Cruella’s Sister

Wearing the print of the moment – dalmatian – makes me think about Cruella de Vil. Growing up in the 90s, Cruella was probably the first strong and independent female character I remember. She is lead by her desire for fashion (in her case an illegal fur coat) and liking her was a rebellious thing: She is not at all the kind of role model my parents wanted me to have. But as a grown-up woman, I must say I’m probably more Cruella then Disney princess.

Just like Cruella, fashion is my life and I’d not go over corpses (neither animal nor human) for my dream handbag, but it’s the fashion that excites me unlike anything else. Cruella’s short halted breath when she unwrapped her fur coat could as well be something I feel when I open a Moschino box. Unlike me, Cruella is a nasty woman, but what we have in common is independence in our actions and a strong will to make our dreams come true. Cruella (lucky her) found a partner who supports her in this, I am just a one-woman show, without even pets.

We are both the kind of woman that is rarely displayed in the media, I suspect it’s because we are uncomfortable and not living the life of a married woman, we take care of our wardrobe instead of screaming kids and laugh at the world when we have a new pair of shoes in our hands. This is not what earns a lot of applause: Even in our diverse society, I think the majority of people still appreciates women who go the classical way, get married, have kids and plant a tree with their husband. I often hear people admiring this kind of woman. But when did I ever hear somebody saying “Oh you independent women don’t have an easy life neither, you have to handle all by yourself and it’s so much you do”. Never, right? Yes exactly, that’s my point. Cruellas don’t get praise.

Lucky Cruella can be ok with that: She has her husband to go home to and her perfect coat, her world is at peace. I have, well…. A lot of fashion dreams in my closet but open the door to my apartment every day to find dark silence waiting there. If I want to have a surprise I have to work hard for it and then order it myself, if I mess up things I have to fix them, no knight ready to save me and nobody there to hug me when I cry at home after a frustrating day. This is what being independent means. But it also means everything I am and everything I achieved is here because of my own efforts.

I work at a design agency as a creative director 40+ hours a week, run my blog, organise shootings, edit my pictures, teach young graphic designers, go to the gym twice a week and attend a lot of events. I have friends I love to the moon and back and a big network of social contacts. I am happy with all the variety and excitement that this life I created has to offer and don’t take it for granted. Nevertheless, I feel frustrated too often about having dinner alone, about dragging home groceries and cursing my inability to carry heavy weights and about experiencing a wonderful full moon on my terrace and getting melancholic because I’d wish to share the experienced beauty so very much. But most of all I get sad that people rarely see that being alone doesn’t mean just daily party and no work.

Independence is a very ambivalent thing and if it’s love or hate can’t be answered by multiple-choice answers. Sometimes I’m happy, sometimes I’m not. When not I might treat myself with a lavish gift and have that Cruella expression on my face when I open the box and just know: It’s all mine.

My Outfit
Dress: Trendyol from Zalando, Jacket: old, Belly bag: New Look from Zalando, Sunglasses: Le Specs, Earrings: Swarovski, Tights: Calzedonia, Shoes: Raid from Zalando,
Snake Ring: Animazul, Eye Ring: Swarovski (old)

Pictures: Marco Borromeo
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