#Logomaniac

[imagek]

Postcard - Logomaniac Pliosaur Sassy, Accept Clinical P, Scene foggy and shaky colorful texture hovering over plain floor

Abstract designs challenge traditional notions of representation, inviting viewers to appreciate art in a more imaginative and non-literal manner. Abstract designs are artistic compositions that prioritize the use of shapes, lines, colors, and forms divorced from their representational or real-world references. Abstract art is a diverse and innovative artistic movement that prioritizes non-representational and non-figurative forms. Art allows you to explore and express their creativity beyond the constraints of depicting recognizable objects or scenes.

Logomaniac Pliosaur Sassy, Postcard.

Order available in @Redbubble

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Getty Images It’s endearing to witness someone’s style evolve as they age. It’s why many fashion lovers believe the youth-obsessed, youth-dependent fashion world should platform mature talent more often. Because as you age, your taste is increasingly defined. You wear clothes differently, with credibility, given you’ve had them forever, and every imperfection bespeaks your body’s contours. Your dress, one hopes, not only gains sophistication but stays ever-traceable to its roots. Of all that makes André 3000 special, that’s what I’ve found particularly remarkable lately since not all rappers carry the aesthetic that was once their signature well into adulthood. Where Busta Rhymes was once the unflinchingly offbeat dresser misunderstood by many, he now favors the conventional codes of hip-hop showiness. Some other artists of his era, too, have become faltering logomaniacs. And Snoop Dogg, whose Rastafarian-inspired locs mark the most, if only notable shift in his appearance, can hardly be seen in more than a bomber jacket, a matching set, requisite jewelry, and the occasional bucket hat. Photo Credit: M. Caulfield/WireImage for VH-1 Channel Right now it appears that there is a fashionable decline of the generals. But even a veteran fashion reporter immersed in the world of clothes has confessed to me that hers are much, much less a priority now than when she was working in the industry. Fashion as you age can indeed become the least important component of life. Not so for André! He remains a trailblazer in matters of the cloth, which throughout his career has covered his flawlessly pressed and permed hair in the form of a church lady-inspired headwrap, dandified his many silhouettes through suiting, been seer suckered for overalls worn with diva-like sunglasses and a ribbed beanie.  His GQ Men of The Year photoshoot in that outfit is what many of us associate with what we’ve referred to as the artist’s “flute era.” His 2023 debut solo and now Grammy-nominated instrumental album New Blue Sun would make apparent his artistic expansion as a flutist, symbolizing his prevailing stylistic prowess despite puzzlements over his sonic shift. But that is the stuff that has made André 3000 the nonpareil figure we’ve come to adore. Patrick Johnson, a scholar and Sonoma State professor of American multicultural studies, sees the rapper’s style choices as metaphors that help narrate a bigger composition. “It’s the glasses; it’s the little notes he’s hitting in his fashion that says, ‘Okay, I’m thinking about these things differently, I’m flipping it,’” Johnson shared. But the reason he’s so relatable, so fly to us, is put plainly by Johnson. “André never feels outside of what other brothers are doing.” He isn’t entirely separate