Some of the fashion ad campaigns are, as far as we are concerned, true works of art whose goal is, apart from sending a strong message to customers and making them buy, taking us somewhere else (sometimes not very far, for instance in Paris with the latest Chanel ad campaign or in some weird places such as the Alexander Wang Disco Bus) and letting our minds wander and get lost. We love so much when we are given this opportunity to use our limitless imagination. No need to go to the Louvre, to the Tate Modern in London or to the NYC MoMA (even though going there will always be an incredible experience & a genuine pleasure), we just have to open LOVE Magazine, Vogue or any other Fashion bibles and let's go, we are unstoppable!

Here is a short story we have imagined around some of the most iconic SS15 Fashion Ad Campaigns:

"My name is Margo but everybody calls me Mar' starting with my parents who have never called me by my real name as if they didn't like the name they had given me. The problem is that my name isn't the only thing they do not like about me, they hate my whole self actually. They often say that I am just like a weird and cumbersome packet, something with which they don't know how to deal. At an early age, they sent me to Switzerland, in a boarding school for perfect little girls and to feel at ease with this cruel abandonment and be able to look at themselves in a mirror, they inundated me with presents. Dolls at first then when my teenage years came, with clothes, tons of clothes, tons of Miu Miu clothes. Every season, I received the whole Miu Miu wardrobe. I was, for sure, the most beautiful girl of the school. The most stylish. The coolest. But what was the point if nobody admired me? Everybody hated me. I was completely, totally, immeasurably and desperately alone. 

Mia Goth by Steven Meisel for MIU MIU SS15
So, one day, I decided it was time for me to see what was going on out of school. I often heard girls talking about some big houses full of dangerous guys who loved to dance, drink and smoke. I had to go there to see what true life was all about. I escaped, sold all my too perfect and too nice clothes in a vintage shop, bought me some dirtier and bad ass pieces, I was ready and with my snakeskin jacket & my big glitter platform shoes, I felt the most confident girl in the world. Nobody could equal me. At the party, all the girls were dressed like me. All in Saint Laurent or in some 70s outfits they had borrowed from their mothers. I felt like a tiny prawn in an immense ocean. Yet, he came to me, smiled at me then kissed me. My very first kiss and so far, the longest I have ever been given. Once again, I felt unique, the Queen of the night even if all the girls had a skinny and scrawny boyfriend hanging to their lips. The music went louder and louder. I had glitter in my eyes. This party lasted three years.

Kiki Willems by Hedi Slimane for Saint Laurent SS15

My clothes did not fit any longer. Everything was too big. A party diet has never been the best way to look healthy and fresh. I had spent all my money in alcohol and drugs. I felt at the end of my life. I loved myself way too much to stay there, in that big big bourgeoise mansion filled with draughts. Even if Jimmy James loved me and needed me and I loved & needed him, I had to leave, to find a more peaceful place. A place where silence would be the only noise. I searched on Google entering such keywords as SILENCE / RETREAT / COMMUNITY and found the MJ Sisterhood. It sounded perfect. The only rule was "Leave Your Life Behind and Adopt the Bowl Cut". I had no life to leave behind (except Jimmy James) and wanted to dye my hair darker (I could no longer stand my blond naive hair); it was exactly what I was looking for. After a two-week journey through the Alps, I arrived in a small town in the South of France. Each and every member of the community greeted me in the best of ways, they gave me dark and oversized garments with "big bubbles" embellishing them (they told me it was inspired by the alien's pustules our guru MJ had met years ago). I felt incredibly good in these clothes and they were perfect for the hard soil work we had to do each day under the sweltering sun. For the first time in my life, I felt understood, accepted and loved. It was a wonderful feeling. I could not stand it.

Anna Ewers by David Sims for Marc Jacobs SS15
One night, while everyone was asleep or chanting some impenetrable mantras, I left. Without a note, without a sound, without a look behind. I did not know where to go but I was in the South of France so I knew there was a land of opportunities there, in front of me. I could go to Cannes or Nice or Saint Tropez, this mythical place where old botoxed stars go to find some peace of mind, in the middle of lobotomized tourists who dribble when they see a yacht or a Ferrari. An absolute dream. To tell you the truth, I missed parties. I missed the loud and repetitive music. I missed the party-harders and their bad attitudes. I arrived in Cannes during the Film Festival, the perfect moment if you want to party. As I was walking on La Croisette, I came across a bus parked in front of the Mediterranean Sea. A huge noise came from it, making the surroundings tremble. Neon lights blinded me. I knew the next chapter of my life would take place here. As I came into the bus to meet the beautiful girls who were dancing fiercely, I was afraid of being rejected. I could not be rejected, they were my only chance to be happy again (Had I already been happy once?). They looked at me with a nasty smile as I was telling them I wanted to be part of their gang. The leader burst out laughing then said "Wanna join us? Ok. Try this dress then we'll see". The exam was a dress. A very tight, neon blue dress size 000. "If it fits, you're in!"

Anna Ewers, Binx Walton & Lexi Boling by Steven Klein for Alexander Wang SS15
Our bus went where the parties were. In Milan during the Fashion Week. In Ibiza then in Barcelona. One day in Biarritz, the next day in London or Paris. We had to be where the good vibes were even if we never went out of it. We were the Army as people called us. The girls who never stopped dancing. Unfortunately, our bus broke down one day in Manchester and from that moment on, everything collapsed. The atmosphere became electric. We spent our days eating burgers, playing video games and fighting & yelling. We did not party anymore. Our dance steps turned into punches or kicks. The party was over. 

The Balmain Army by Mario Sorrenti for Balmain SS15

It's been a year since my arrival in the Cristobal Convent. After the tragic events (don't ask me, I won't tell) that took place in the Army Bus, I had to leave this poisonous environment to focus on myself and forget about all the excesses I experienced for almost ten years. The party killed me, I'm dead inside. Now, my mind is split into three and I have a constant dialogue with the two other Me trying to analyze what has gone wrong in my life. I only wear pastel colours now. They are soft. I need softness. Oh, sorry, I have to leave you, my parents are waiting outside my cell. They want to give me a present. I hope it's silence, I painfully need silence."

Sasha Pivovarova by Steven Klein for Balenciaga SS15

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