uri luxury pre-owned pe care probabil le visati si voi, de mult. Toate hainele din acest shooting sunt disponibile (intr-o singura bucata, evident, pentru ca visul e dulce) in showroom-ul lor din Bucuresti, pe strada Paris numarul 45 . Acolo “…am dat fituica la o parte si fundalul isi pierdea, treptat, din blur: adresele se suprapuneau”
EN: I put out the cigarette and I took off my shoes, so that I could lay down on the couch. I felt terribly tired, but why? After all, all I did was walk around and create outfits. I moved items around and gathered in front of me some of those that ended up on my sad list: SOLD OUT. I keep laying on the couch and read out loud: D, W, Ô, M, E. After a few hours of silence, in which not even the clothes made a sound, I heard a familiar noise: the doorknob. In the background I could hear a song that got louder every second. I took a peak at the clock on the wall. It was still 11am… impossible!
My phone woke me up. I was in my hotel room, in bed, on Paris street, not far from the showroom. On the screen I saw: Catalina DWÔME. “I can’t believe this, what time it is?!” It was 10:45. I pick up and Catalina tells me that she is downstairs, in the car, waiting for me. I pull on a pair of white pants, a vintage cream shirt and I pull my hair in a low ponytail as I went down the stairs. I light up a cigarette and head to the car. You know how they say: “The ones who dream during the day are aware of a lot more than those who only dream during the night”.
This was not a dream about my obsession, or any woman’s when it comes to shopping, but about something that hunts us for real: the items we did not buy and ended up regretting it. The shortest horror story ever is: SOLD OUT. Besides the basics in everyone’s wardrobe, there’s a full stander filled with statement pieces, or empty hangers that sigh after the items you can no longer find. Even though the concept of pre-owned luxury is new in Romania, this morning I met a passionate team, who work day and night to bring new items in their showroom. The team created DWÔME Store. I hope you will visit their site, so you can read more about how time stands still and discover pre-owned luxury items that you’ve probably been dreaming for. All the items featured in this shooting are available (one piece only, since the dream is bittersweet…) in their showroom in Bucharest, on Paris street no 45. There “… as I looked up and shoved the note in my pocket the background blur vanished and the addresses matched”.
Photos by Eduard Mariut, taken on a summer afternoon at Mogosoaia Palace, Bucharest | Find all the items on dwomestore.com | visit them in Bucharest on street Paris 45.
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