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The voyage of Julia Nikolaeva
30 Mar '11
3 min read
The wonderful Fall-Winter collection of Julia Nikolaeva will be held on April 4, within the bounds of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Russia, which is to take place in the Congress-Hall of World Trade Center from March 31 'till April 5, 2011.
What is the connection between the Cousteau odyssey and taffeta piece? Between the sailor's stripped vest and elegance? Between the barrel of rum and hand drawn prints? Between the wool sweater and fashion show? Between the great naval campaign s and peaceful crackling of the sewing machine? Between the Norman fisherman and the Russian designer? It's pretty obvious — the romance of the discovery.
How does a new image, new silhouette, new idea appears? From the memories of what never existed, what has happened, but not with us, that is, in general — could have never existed. How to connect the drawing on fabrics with the dreams? Sewn by threads, pined together and tied up by knitting needles.
Who knows where the romantic will break in through the tight armor of cynical. Who knows how in the city, where there are only puddles, the ocean can appear. Who knows why the intelligent and adult in a minute is covered by ecstatic rapture from the closeness of the discovery. When the dangerous, cold, unexplored sea splashes on lips. When the gray overflows in the dark blue. When the cold dawn is shot with red. When the white foam covers the mirror-like water with furrows. When the skin protects from the wind. When there's wind and storm.
Who knows where a romantic break in through a tight armor cynical. Who knows how in a city where there is only a puddle, there is the ocean. Who knows why an intelligent and adult in every puppy enthusiasm swept from near the opening. When a dangerous, cold, unknown sea sailors salty sprinkles on her lips. When poured in a blue gray. When the cold dawn streaked with red. When a white streak of foam plies monotonous expanse of water. When the skin is protected from the wind. When the wind and storm.
Dark blue, grey, blue, rough, soft, stripe, jacket, shorts, sunglasses, beads, coats, pants, tops, skirts, dress, hat with pom-poms, blue, grey, stripe, jacket. Graphic prints, wool, cashmere, jersey, denim, silk, crepe de Chine, taffeta, silk, print, wool. Scows full of sailor's striped vests — isn't that a great catch? The artist reserves the right for a few endings, when accurately defining theme and drawing portraits, unwinding the relationship thread, stitching the details. What the journey will end with — nobody knows. Romance — a tough game.
What is the connection between the Cousteau odyssey and taffeta piece? Between the sailor's stripped vest and elegance? Between the barrel of rum and hand drawn prints? Between the wool sweater and fashion show? Between the great naval campaign s and peaceful crackling of the sewing machine? Between the Norman fisherman and the Russian designer? It's pretty obvious — the romance of the discovery.
How does a new image, new silhouette, new idea appears? From the memories of what never existed, what has happened, but not with us, that is, in general — could have never existed. How to connect the drawing on fabrics with the dreams? Sewn by threads, pined together and tied up by knitting needles.
Who knows where the romantic will break in through the tight armor of cynical. Who knows how in the city, where there are only puddles, the ocean can appear. Who knows why the intelligent and adult in a minute is covered by ecstatic rapture from the closeness of the discovery. When the dangerous, cold, unexplored sea splashes on lips. When the gray overflows in the dark blue. When the cold dawn is shot with red. When the white foam covers the mirror-like water with furrows. When the skin protects from the wind. When there's wind and storm.
Who knows where a romantic break in through a tight armor cynical. Who knows how in a city where there is only a puddle, there is the ocean. Who knows why an intelligent and adult in every puppy enthusiasm swept from near the opening. When a dangerous, cold, unknown sea sailors salty sprinkles on her lips. When poured in a blue gray. When the cold dawn streaked with red. When a white streak of foam plies monotonous expanse of water. When the skin is protected from the wind. When the wind and storm.
Dark blue, grey, blue, rough, soft, stripe, jacket, shorts, sunglasses, beads, coats, pants, tops, skirts, dress, hat with pom-poms, blue, grey, stripe, jacket. Graphic prints, wool, cashmere, jersey, denim, silk, crepe de Chine, taffeta, silk, print, wool. Scows full of sailor's striped vests — isn't that a great catch? The artist reserves the right for a few endings, when accurately defining theme and drawing portraits, unwinding the relationship thread, stitching the details. What the journey will end with — nobody knows. Romance — a tough game.
Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Russia
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