from or, say, weirdly above his peers who were “wearing jerseys and pink, furry Kangos. He was very much in relationship with what other Black men were doing,” Johnson continued. Photo Credit: SGranitz/WireImage André 3000 has influenced rap eccentrics his junior whose idiosyncratic sensibility is seen in their sound and clothes: California’s Tyler, the Creator, Cavalier from Brooklyn, and EarthGang, the Atlanta group for which Spelman’s curator in residence Karen Lowe brings OutKast to mind. Knowing André is knowing he comprised half of the classic rap duo OutKast, and the mention of their infamous video, “Hey Ya!,” will summon the image of him clad in a St. Patty’s green button-up, wide, white suspenders affixed to tartan trousers, and a green and black peppermint ascot, vigorously singing and bobbing his head with a shoulder-length bob. Those are the accouterments of an outstandingly dressed Black man, a dandy, to be sure, but that gives way to André centering himself in the video–self-replicating and standing in as seemingly minor characters. And in effect displaying his creative range. He’s a Black man who isn’t afraid to play with ideas, a quality Johnson describes as instructive. “Think about the Benjamin Bixby stuff. At some point, “André embraced prep and Americana through a distinctly Southern perspective,” he explains. Here Johnson also mentions Benjamin Bixby, the now-defunct clothing line by the artist that centered around Black dandyism. Photo Credit: Julia Beverly/Getty Images Lowe agrees. Three years ago, she spearheaded an open-air digital exhibition titled “The South Got Something to Say,” taken from the rapper’s 1995 Source Awards speech, where he called out the ceremony and its dismissal of the South’s contributions to the genre when we were shaping it in real-time. But the region, however influential and formative, hasn’t always been so free for Black men with expressive style. The curator mentions that the same can be said about Black culture at large. André 3000’s narrative is emancipatory; he represents a rare liberty. As a Black Southern man, he personifies a freedom that permits individuality without always being misunderstood. Lowe, who, like André 3000, is an Atlanta native, speaks to his free nature in “how he moves” and “not being defined by stereotypes and expectations.” To her, he appears to be mentally free. At times, he outright defies culturally imposed notions, like when he wears ultra-preppy clothing, he one-ups their assumed originators. Photo Credit: Barry Brecheisen/WireImage Other times, he plays into them as one of hip hop’s significant titans nonetheless. But he isn’t bound to either: in music or fashion. His references can be so rich they go over your head, such as his wearing a white wig in Outkast’s “Prototype” video, referencing P-Funk, a doo-wop band out of New Jersey. (A white wig he wore during one of his international concerts in 2014 is on view at the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s Musical Crossroads Gallery.) Lessons aplenty can be learned from the explorer, the inventor, the experimenter, and the man that is André 3000—among them that a childlike enthusiasm for clothing can prevent one’s style from going stale, that our wardrobes can effectively be toy boxes. His strange swagger shows how the hodgepodge of influences that often make a terrific outfit should be honest. And that the most genuinely iconic dressers in American history stayed curious. Who else has done that while keeping as suave as the best-dressed men in our families? Source link

