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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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