Women in Clothes

by Sheila Heti

  What’s your process getting dressed in the morning?

  I do not get dressed until I am going out. Since I work at home, this can mean the afternoon. I will wear a slip until then. However, when I am getting dressed, because of global warming, the first thing I do is check a weather site that charts the weather hour by hour. If I am going to an important appointment, I will have already thought through what I will wear. In the film Shame, a character tells her date that she spent an entire hour deciding what to wear. When I brought up this scene with the director of the film, Steve McQueen, he explained it was to show how much effort she had put into the evening. He looked a bit shocked when I told him that I would never have waited until an hour before dressing for an important date to decide what to wear; I would have started working this out as soon as the date was set—and enjoyed every minute of mulling it over. If I am not going anywhere special, then I probably am in a groove with one set of looks or another. I go in phases.

  What are some dressing rules you follow?

  For me, the most important dressing rule is to think in entire outfits—dress, belt, stockings, shoes, jewelry, coat, scarf, gloves, bag. Once I have the outfit down, I don’t have to worry about it. It’s a bit of a luxury, but then again, it isn’t, because if you don’t have the right top for the skirt, you will never wear the skirt. Malcolm taught me to do this. He said he didn’t understand why girls never thought in outfits but in separates. However, when I first met him, I was just a student and didn’t have the means to buy many pieces at once. I tend to stick to one designer or another. (This is probably also due to Malcolm, who felt that a designer has a vision and you shouldn’t tamper with it. The designer, as artist, would have conceived the various elements of the collection to marry together.) At the end of the nineties, until she stopped her brand, I wore Martine Sitbon head to toe. After a few wandering years mixing it up with Margiela, Marni, Lanvin, and Dries, I settled on Nicolas Ghesquière and Balenciaga. There is something about Ghesquière’s aesthetic and cut that suits me like no other designer. It can be a crazy rock-’n’-roll showpiece or a severe Edition suit or simply a T-shirt, but for me, it’s just magic. Since he’s left Balenciaga, everyone has been asking me what I will wear.

  Do you think you have taste or style? What do these words mean to you?

  I think I have good taste and style. Taste can be about a specific thing. Style is about more than one element—it is more of a painted canvas, an environment, or perhaps simply a feeling. It takes more creativity to have style. I believe there is such a thing as good taste and bad taste, good style and bad style. There are many kinds of good taste and good style, but there is definitely a demarcation on what is good and bad. Then, of course, there is no style and no taste.

  Are you photogenic?

  I am not, and I am relieved when others agree! I think I am terrible at posing, though maybe I am not as bad as I think, because I have posed a number of times for photographers, including a topless picture and a nude series, which have both been published. (But you can’t see my face!) I am about to pose for a series of portraits wearing Louis Vuitton S/S 2013 for Alessandro Raho, a British painter. Personally, my favorite pictures of myself tend to be candid shots.

  What are some things you admire about how other women present themselves?

  Poise, carriage, manner of speaking, true style—not one based on status symbols and manners.

  Are there any figures from culture, past or present, whose style you admire or have drawn from?

  Aside from Malcolm, I imagine my list is the same as most people’s—Hitchcock movies from the sixties, Audrey Hepburn, Coco Chanel, Faye Dunaway in The Thomas Crown Affair. I think the woman with the best style today is Kate Moss. She gets it right every time, and it’s not just because she’s Kate Moss that she looks great. She really has amazing inherent style.

  How do you shop for clothes?

  There are a few shops I like and I visit them regularly. The best city to shop for fashion is Paris, without a doubt. In Paris, it takes days to cover all the shops—hosiery shops, lingerie shops, glove shops, dress shops, shoe shops, bag shops, jewelry shops, antique shops, many of the original couture houses and flagship stores. In New York or in London, you can cover them all in an afternoon. I don’t shop with the mission to find something. I shop to see what’s going on. Like everyone, whenever I actually need something urgently, I can never find it, but in terms of fashion, you have a better chance in Paris than anywhere else. Many women complain they can’t find anything they want; my problem is, I can always find something I want. I think you have to constantly look to find good things. Different shops stock different things, and they come out at different times. Unless you’re looking, you’ll miss the right—or best—things. So maybe I never stop shopping.

  Do you have any shopping rules?

  Try not to make mistakes. Think it over. Better to get a few great pieces of quality you will wear for a long time rather than a lot of random, poorly made ones that you might never wear or that will fall apart.

  What is your favorite piece of clothing or jewelry?

  My most precious piece is probably a tiny antique pearl necklace—most likely a child’s—from Hancocks in Burlington Arcade in London. It was a gift from Malcolm, who loved the idea that it was so tiny he felt only I could wear it. Also, because I am from Long Island, Malcolm associated me with Oyster Bay and oysters and hence pearls. In regard to my favorite piece of clothing, it’s difficult to say, but perhaps it is my black waxed-cotton trench coat from Lanvin. It is a raincoat that actually is not only pretty but waterproof and light and that breathes, unlike vinyl. The British, in particular, seem to like it, maybe because the mackintosh is such an inherent part of British culture.

