Raised by my own reverie

“Felt like responding to Noor publicly might be a good way for you guys to get to know a little more about me.”

I grew up listening to Russian classical composers like Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky. I always resonated with, and almost craved, the feeling of sadness their music evoked. To me, it revealed something new ,something far from my daily life—almost transporting me into another world. I loved that.

My peers saw me as an oddball, but I didn’t care. I even pitied them a little—for letting the music of the time slip through their bleeding ears. In Quebec, where I’m from, Marie-Mai and Mixmania were peaking. From the iPods of their older siblings, they inherited a certain sound—one that shaped their tastes too early, and too lazily, creating this kind of ignorance toward individuality and identity at such a young age.

I felt it from a young age. I instinctively knew what was good and what wasn’t—whether it was music or art. It just came naturally to me, because that’s all I consumed. I lived for it.

I started curating a life on Pinterest, eventually pinning over 20,000 images. Each one a glimpse into the world I wanted to live in. It helped me bring that imagined reality a little closer to my everyday life.

I forgot to mention ,I’ve been drawing since I was three. I never stopped. One day, I saw a documentary on TV5 about Karl Lagerfeld. I think it was the one where he draws his life on paper. I fell in love with his charisma. That moment pulled me deeper into fashion. I started looking at Alexander McQueen’s shows without fully understanding them, only absorbing what Pinterest served me. I began sketching what I imagined, thoughts and feelings that didn’t yet have form. I’d love to show you some of them. Just took a 3-hour break and found drawings I made when I was five. One day, I’ll share those with you.

Strangely, I grew into this current version of myself , Isaac ,who now only seeks real things. Raw, pure emotions. I’ve always been surrounded by amazing friends and family maybe , but I’ve never fully committed to those relationships. There’s always been a part of me that knew I was different. I kept a space reserved for myself ,a quiet awareness that I didn’t fully belong. I was alienating myself, but it was my truth.

In high school, I performed. I tried to blend in, just to keep the peace. I’ve always overthought and overanalyzed everything around me ,but that’s also what helped me develop my taste. I spent so much time curating my inner world that now, when it comes time to create, or buy clothes, or explore new music—I know exactly where to look. I know where and how to find what speaks to me.

There was a phase where I was obsessed with Casey Neistat.I’d spend hours browsing the J.Crew website, adding things to carts I could never afford, daydreaming about how I’d check them out someday. Online window shopping became a ritual, a dream-feeding habit only growing wilder stems of desire.

Today, I still love things that remind me of that time ,when I was young, innocent, and craving something real. That craving built who I am today. That same longing created Dimondcut—a space where I get to share my truth with the world.

I live by simple morals. My rationality is key. I don’t allow bullshit to enter my mind. If it feels wrong, I cut it off. It's just noise. Distractions. And when you think about the people we admire—they’re not perfect either. Look at Karl ,his opinions might not always be “woke.” Or Galliano’s words, at times, were awful. But they are who they are. It takes a little bad to make something truly good. I stand by that.

It’s okay to be moody sometimes. To not always perform for the world's standards.

I live simply, always trying to outdo myself ,not because I want to be better than others, but because I want to grow into someone I can be proud of. I want to look back with no regrets, knowing I gave it my all.

I try to be the healthiest, sharpest, most stylish version of myself. I aim to design and. create only for the best , to express myself beyond the material—into the core of who I am.

Do I have a clear purpose? Not exactly. I don’t know what tomorrow holds. But I do know this: I want to live the Dimondcut life.