Personal Style: Vanessa Friedman's advice

Vanessa Friedman's short article, in which she answers a question from 29-year-old Calandra about how to begin to develop a personal style. ("How Do I Find My Personal Style?" New York Times, October 22, 2022.)

Tips include: notice what you already wear that makes you feel good, then build from there; choose three words that describe what you want to communicate visually; look for exemplars.

She notes that our style often changes as we change; she reminisces about the late '80s, when she wore granny ankle boots, boho black dresses, and oversized cardigans. (Though she has abandoned that look, now called Intentional Auntie, it is currently embraced by women such as sculptor Simone Leigh.)

Friedman writes, "We are all an endless work in progress. Reassessing who you are and how you look does not reflect a failure of imagination. It's what makes life interesting." 

I appreciated Friedman's emphasis on imagination and initiative—then I thought, she has glossed over a preliminary choice: How distinctive do you want to look? Do you want to stand out or recede? For most women, the answer is "Not much", or "Only for some occasions". But for others, it's a flashing, neon-lit Yes. 

The lone photo that accompanies the article is of Grace Jones, one of the most striking performers of our time. (Jones owes the genesis of her image to designer, director and impresario Jean-Paul Goude.) I thought, Whoa, Vanessa, that is a daunting standard. I think what Calandra hopes for is not an original style, but rather, a coherent image that's a confident reflection of herself.

Which brings me to this woman, who I saw at the market, wearing a vibrant, long velvet coat over a maxi-dress with lace cuffs... at 9 a.m. on a Thursday! When I asked if she would pose for a photo, her companion said, "She gets asked all the time!"

Moments later, I snapped another woman, walking with her family:

 I see versions of her outfit most days. Other than the position of the crossbody, I liked it too—the cropped jeans and white shirt, camel topper, classic gold hoop earrings and sunglasses. It's calm but considered.

Then, walking home,  I saw another mother crossing the street with her child and thought, Ah, that's it! You see it too, don't you? The aqua tights. So that's another corollary I'd offer Calandra: it's the little details that move clothes from the generic to the personal. Sure, someone else can wear aqua tights with running shoes and a skirt, but it's not ubiquitous. 

After reading Friedman, I wondered, Is the development of "personal style" a worthwhile pursuit?  One of the areas of museums I most enjoy is that of costume and jewellery, no matter the period. We've been 'speaking' through our personal style for millennia; history provides support for the endeavour.

In Montréal, style abounds, often outside of fashion.  A few years ago a local comic, riffing on the idea of a national costume, proposed "Québec pants" in smartly-fitted corduroy, because "here, we like to look good."

I recalled reading a comment online years ago; the writer said she was sick of being enjoined to "look her best", was not at all interested in paying attention to her clothes, and did not care about enhancing someone else's aesthetic experience. She said something like, "I am not here to please you, and I don't care what you think." I wished her good luck with her refusal, because whether peacocks or partridges, we all show our plumage.