[norajworld]

Getty Images It’s endearing to witness someone’s style evolve as they age. It’s why many fashion lovers believe the youth-obsessed, youth-dependent fashion world should platform mature talent more often. Because as you age, your taste is increasingly defined. You wear clothes differently, with credibility, given you’ve had them forever, and every imperfection bespeaks your body’s contours. Your dress, one hopes, not only gains sophistication but stays ever-traceable to its roots. Of all that makes André 3000 special, that’s what I’ve found particularly remarkable lately since not all rappers carry the aesthetic that was once their signature well into adulthood. Where Busta Rhymes was once the unflinchingly offbeat dresser misunderstood by many, he now favors the conventional codes of hip-hop showiness. Some other artists of his era, too, have become faltering logomaniacs. And Snoop Dogg, whose Rastafarian-inspired locs mark the most, if only notable shift in his appearance, can hardly be seen in more than a bomber jacket, a matching set, requisite jewelry, and the occasional bucket hat. Photo Credit: M. Caulfield/WireImage for VH-1 Channel Right now it appears that there is a fashionable decline of the generals. But even a veteran fashion reporter immersed in the world of clothes has confessed to me that hers are much, much less a priority now than when she was working in the industry. Fashion as you age can indeed become the least important component of life. Not so for André! He remains a trailblazer in matters of the cloth, which throughout his career has covered his flawlessly pressed and permed hair in the form of a church lady-inspired headwrap, dandified his many silhouettes through suiting, been seer suckered for overalls worn with diva-like sunglasses and a ribbed beanie.  His GQ Men of The Year photoshoot in that outfit is what many of us associate with what we’ve referred to as the artist’s “flute era.” His 2023 debut solo and now Grammy-nominated instrumental album New Blue Sun would make apparent his artistic expansion as a flutist, symbolizing his prevailing stylistic prowess despite puzzlements over his sonic shift. But that is the stuff that has made André 3000 the nonpareil figure we’ve come to adore. Patrick Johnson, a scholar and Sonoma State professor of American multicultural studies, sees the rapper’s style choices as metaphors that help narrate a bigger composition. “It’s the glasses; it’s the little notes he’s hitting in his fashion that says, ‘Okay, I’m thinking about these things differently, I’m flipping it,’” Johnson shared. But the reason he’s so relatable, so fly to us, is put plainly by Johnson. “André never feels outside of what other brothers are doing.” He isn’t entirely separate from or, say, weirdly above his peers who were “wearing jerseys and pink, furry Kangos. He was very much in relationship with what other Black men were doing,” Johnson continued. Photo Credit: SGranitz/WireImage André 3000 has influenced rap eccentrics his junior whose idiosyncratic sensibility is seen in their sound and clothes: California’s Tyler, the Creator, Cavalier from Brooklyn, and EarthGang, the Atlanta group for which Spelman’s curator in residence Karen Lowe brings OutKast to mind. Knowing André is knowing he comprised half of the classic rap duo OutKast, and the mention of their infamous video, “Hey Ya!,” will summon the image of him clad in a St. Patty’s green button-up, wide, white suspenders affixed to tartan trousers, and a green and black peppermint ascot, vigorously singing and bobbing his head with a shoulder-length bob. Those are the accouterments of an outstandingly dressed Black man, a dandy, to be sure, but that gives way to André centering himself in the video–self-replicating and standing in as seemingly minor characters. And in effect displaying his creative range. He’s a Black man who isn’t afraid to play with ideas, a quality Johnson describes as instructive. “Think about the Benjamin Bixby stuff. At some point, “André embraced prep and Americana through a distinctly Southern perspective,” he explains. Here Johnson also mentions Benjamin Bixby, the now-defunct clothing line by the artist that centered around Black dandyism. Photo Credit: Julia Beverly/Getty Images Lowe agrees. Three years ago, she spearheaded an open-air digital exhibition titled “The South Got Something to Say,” taken from the rapper’s 1995 Source Awards speech, where he called out the ceremony and its dismissal of the South’s contributions to the genre when we were shaping it in real-time. But the region, however influential and formative, hasn’t always been so free for Black men with expressive style. The curator mentions that the same can be said about Black culture at large. André 3000’s narrative is emancipatory; he represents a rare liberty. As a Black Southern man, he personifies a freedom that permits individuality without always being misunderstood. Lowe, who, like André 3000, is an Atlanta native, speaks to his free nature in “how he moves” and “not being defined by stereotypes and expectations.” To her, he appears to be mentally free. At times, he outright defies culturally imposed notions, like when he wears ultra-preppy clothing, he one-ups their assumed originators. Photo Credit: Barry Brecheisen/WireImage Other times, he plays into them as one of hip hop’s significant titans nonetheless. But he isn’t bound to either: in music or fashion. His references can be so rich they go over your head, such as his wearing a white wig in Outkast’s “Prototype” video, referencing P-Funk, a doo-wop band out of New Jersey. (A white wig he wore during one of his international concerts in 2014 is on view at the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s Musical Crossroads Gallery.) Lessons aplenty can be learned from the explorer, the inventor, the experimenter, and the man that is André 3000—among them that a childlike enthusiasm for clothing can prevent one’s style from going stale, that our wardrobes can effectively be toy boxes. His strange swagger shows how the hodgepodge of influences that often make a terrific outfit should be honest. And that the most genuinely iconic dressers in American history stayed curious. Who else has done that while keeping as suave as the best-dressed men in our families? Source link

[ellajme0]

