about

my name is elodie. i work a regular day job but have a secret obsession for beautiful things. 

dollskin surreal started inside my bedroom. it held an ivory mannequin wearing my first lolita coord: Fantastic Balloon by Angelic Pretty with a blonde wig. it was a room that smelled like Diptyque's Eau Rose and faint cigarette smoke after sleepless mornings in San Francisco fog. leather boots in the corner of the wardrobe, dirtied from delirious nights at at Cel Genesis shows and experimental basement raves. vintage corsets splayed across the floor, a jumble of costume jewelry and pearls on the oak vanity, with me gluing thrifted lace onto a stolen midi skirt i had haphazardly cut into a miniskirt before a show in the forest.

late nights wearing white lace on black hems, then sweated in until the clothing itself held its own memory. or visiting antique shops at Niles, wearing lolita while admiring porcelain dolls behind glass. seeing Gunne Sax dresses and Victorian boots too tiny for me to fit in while old ladies gushed over me. dollskin surreal was cultivated from various experiences like this. 

i grew up lonely and neurodivergent, with a deep reverence for fashion. it was, and still is, my favorite way to express my immense inner world. i spend most of my time lost in daydreams and obsessions. the real world bores the shit out of me and betrays me in a myriad of ways.  but fashion is one of those realms i never get tired of losing myself in, over and over again. wearing something pretty feels like i have entered into something greater than myself. styling and experimenting enables me to explore the different facets of my identity that were previously repressed or kept hidden in daily life. the shadows. a a villainess. a doll. a heroine. a dame. i can play pretend and wear many masks while simultaneous, exploring my unconscious through the feel of lace, bell sleeve dresses, and red lipstick with black heels.

do you understand?

i have been an avid thrifter for most of my life, growing up next to a thrift store and spending the meager amounts i had as a teen on forgotten things that were charming and once beloved. just like my late father, a raging lunatic of an ebay seller, i started selling secondhand clothing on and off since 2014. i went on a hiatus due to work and school for a long while. during that time, i had amassed such an absurd collection of beautiful garments from all over the world that i couldn’t wear it all as much as i had wished. now, i’ve decided my collection deserves a room of its own online, where it can sit untouched from algorithms and oversaturated hashtags.

i have lived inside clothing, i have ruined clothing, i have loved clothing, and now i’m letting some of my beloved pieces go.

with love, 

elodie v.