  What’s the first “investment item” you bought?

  I hate the term “investment item.” This is a modern term that strips fashion of its romance and artistry and makes it cold and corporate. Fashion should be bought because one loves it and looks wonderful in it, not because it is an “investment.” I have never thought of fashion, or anything else in this way. I find it cynical and depressing.

  Do you care about lingerie?

  Yes, though it is a luxury. It is easier to indulge in it in France, as there is quite pretty and decent-quality lingerie at all price points. I prefer natural fiber to synthetics, and I really care about quality and French manufacturing. Most of my lingerie is silk or cotton from a sweet little boutique in Paris called Fifi Chachnil. Naturally, I wash it by hand. I hate wearing bras, so I don’t go as far as the French, who insist on matching bras and panties—though I have a few sets. But then again, the French are known for going braless, too!

  How does how you dress play into your ambitions for yourself?

  Clothes have always been very important to me. Since I was a small child, I was aware of clothes and had very strong feelings about them. My mother and father both have excellent taste and care about clothes, too. Though we didn’t indulge in any nonessentials, my parents would buy clothes—especially for us children. People often think fashion is frivolous, but it isn’t—at least for some of us. Clothes give you confidence and power to do things you might not be able to do otherwise. It puts you into a role. This even applies to uniforms in war. (Malcolm told me the head of a uniform factory in Poland explained that the Nazis understood fashion and designed great uniforms—which this factory had produced. When the Stalinists took over, they were smart enough to simply change the color. This man said that if Mao had had better uniforms, he would have been more successful.) People perceive you differently and treat you differently. How I dress has literally changed my life. At the same time, I dress for myself, not others.

  What is your cultural background, and how has that influenced how you dress?

  I am what is called a 1.5-generation Korean immigrant. Because of this, I was brought up with a certain formality, which includes emphasis on presentation and the idea that how you look communicates respe
ct (or lack thereof) toward others. It is more close to European culture than American culture, in which, as far as I am concerned, anything goes and comfort is overrated! I was raised to wash things properly (for example, hand-wash, air-dry), and to mend and iron. My roommates were bemused when I arrived at Yale with an iron, an ironing board, a drying rack, a soaking bucket, and a sewing kit.

  Can you say a bit about how your mother’s body and style have been passed down to you, or not?

  Why do you think only a mother’s style and body can be passed on to a woman? My mother was a great beauty and has good style. She is right in thinking I look better in more formal and structured clothes than casual clothes, though she chose to buy me my first pair of stretch jeans in bubble-gum pink and a graffiti-print shirt when I was thirteen. However, in terms of body, I am exactly like my father. We have the same slight bone structure and we even have the same beauty mark on our lower left eyelid. People always think we are identical, though I don’t see it. As in the Korean saying my mother uses, “You can’t deceive the seed!” My father also has a great eye and taste.

  Can you recall times when you have dressed a particular way to calm yourself or gain a sense of control over a situation?

  Clothes are my greatest material pleasure. Nothing makes me as happy as a beautiful new dress. When people have suggested I see a therapist for my grief, I have answered (quite truthfully) that I prefer to spend the money on clothes. They give me great pleasure, serve a purpose, and help me with my work. (I often say I have clothes instead of assistants!) Once, when I was in high school, I received an unfair grade on my report card. I went psychosomatically blind. My mother picked me up, calmed me, took me clothes shopping, and I recovered.

  How does makeup fit into this?

  I don’t wear much makeup. I’m not very good with it. A bit of eyeliner and mascara. Sometimes lipstick or gloss, sometimes foundation and powder. However, I do love costume parties and enjoy going all the way on such occasions, including the makeup.

  What’s with your hair?

  You would think someone who is artistic and good with her hands would be good at dealing with hair. I am terrible at styling hair and I am relieved that I have figured out a simple twisted chignon, which I don’t intend to change. Once Malcolm threatened to cut my hair while I slept. He said he’d done that to Vivienne Westwood and gave her her signature look. I told him I would kill him if he dared do such a thing and I would also shave off one of his eyebrows. That was the end of that idea!

  Please describe your figure.

  I am, as Malcolm called me, “a stick insect.” I have relatively long limbs and digits, and a long neck, to which Malcolm attributed my chronic neck and shoulder problems. As for my bow legs, he surmised that my ancestors must have ridden horses through the steppes with Genghis Khan.

  Is there any article of clothing, makeup, or accessory you carry with you every day?

  I always carry a Smythson page-per-day diary in my bag.

  Do you have style in any areas of your life aside from fashion?

  Yes. I have specific ideas about food, design, and behavior, which accorded with Malcolm’s and ran into our work. A friend described our life as a Gesamtkunstwerk, which is probably accurate. Neither of us was materialistic and we chose things from the heart. Quality of life was important to us, as was integrity. We never amassed much beyond a few clothes and books. We made it a point to acquire things of good quality, made mainly in Europe, that would last. (I hate disposables.) There was an inherent pragmatism and simplicity but also a certain romantic and whimsical quality to our life together. Our home in Paris, which was originally the studio of my favorite painter, Kees van Dongen, reflected our overall aesthetic philosophy. I had it photographed just after Malcolm died, to have a record.

