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7. What is the most transformative conversation you have ever had on the subject of fashion or style?
I haven't had that conversation yet, but I'm looking forward to it.
I think with my aunt at 16 perhaps, when I was starting to rebel against the convent school uniform style of dressing - not the school uniform, but that we all looked exactly the same. I didn't need skinny jeans and boots in Delhi summers, I wanted - of course, cotton floaty dresses and muslin tunics. I had the luxury of a massive amazing closet and learnt early about custom tailoring and alterations.. With her - discussing what I like, what suits me and why I don't have to dress exactly like my best friends - these principles are still things I live by.
I havent had one yet
With Theresa (good friend) about dressing as a director's assistant
There have been a few. I think just not giving a shit about visible panty lines, wearing whatever colors and patterns you want together is liberating and any restraint on that mixing is stupid, and having an outfit fit a mood "So fall!" "Madeline realness," "Very Lolita," have been some of them.
Realizing that also my boyfriends Style is important to me.
I remember when I was about 13 Mum was adamant that I should wear for school mufti-day the clothes that my Aunty had sent me from Gap in London. I wasn't a huge fan of the clothes - a pair of flared jeans and a retro Adidas tracksuit style jacket that was red and white. Looking back, they were seriously cool clothes, but at the time they were so different to the kinds of clothes that my image-obssessed 13 year old friends were wearing (including me most of the time). I remember Mum and I having this huge argument - me telling her that I would look so stupid and be mocked by all of my mates, and her telling me that I shouldn't dress the same as everyone else and should want to have and be proud of having my own distinct style. I begrudgingly went to school in the clothes I thought were "lame", and while at the time I didn't agree with a word that Mum said to me, that conversation has stuck with me. And so much of it now rings true. I remember thinking Mum was so stupid when I caught a girl looking my outfit up and down as I got on the bus and smirking at me. But now I know Mum was right - I was definitely the best dressed at school that day, people just didn't realise the value of individual style at the tender age of 13!
The realization you only need 30 great items instead of 100 mediocre ones to have a great wardrobe.
With my mother about her take on dressing up... she owned very few clothes but she made sure no matter which one of those she picked up and wore, it always looked immaculate.
I've not had one yet.
I had a lovely talk a few months ago about how a good outfit can make a person happy. Fashion has a great power.
I read Mari Kondo's book about cleaning and now I just don't care about sentimentality that much and then I got rid of 70% of my closet.
I've had to endure many, many conversations/light teasing about why I wear so much black. In fact, recently, I was complaining to my boyfriend that it has to do with not wanting to make a statement -- wearing all black makes me feel like I can absorb into my surroundings. He pointed out that by wearing (mostly) black, I AM making a statement. Few people had pointed it out to me until I met his family in Georgia, where wearing all black is definitely more uncommon than it is in LA or NY.
When I was in college, my twin sister and I watched the French movie Emmanuelle, and the women in that film were anorexic-thin. Afterwards my sister and I both admitted that being thin is very important to us, perhaps the most important part of our appearance in general. I have never forgotten that conversation, and the look of being thin is my look.
After having my son, I've become bustier, and this infuriates me, as having a full bosom doesn't fit my personal aesthetic.
I think it was a series of conversation with my mother. She was ill for a very long time and lost hope, lost the urge to take care of herself and she didn't seem to find joy in dressing nice, she wasn't comfortable in her body anyway, and she felt that somehow she didn't deserve to look nice/pretty/distinctive. I felt differently and gently convinced her to try on dresses, even though her belly was floated, to spend some extra money on thing she felt good in, instead of only buying the cheapest stuff she felt horrible in any way, to try on thing that might look weird/daring/etc on the clothing hook (sorry for my crooked English) but might just look great on her, etc etc. I took years, but now every time I visit she proudly shows me the nice things the bought for herself, and actually take joy in it. She looks nice.
I'm not sure I've had it yet. I rarely have conversations about it, it's more of a solo-pursuit.
In my family we don't talk about clothes, they are meant to cover you, not to be pretty.
Never had one.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a “transformative” conversation about style. I enjoy conversing with friends, family, acquaintances, and co-workers about clothing, but none of these conversations has ever led me to reevaluate my own style.
probably the idea of transgender people dressing how they want to dress.
I talk fashion or style so rarely... so i just don't know if there is any...
Me and my best friend who also studied fashion, are known to talk about fashion and style ALOT. We talk about designers, street style, clothes, shops, our outfits and everything between. But our most intresting topics has been organic/ ecological/ ethical fashion. Why people refuse pay for more than 5€ for a t-shirt? Why people don't understand quality? How come some people don't know real leather from fake? How come people don't know how to take care of clothes? Why for some clothes are disposable? AND the ramifications of all this. AND how can we change the situation.
My course director at university jokingly told me I was already an artist because I dressed so perfectly to fit the persona. I was amused but also secretly gratified because it is a persona that I try to cultivate through my dress sense.