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8A — Monday, April 20, 2015
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Seeking a
stylish sense
of yourself
Infatuation with the
inimitable icons of
fashion
By CAROLINE FILIPS
Daily Arts Writer
When people ask me why I like
fashion, or why I intend to work
in the industry, I never have an
immediate,
straight
answer.
At the initial utterance of the
question, my mind is instantly
flooded with images of iconic
Vogue spreads, sketches, fabrics
and troops of models trotting
down the runway. I often retort
with my usual sartorial spiel —
how fashion is pertinent to all of
our lives, a reflection of the past
and an indicator of the future …
paired with other eye roll-wor-
thy answers that the inquirer
undoubtedly tunes out.
Sometimes I even share a
favorite
childhood
anecdote:
the time my fifth grade teacher
complimented the way my baby-
doll Hollister blouse matched
my blue braces, swearing I was
destined for a career in fash-
ion design. Though my tween-
age concept of “fashion” (RIP
Limited Too) evokes pain and
shame, it was when I truly
understood what fashion was
all about — how style choices
could be an extension of your
character. Beyond that, fashion
says what we can’t; it’s a voice
we don’t have on our own. Yeah,
there’s some heavy stuff beyond
the cloth.
Yet when I mull it over,
reflecting on the countless
documentaries
of
doyens
I’ve watched, chic PR-girls
I’ve
internet-stalked
and
industry editorials I’ve re-read
endlessly,
I’m
reminded
of
the fashion world’s inimitable
icons who keep me so bizarrely
infatuated.
Though all unique in their
signature
idiosyncrasies
(i.e.
Tom Ford bathing thrice daily,
Valentino Garavani’s place-set-
ting fetish, Largerfeld’s … well,
everything) the industry’s key
contributors are all bound by
one distinctive characteristic:
they’re all so unapologetically
themselves, and that individual
eccentricity is translated into
their work. True fashion icons
don’t subscribe to any notion of
normal. Like any arts-related
endeavor, success in the indus-
try is equal parts raw talent
and being atypical in whichever
facet you pursue. It’s a sphere
for weirdos to thrive and the
most quirky to flourish. Nor-
malcy doesn’t exist in fashion;
it’s about the misfits. Fashion
applauds the individual and
gives a resting bitch face to the
conventional.
Ranging
from
the
game-
changing theatrics of wonder-
fully outrageous shows (see:
McQueen’s Dante, Fall 1996),
to Linda Fargo’s trademark
platinum bob — figureheads
know it’s all about their schtick.
Famous for her strictly hyper-
bolic candor along with her suc-
cinct and sassy memos, there’s
no one who emulated fashion’s
uncanny uniqueness better than
Diana Vreeland.
Vreeland once said, “You
gotta have style. It helps you get
down the stairs. It helps you to
get up in the morning. It’s a way
of life.”
Though I regrettably wasn’t
alive at the height of her editor-
in-chief
reign
at
American
Vogue in the early ’60s-’70s, it’s
clear she lived out her mantra,
embodying
everything
style
was, is and will continue to be.
In any and all clips of Vreeland,
particularly
throughout
her
documentary, “Diana Vreeland:
The Eye Has to Travel,” she’s
brash,
outspoken
and
100
percent herself. Her brand of
style consisted of accentuating
her anomalous features and
larger-than-life
personality.
She didn’t care what anyone
thought of her, she trusted her
instincts and her irrefutable
eye for style and ran with it.
And if that leads you to Vogue
by way of Harper’s Bazaar,
you’re doing something right.
Vreeland
emphasized
her
own imperfections and those of
others (she literally discovered
Twiggy — THE TWIGGY — at
the peak of youthquake). She
knew perfection was bogus
and uninteresting, she foresaw
fashion’s globalization; in life
and death, Vreeland is all that
fashion was and ever will be
— genuinely absurd, somewhat
misunderstood and perpetually
one step ahead.
And
that’s
why
I’m
enthralled with the sartorial
sphere. Though I fawn over
the sheer art of couture and
commend
the
unparalleled
creativity of les artistes, that’s
not the ultimate answer to
“why, fashion?” It’s the allure
of the edgy factors possessed
by all the greats — from Anna
Wintour’s
polarizing
snark
to Diane Von Furstenberg’s
effortless elegance; that nth
degree that is so fantastically
fashion. That’s why.
COURTESY OF DIANA VREELAND
At least she has a good personality.
Fashion’s top
tier doesn’t
compromise or
apologize.
There’s some
heavy stuff
beyond the
cloth.
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