Getty Images It’s endearing to witness someone’s style evolve as they age. It’s why many fashion lovers believe the youth-obsessed, youth-dependent fashion world should platform mature talent more often. Because as you age, your taste is increasingly defined. You wear clothes differently, with credibility, given you’ve had them forever, and every imperfection bespeaks your body’s contours. Your dress, one hopes, not only gains sophistication but stays ever-traceable to its roots. Of all that makes André 3000 special, that’s what I’ve found particularly remarkable lately since not all rappers carry the aesthetic that was once their signature well into adulthood. Where Busta Rhymes was once the unflinchingly offbeat dresser misunderstood by many, he now favors the conventional codes of hip-hop showiness. Some other artists of his era, too, have become faltering logomaniacs. And Snoop Dogg, whose Rastafarian-inspired locs mark the most, if only notable shift in his appearance, can hardly be seen in more than a bomber jacket, a matching set, requisite jewelry, and the occasional bucket hat. Photo Credit: M. Caulfield/WireImage for VH-1 Channel Right now it appears that there is a fashionable decline of the generals. But even a veteran fashion reporter immersed in the world of clothes has confessed to me that hers are much, much less a priority now than when she was working in the industry. Fashion as you age can indeed become the least important component of life. Not so for André! He remains a trailblazer in matters of the cloth, which throughout his career has covered his flawlessly pressed and permed hair in the form of a church lady-inspired headwrap, dandified his many silhouettes through suiting, been seer suckered for overalls worn with diva-like sunglasses and a ribbed beanie.  His GQ Men of The Year photoshoot in that outfit is what many of us associate with what we’ve referred to as the artist’s “flute era.” His 2023 debut solo and now Grammy-nominated instrumental album New Blue Sun would make apparent his artistic expansion as a flutist, symbolizing his prevailing stylistic prowess despite puzzlements over his sonic shift. But that is the stuff that has made André 3000 the nonpareil figure we’ve come to adore. Patrick Johnson, a scholar and Sonoma State professor of American multicultural studies, sees the rapper’s style choices as metaphors that help narrate a bigger composition. “It’s the glasses; it’s the little notes he’s hitting in his fashion that says, ‘Okay, I’m thinking about these things differently, I’m flipping it,’” Johnson shared. But the reason he’s so relatable, so fly to us, is put plainly by Johnson. “André never feels outside of what other brothers are doing.” He isn’t entirely separate from or, say, weirdly above his peers who were “wearing jerseys and pink, furry Kangos. He was very much in relationship with what other Black men were doing,” Johnson continued. Photo Credit: SGranitz/WireImage André 3000 has influenced rap eccentrics his junior whose idiosyncratic sensibility is seen in their sound and clothes: California’s Tyler, the Creator, Cavalier from Brooklyn, and EarthGang, the Atlanta group for which Spelman’s curator in residence Karen Lowe brings OutKast to mind. Knowing André is knowing he comprised half of the classic rap duo OutKast, and the mention of their infamous video, “Hey Ya!,” will summon the image of him clad in a St. Patty’s green button-up, wide, white suspenders affixed to tartan trousers, and a green and black peppermint ascot, vigorously singing and bobbing his head with a shoulder-length bob. Those are the accouterments of an outstandingly dressed Black man, a dandy, to be sure, but that gives way to André centering himself in the video–self-replicating and standing in as seemingly minor characters. And in effect displaying his creative range. He’s a Black man who isn’t afraid to play with ideas, a quality Johnson describes as instructive. “Think about the Benjamin Bixby stuff. At some point, “André embraced prep and Americana through a distinctly Southern perspective,” he explains. Here Johnson also mentions Benjamin Bixby, the now-defunct clothing line by the artist that centered around Black dandyism. Photo Credit: Julia Beverly/Getty Images Lowe agrees. Three years ago, she spearheaded an open-air digital exhibition titled “The South Got Something to Say,” taken from the rapper’s 1995 Source Awards speech, where he called out the ceremony and its dismissal of the South’s contributions to the genre when we were shaping it in real-time. But the region, however influential and formative, hasn’t always been so free for Black men with expressive style. The curator mentions that the same can be said about Black culture at large. André 3000’s narrative is emancipatory; he represents a rare liberty. As a Black Southern man, he personifies a freedom that permits individuality without always being misunderstood. Lowe, who, like André 3000, is an Atlanta native, speaks to his free nature in “how he moves” and “not being defined by stereotypes and expectations.” To her, he appears to be mentally free. At times, he outright defies culturally imposed notions, like when he wears ultra-preppy clothing, he one-ups their assumed originators. Photo Credit: Barry Brecheisen/WireImage Other times, he plays into them as one of hip hop’s significant titans nonetheless. But he isn’t bound to either: in music or fashion. His references can be so rich they go over your head, such as his wearing a white wig in Outkast’s “Prototype” video, referencing P-Funk, a doo-wop band out of New Jersey. (A white wig he wore during one of his international concerts in 2014 is on view at the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s Musical Crossroads Gallery.) Lessons aplenty can be learned from the explorer, the inventor, the experimenter, and the man that is André 3000—among them that a childlike enthusiasm for clothing can prevent one’s style from going stale, that our wardrobes can effectively be toy boxes. His strange swagger shows how the hodgepodge of influences that often make a terrific outfit should be honest. And that the most genuinely iconic dressers in American history stayed curious. Who else has done that while keeping as suave as the best-dressed men in our families? Source link

