Scumbag Summer x Miami Blue
perfect for each other
the trashy elegance I embody—my carnal desires worn like chic accoutrement
Jillian Luft is the Queen of trashy elegance. We clicked on twitter: I obsessively liked her selfies for months before admitting to her in DM that her wardrobe inspired me to redo my own. Not redo in a hyperconsumption, Shein-haul way: I got rid of all the clothes which made me feel frumpy, less-than, and purchased the clothes I’d always wanted to wear but didn’t feel hot enough to pull off. But you can, in fact, wear platforms and garter belts and stockings with spikes around the thigh at 40. You can do whatever the fuck you want.
That’s kind of what Scumbag Summer and Miami Blue are both about: trashy elegance, carnal desires as accoutrement, doing whatever the fuck you want. Jillian’s narrative is the middle of a tug of war between I should and I want, smack in the middle of Eros and Thanatos, a tussle between trashy and beautiful. Miami Blue is the same: ocean, citrus, ginger, backed with trashy aldehydes and a cocaine accord.
Like, I know the novel is focused on Orlando instead of Miami, but I honestly couldn’t believe how well these two vibe with each other. They ‘both want the same thing—for every damn day to feel like the ocean breeze kissing your face while you hurtle down the open road, no end in sight.’ Trashiness is elegance. I want is sometimes I should. Lust is sometimes self-destructive. Self-destruction is sometimes reaching toward life.
Bisous,
Alice