Following our run in at MBFWA, last week I was delighted to receive a love heart covered envelope from talented designer Ana Diaz. Inside were a series of postcards and swing tags from her latest collection State High, an easy, breezy and incredibly wearable ode to coming of age, crabs and the school girl that remains in us always. Within the campaign imagery of highway hangs and those overalls is a collage of glitter, eyes and some dear diary words I wrote for the collection a few months ago. It always so nice to see things come together, and I’m crushing hard on all of the elements that Ana has brought together. A solid Bris-vegas effort by dream team Sarah Birchley as stylist and Megan Cullen as photographer and director (with a short film to come). I can’t wait to see the full campaign once it’s released. In the mean time you can purchase yourself some crab-covered nails and off the shoulder midriffs here, oh and read the full story while you wait for them to wind up in your letter box…
The Diaz girls Dear Diary,
Today was the last day of State High. No more teachers, no more books and all that jazz. Finally, we are rebels without a cause. For the most part, it’s been a blast. A wild ride of fast times and slow moments. Crushes, crashes, rejections, wipeouts and butterflys. After the yearbooks were signed and the cheers for those final moments took place, we headed to the cliched end of school beach party for the very last hurrah before the summer and the rest of our lives began.
There, after a few red cups, hook ups and drunken confessions of high school love, after the soon-to-be frat boys had passed out on the sand and the girls we hoped to never see again had disappeared into the sunset, we played a game of ‘remember when.’
Like remember when Miss Rosemary gave us a C for the overalls we decorated in home ec class? I mean sure we might not have touched a sewing machine all semester, but our hours spent doodling shapes using post paints certainly made for impressive forms of contemporary fashion. In our eyes at least.
Oh and who could forget when we all had crushes on Billy Jessop? At the time drooling over his leather jacket and, after much deliberation, deciding that the best outfit to wear it with was a grey sweatshirt and jeans. His jacket hung over one shoulder just so. Unfortunately none of us made it with him nor got to wear the jacket. No matter how much we tried to influence our cosmic powers during spin the bottle games, it just wasn’t in the stars.
Remember that night we all snuck out past curfew because we were bored? Then again that happened a lot of nights. Especially in the summer. We’d ride our bikes down to the beach for a midnight dip in the moonlight, set up a bonfire and stay up all night to watch the sunrise over the water. Sleeping in on the weekends caused a lot of grief from the parents but it was always so worth it.
And then there was that year when we shared custody of that green hooded parka jacket. The perfect parka that we’d all pooled our money for and took turns wearing each day. Our hair braided after much practice at sleep overs. Always fastened with the scrunchies we’d make for each other in detention.
Looking back its amazing to think we even survived high school, let alone had fun. Endless friendship bracelets, occasional herbal refreshments and always in pastel pink. Backpacks strewn over one shoulder. Shirt dresses worn with socks and sandals. Unruly brows teamed with unruly times. Glitter gel on our eyes and hope in our hearts. Hope we’d be noticed. We’d be accepted. Celebrated and commended. Something tells me that while the glitter rubs off, that hope will always remain.
The convenient definitions of girl gangs, geeks, surfers, sport stars and cheerleaders may be over, but for now we’re all left to share the one collective title. We’re the kids from State High. Finally a term we can wear proudly.
The Diaz girls