[chilimili212]

Getty Images It’s endearing to witness someone’s style evolve as they age. It’s why many fashion lovers believe the youth-obsessed, youth-dependent fashion world should platform mature talent more often. Because as you age, your taste is increasingly defined. You wear clothes differently, with credibility, given you’ve had them forever, and every imperfection bespeaks your body’s contours. Your dress, one hopes, not only gains sophistication but stays ever-traceable to its roots. Of all that makes André 3000 special, that’s what I’ve found particularly remarkable lately since not all rappers carry the aesthetic that was once their signature well into adulthood. Where Busta Rhymes was once the unflinchingly offbeat dresser misunderstood by many, he now favors the conventional codes of hip-hop showiness. Some other artists of his era, too, have become faltering logomaniacs. And Snoop Dogg, whose Rastafarian-inspired locs mark the most, if only notable shift in his appearance, can hardly be seen in more than a bomber jacket, a matching set, requisite jewelry, and the occasional bucket hat. Photo Credit: M. Caulfield/WireImage for VH-1 Channel Right now it appears that there is a fashionable decline of the generals. But even a veteran fashion reporter immersed in the world of clothes has confessed to me that hers are much, much less a priority now than when she was working in the industry. Fashion as you age can indeed become the least important component of life. Not so for André! He remains a trailblazer in matters of the cloth, which throughout his career has covered his flawlessly pressed and permed hair in the form of a church lady-inspired headwrap, dandified his many silhouettes through suiting, been seer suckered for overalls worn with diva-like sunglasses and a ribbed beanie.  His GQ Men of The Year photoshoot in that outfit is what many of us associate with what we’ve referred to as the artist’s “flute era.” His 2023 debut solo and now Grammy-nominated instrumental album New Blue Sun would make apparent his artistic expansion as a flutist, symbolizing his prevailing stylistic prowess despite puzzlements over his sonic shift. But that is the stuff that has made André 3000 the nonpareil figure we’ve come to adore. Patrick Johnson, a scholar and Sonoma State professor of American multicultural studies, sees the rapper’s style choices as metaphors that help narrate a bigger composition. “It’s the glasses; it’s the little notes he’s hitting in his fashion that says, ‘Okay, I’m thinking about these things differently, I’m flipping it,’” Johnson shared. But the reason he’s so relatable, so fly to us, is put plainly by Johnson. “André never feels outside of what other brothers are doing.” He isn’t entirely separate from or, say, weirdly above his peers who were “wearing jerseys and pink, furry Kangos. He was very much in relationship with what other Black men were doing,” Johnson continued. Photo Credit: SGranitz/WireImage André 3000 has influenced rap eccentrics his junior whose idiosyncratic sensibility is seen in their sound and clothes: California’s Tyler, the Creator, Cavalier from Brooklyn, and EarthGang, the Atlanta group for which Spelman’s curator in residence Karen Lowe brings OutKast to mind. Knowing André is knowing he comprised half of the classic rap duo OutKast, and the mention of their infamous video, “Hey Ya!,” will summon the image of him clad in a St. Patty’s green button-up, wide, white suspenders affixed to tartan trousers, and a green and black peppermint ascot, vigorously singing and bobbing his head with a shoulder-length bob. Those are the accouterments of an outstandingly dressed Black man, a dandy, to be sure, but that gives way to André centering himself in the video–self-replicating and standing in as seemingly minor characters. And in effect displaying his creative range. He’s a Black man who isn’t afraid to play with ideas, a quality Johnson describes as instructive. “Think about the Benjamin Bixby stuff. At some point, “André embraced prep and Americana through a distinctly Southern perspective,” he explains. Here Johnson also mentions Benjamin Bixby, the now-defunct clothing line by the artist that centered around Black dandyism. Photo Credit: Julia Beverly/Getty Images Lowe agrees. Three years ago, she spearheaded an open-air digital exhibition titled “The South Got Something to Say,” taken from the rapper’s 1995 Source Awards speech, where he called out the ceremony and its dismissal of the South’s contributions to the genre when we were shaping it in real-time. But the region, however influential and formative, hasn’t always been so free for Black men with expressive style. The curator mentions that the same can be said about Black culture at large. André 3000’s narrative is emancipatory; he represents a rare liberty. As a Black Southern man, he personifies a freedom that permits individuality without always being misunderstood. Lowe, who, like André 3000, is an Atlanta native, speaks to his free nature in “how he moves” and “not being defined by stereotypes and expectations.” To her, he appears to be mentally free. At times, he outright defies culturally imposed notions, like when he wears ultra-preppy clothing, he one-ups their assumed originators. Photo Credit: Barry Brecheisen/WireImage Other times, he plays into them as one of hip hop’s significant titans nonetheless. But he isn’t bound to either: in music or fashion. His references can be so rich they go over your head, such as his wearing a white wig in Outkast’s “Prototype” video, referencing P-Funk, a doo-wop band out of New Jersey. (A white wig he wore during one of his international concerts in 2014 is on view at the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s Musical Crossroads Gallery.) Lessons aplenty can be learned from the explorer, the inventor, the experimenter, and the man that is André 3000—among them that a childlike enthusiasm for clothing can prevent one’s style from going stale, that our wardrobes can effectively be toy boxes. His strange swagger shows how the hodgepodge of influences that often make a terrific outfit should be honest. And that the most genuinely iconic dressers in American history stayed curious. Who else has done that while keeping as suave as the best-dressed men in our families? Source link

