Here at Reveille, we look forward to spending a good part of the day gazing into the endlessly wide lens of the fashion world. We love talking about what we see with you, dear customer, but what about on those rainy weekdays when 23rd Ave is light on shoppers and the store is in tip-top shape? Sometimes we talk about rock and roll, sometimes Marlon Brando. And when we’re not staring in awe at the shop’s newly acquired, exquisite taxidermy bison head looming over the front counter, we are talking and thinking and obsessing about fashion.
We also love us a good fashion blog. Everyone on the team has a favorite, and when we discover one belonging to the realm of Royal Blogdom, we like to sit down and take a minute to write about it. This week we were fortunate to come across The Tragic Sense, a Toronto-based fashion blog composed by stylist and photographer Jessica Celebre. Ultra feminine, poised, and thoughtful best describe Celebre’s approach to The Tragic Sense, born the summer of 2011.
At first glance, I was content just to soak up Celebre’s gift for photography—with snapshots ranging from white-washed rooms to haunted woods to peter pan collars and chocolate banana tarts—I thought I’d never tear my eyes away. Of course, the real viewing pleasure is sourced from the stylist herself. Celebre is the Muse of her own new and vintage wardrobe, and followers should be able to spend ample time appreciating her refined aesthetic and genius slant on dressing herself in an array of absolutely charming attire. If Celebre’s drop-dead-gorgeous looks and impeccable sense of style aren’t enough, fans may enjoy reading her gracious tutorials on the art of thrifting, or follow along with the rich narrative that accompanies each photo series she posts.
At nineteen years old, Celebre is already a powerhouse of artistic vision, eloquent words, and damn good taste. So feast your eyes on The Tragic Sense, and don’t be too surprised if, the next day, you find yourself reading a Dickens novel in the woods while eating pastries from a Victorian plate and reveling at how soft the lace edge of your peter pan collar feels against your neck.
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