  What would be a difficult look for you to try to achieve?

  I look terrible in anything hippie-ish or trashy. For instance, caftans or Cavalli.

  How is this stuff important?

  It’s not important to everyone, and there is nothing wrong in its not being important to someone. But it is important to some of us.

  Where were you born and where do you live now?

  Seoul, Korea. I live between New York and Paris.

  Are you single, married?

  I am single since Malcolm passed away. He is in fact the only relationship I have ever had. I do not have children. I have never cared about them. Perhaps this is why I could give everything to Malcolm and be his best friend. He called me his “buddy with breasts.”

  COLLECTION

  JEMIMA TRUMAN’s spare buttons

  SURVEY

  MODEST AND NAKED

  “My mother wanted me to know that when she was sixteen, any skirt with a hem that extended past the fingertips was considered too long.” —MEGAN HUSTAD

  AUGUSTA LEE I dress more conservatively at church than I do during the week. I feel like it’s a meat market and a fashion show when I go to church. Girls dress up to try and get married.

  EUFEMIA FANTETTI I was just leaving my toddler days behind me, and I’d been woken up from an early-afternoon nap. I looked out between the bars of my crib and saw two children staring at me. My mother announced that my cousins from Montreal had come to visit. I was wearing an undershirt and pajama bottoms, and I remember feeling intensely exposed. I turned away from everyone in embarrassment.

  SASHA ARCHIBALD My parents are ultraconservative Christians and had tons of rules about clothing. I remember I had to change one day because I was wearing leggings with a tight sweater. It was strange because I didn’t think the outfit pushed the boundaries of modesty. I needed them to explain why it was immodest. It was always my mom’s job to convey what I was allowed to wear or not, but my mom and dad would confer on the decision. When I went to high school dances, all three of us had to go shopping together, and of course nothing cute was modest enough.

  E. M. HECTOR My evil twin tells me, “Think of those ladies you see with their ‘stuff’ hanging out. Is that what you want to look like? What would your mother say if she saw you wearing that? Is that what you want everyone to see?”

  ALICIA BERNLOHR My parents worked for the American government and we lived overseas, and we were supposed to represent the United States wherever we went. This meant I could not dye my hair magenta or have a septum ring. I have never completely recovered from my early style censorship, and my tastes at the office are still fairly modest and unassuming, so as not to draw too much attention to myself. Because of this, my rebellions are small but extremely important. For example, I have white tube socks that say, above the ankle, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK. No one knows this but me. I’m in a good mood whenever I wear them.

  DOROTHY DENISOFF I don’t show bra straps and nipples, and you won’t see a G-string when I bend over. I do show cleavage, but no belly shirts that announce my rolls.

  SASHA GREY When I ended my first long-term relationship, I was nervous about dating. Living in L.A. doesn’t help, so I decided to dress in combat boots and leather jackets every time I went out. I like to dress up and be wanted, but at this time I didn’t know what I wanted, so I didn’t want to project myself in that way. I guess I have disdain for young women who dress half naked but scowl when you glance their way.

  LUCY BIRLEY At fifty-five it’s a bit weird if you show a lot of flesh and wear short skirts and things. I don’t think that’s a good look, really. I think it’s quite sad.

  LAUREN REITER I remember going up to the door of my friend’s house when I was five. I was topless, since it was summertime, and their German nanny or relative opened the door and gave me the most withering look, which even then I understood as a condemnation of my nakedness.

  CLAIRE O. I remember my mother telling me that clothes are fine, but she has always preferred the way she looks naked. I liked that.

  GINA SHELTON I am more concerned with modesty than the look of my body. I’m afraid I’ll flash people or appear awkward. How do women walk and move so confiden
tly in miniskirts? What will people think of me in a tiny dress?

  CATHY DE LA CRUZ This past summer, I lived for a month at a retreat center, Esalen, in Big Sur, California. I learned to relax, enjoy myself, and get comfortable with my naked body in public. On Fridays, I would work all day doing something very unglamorous like cleaning cabins, then at four or five p.m., I would go to the heated outdoor swimming pool overlooking the ocean and just strip off my work clothes and jump in completely naked in front of whoever was around. By the end of my time at Esalen, I felt so comfortable in my own skin that when the guy I was dating came to visit me, I had never felt sexier or more attractive. I wasn’t one bit self-conscious about my naked body. It made the sex so much better.

  EMILY COYLE I love seeing bodies and finding out how different and odd and complicated they are. It’s always exciting for me, so I imagine it must also be exciting for the person I’m with. I think, “Your body is so you, and mine is so me!” That always makes me feel okay about anything I might otherwise feel less okay about—my tummy, my stupidly long legs.