[oliviajoyice21]

Getty Images It’s endearing to witness someone’s style evolve as they age. It’s why many fashion lovers believe the youth-obsessed, youth-dependent fashion world should platform mature talent more often. Because as you age, your taste is increasingly defined. You wear clothes differently, with credibility, given you’ve had them forever, and every imperfection bespeaks your body’s contours. Your dress, one hopes, not only gains sophistication but stays ever-traceable to its roots. Of all that makes André 3000 special, that’s what I’ve found particularly remarkable lately since not all rappers carry the aesthetic that was once their signature well into adulthood. Where Busta Rhymes was once the unflinchingly offbeat dresser misunderstood by many, he now favors the conventional codes of hip-hop showiness. Some other artists of his era, too, have become faltering logomaniacs. And Snoop Dogg, whose Rastafarian-inspired locs mark the most, if only notable shift in his appearance, can hardly be seen in more than a bomber jacket, a matching set, requisite jewelry, and the occasional bucket hat. Photo Credit: M. Caulfield/WireImage for VH-1 Channel Right now it appears that there is a fashionable decline of the generals. But even a veteran fashion reporter immersed in the world of clothes has confessed to me that hers are much, much less a priority now than when she was working in the industry. Fashion as you age can indeed become the least important component of life. Not so for André! He remains a trailblazer in matters of the cloth, which throughout his career has covered his flawlessly pressed and permed hair in the form of a church lady-inspired headwrap, dandified his many silhouettes through suiting, been seer suckered for overalls worn with diva-like sunglasses and a ribbed beanie.  His GQ Men of The Year photoshoot in that outfit is what many of us associate with what we’ve referred to as the artist’s “flute era.” His 2023 debut solo and now Grammy-nominated instrumental album New Blue Sun would make apparent his artistic expansion as a flutist, symbolizing his prevailing stylistic prowess despite puzzlements over his sonic shift. But that is the stuff that has made André 3000 the nonpareil figure we’ve come to adore. Patrick Johnson, a scholar and Sonoma State professor of American multicultural studies, sees the rapper’s style choices as metaphors that help narrate a bigger composition. “It’s the glasses; it’s the little notes he’s hitting in his fashion that says, ‘Okay, I’m thinking about these things differently, I’m flipping it,’” Johnson shared. But the reason he’s so relatable, so fly to us, is put plainly by Johnson. “André never feels outside of what other brothers are doing.” He isn’t entirely separate from or, say, weirdly above his peers who were “wearing jerseys and pink, furry Kangos. He was very much in relationship with what other Black men were doing,” Johnson continued. Photo Credit: SGranitz/WireImage André 3000 has influenced rap eccentrics his junior whose idiosyncratic sensibility is seen in their sound and clothes: California’s Tyler, the Creator, Cavalier from Brooklyn, and EarthGang, the Atlanta group for which Spelman’s curator in residence Karen Lowe brings OutKast to mind. Knowing André is knowing he comprised half of the classic rap duo OutKast, and the mention of their infamous video, “Hey Ya!,” will summon the image of him clad