We’re in the midst of the economic crisis, everyone flees abroad, but the usual favoured destinations su as London, Barcelona or Berlin did not appeal to me.

In Syria I would have felt a bit, jeopardised to say the least; in California they’re far too cool and blonde and in Antartica, despite my love for cold weather and snow, a mosses & lichen based menu wouldn’t have been to my liking. And so I decided to go to out into the cosmos, precisely on Mars, mostly to see if there was anyone in outer space who wore crop tops in winter, white socks with sandals or photographed their legs in the sun, reminiscent of some kind of sausage. I can say with certainty that there in fact is life on Mars, and that aliens out here sometimes dress badly, jumping into their closets as though sprinkled with glue and emerging as the worst fashion bloggers on earth. Clearly I’m the only and sovereign coloniser of this planet , so what I will write will be my personal point of view, to which I’ll apply no filters. Mine will be a regime based solely on irony.

Basically, fashion on Mars is no different than on Earth, but let’s begin.