white lines only separate me from me

It's a bit more complicated here.  I've been studying the urban, academically and experientially--finding that balance between self-expression and space-invasion.  I decided to start out with a monochrome palette, which turned out to be an excellent decision. 

Stripes and plaids are the planned city, the grid, the ruled.  Animal prints are the organic city, the element of the unexpected in interacting with a thousand strangers a day. 

This would be paired each day with the Sartorialist's famous "pop of colo(u)r", usually yellow because I reject the bizarre notion that it's "hard to wear" and it's not associated with ongoing regional feuds.

It was not at all long before I slipped back into greens and earth tones, though, let me tell you.  It's hard to get excited about wearing black in a European city.  I also can't be fucked with wearing the prevailing styles of women my age in the area: short shorts with opaque tights, shemaghs, Superdry.  Instead I find I'm most comfortable when I look just a little off in a clearly intentional way.