in a St. Patty’s green button-up, wide, white suspenders affixed to tartan trousers, and a green and black peppermint ascot, vigorously singing and bobbing his head with a shoulder-length bob. Those are the accouterments of an outstandingly dressed Black man, a dandy, to be sure, but that gives way to André centering himself in the video–self-replicating and standing in as seemingly minor characters. And in effect displaying his creative range. He’s a Black man who isn’t afraid to play with ideas, a quality Johnson describes as instructive. “Think about the Benjamin Bixby stuff. At some point, “André embraced prep and Americana through a distinctly Southern perspective,” he explains. Here Johnson also mentions Benjamin Bixby, the now-defunct clothing line by the artist that centered around Black dandyism. Photo Credit: Julia Beverly/Getty Images Lowe agrees. Three years ago, she spearheaded an open-air digital exhibition titled “The South Got Something to Say,” taken from the rapper’s 1995 Source Awards speech, where he called out the ceremony and its dismissal of the South’s contributions to the genre when we were shaping it in real-time. But the region, however influential and formative, hasn’t always been so free for Black men with expressive style. The curator mentions that the same can be said about Black culture at large. André 3000’s narrative is emancipatory; he represents a rare liberty. As a Black Southern man, he personifies a freedom that permits individuality without always being misunderstood. Lowe, who, like André 3000, is an Atlanta native, speaks to his free nature in “how he moves” and “not being defined by stereotypes and expectations.” To her, he appears to be mentally free. At times, he outright defies culturally imposed notions, like when he wears ultra-preppy clothing, he one-ups their assumed originators. Photo Credit: Barry Brecheisen/WireImage Other times, he plays into them as one of hip hop’s significant titans nonetheless. But he isn’t bound to either: in music or fashion. His references can be so rich they go over your head, such as his wearing a white wig in Outkast’s “Prototype” video, referencing P-Funk, a doo-wop band out of New Jersey. (A white wig he wore during one of his international concerts in 2014 is on view at the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s Musical Crossroads Gallery.) Lessons aplenty can be learned from the explorer, the inventor, the experimenter, and the man that is André 3000—among them that a childlike enthusiasm for clothing can prevent one’s style from going stale, that our wardrobes can effectively be toy boxes. His strange swagger shows how the hodgepodge of influences that often make a terrific outfit should be honest. And that the most genuinely iconic dressers in American history stayed curious. Who else has done that while keeping as suave as the best-dressed men in our families? Source link

[infostylerave]

The Best Six Looks On RHOLagos Episode 1

From Chioma Ikokwu’s logomaniac outfit to Toyin Lawani’s eccentric style, these are our picks for the best looks on RHOLagos episode 1

[lifefcrged]

@rubiesintherough sent a headcanon meme.

what is your muse’s favorite hobby?

logophile

A logophile is a lover of words. Also called a word lover or philologos. A related term is logomaniac, defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as "a person who is obsessively interested in words."

