History Repeating

Okay, yesterday was Sunday, right? That means I’m at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and it’s the largest collection of Egyptian objects outside of Egypt (I believe) It also means an unreasonable amount of squeezing like a fangirl, and I did not disappoint on that front. Even writing about it now is making me happy internally. There’s a metric buttonne of pictures on Flickr for those of you who care but for me? I lose myself in a civilisation that has fascinated me since, I’ll freely admit, a book of my parents on Tutankhamun. Before then I didn’t have a clue about anything related to life before Christ. Now, it has become one of my favorite diversions as an adult.

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There is a remarkable amount of scope in the Met’s collection, it must be said, and the curation insider this museum is very reminiscent of the V&A in terms of sympathy and situation. However it was the number of small objects that stunned me: tiny, intricate pieces of art, hand-worked jewelry, pots, painted panels… The range was staggering. I’ve realised I want more pieces of Egyptian art in my life, something I’ll attempt to remedy on my return to the UK. For now, I’m just staggered by the details: so many, and all so totally beautiful. Many new blog headers will be created as a result.

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However it wasn’t just Egypt on display: quite fortuitously for me, there was a special exhibit on clothing: Manus x Machina: Fashion in an Age of Technology. This meant an entire area dedicated to some of the most iconic looks in modern fashion, and how contemporary designers are using cutting edge materials and processes to reinvent the iconic looks. However much I was impressed by the colours, use of 3D printed materials or fabrics? It was the black evening gowns that reduced me to speechless wonder. There was one Coco Chanel dress in particular, from the 1920’s, which is as close to perfect as I think I’ve ever seen fabric designed. I may not wear makeup, or spend hours on my appearance, but I sure as fuck know special when I see it.

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So, I bought a catalogue, all $55 of it. I don’t remember the last time I spent that much on anything printed, but it is worth every single cent. Then we walked through Central Park, and visited Dana Barratt’s apartment block which, on cue, had nothing thunder and lightning burst forth around it shortly before the heavens opened and soaked the world. Then it was Dominos and the Olympics and I don’t care I only got about five hours sleep because yesterday was officially my best day for some time.

I LOVE THIS TOWN.