Formal education was not something that was generally afforded to girls during Mikkah's childhood; however, with her father being an incredibly educated man and her mother's love for poetry and books, combined with the fact that Mikhail did not often have the energy to do his studies without help, Mikkah was taught how to read and write at an early age along with her brother. While she and Mikhail were both incredibly intelligent and picked up most of the subjects that they were tutored in, Mikkah always had a special love for reading. Not just reading, though she would go through any books she could get her hands on with avarice, but the words themselves. Her father took to collecting dictionaries of all language and books in paired languages (Russian and English, Russian and Greek, etc.), encyclopedias, and so on.

Mikkah has learned many languages in the last hundred and fifty (or so) years and has read many, many dictionaries and many, many encyclopedias and translation guides and it all boils down to a fascination with words. With languages. With root languages and dialects and idioms and metaphors and colloquialisms. How phrases came to be popular, how the common use and meanings of words have shifted over the millennium, following the introductions and metamorphosis of languages as other cultures and languages are introduced.

(In short: she's a big nerd.)

EDITING to add on: she also loves stories based in myth, fables, fairy tales etc. that reflect the different verbage and beliefs and cultures and how those stories transition over the ages as well.

[moribundmurdoch]

Lexicomane - a dictionary lover or someone who loves looking up words in dictionaries #lexicomane [See: Lexicomane]

[logolatry]

Gestaltzerfall (German for "shape decomposition" or Gestalt decomposition[1]) is a type of visual agnosia and is a psychological phenomenon where delays in recognition are observed when a complex shape is stared at for a while as the shape seems to decompose into its constituting parts. [See: Gestalt Decomposition] 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semantic_satiation https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gestaltzerfall

[krasiferrer]

[wearyourdictionary]

Beatlemania - Intense fanatical enthusiasm for the The Beatles. #Beatlemania [See: Beatlemania]

[engconvoofflicial]

Must Read | Logomaniac | Celesta 2019 | IIT Patna Engconvo took part in IIT Patna's fest, Celesta that was held on 9th of November 2019. The name of event was 'Logomaniac'. Many students from different colleges participated in the event. It was Interview round and I was quite surprised to see the results. Only 7-8% of participants could present themselves with confidence. Nowadays it is seen that in around 95% Interviews, 80% of weightage is given to attitude and 20% to your knowledge. It doesn't matter how much knowledge you have got, it's of no use if you can't present it at right moment. Engconvo caters Interview aspirant by training them for their Communication Skills ans Interview skills. Know more about our Job Interview & Placement Training Program at www.engconvo.com #followus @engconvo for tips for Interview in your feed. #iitpatna #celesta #interviewskills #placement #logomaniac #engconvo #learnenglish #communicationskills https://www.instagram.com/p/B8_PeM8gj-L/?igshid=1u2p14vax1ck4

[871c]

LGBT LOGOS

PRIDE MONTH

!!!!!!!!!!

[thousandunspokenthoughts]

Aku melihat matanya di setiap aku memejamkan mata. Aku menggenggam tangannya di setiap aku mencoba menangkap angin. Rasa itu begitu nyata, tapi mungkin memang ini yang biasa orang sebut "rindu"

yessrahm.

[bookvea]

What is a Logomaniac?

What is a Logomaniac?

What is Selenophile?

What does Logorrhea mean in English?

Where does the word logophile come from?

What is a Selenophile person?

What is the Tagalog of Selenophile?