STYLE CZAR
Why do models appear to hate their jobs?
To many, the fashion industry is seen as ruthless, fascinating, dangerously influential and puzzling — and sometimes all at the same time. Over the years as a writer on trends in fashion, I have been asked many questions, but the one asked with the most regularity is about the general tone and mood of most fashion communication. Reader Ruth Thornton speaks for many as she writes: “I enjoy reading about fashions, and seeing pictures of models with some of the latest designs. But a question I ask myself is why the models all look either so bored, or appear to hate the job? Are they not allowed to at least show a pleasant face — I don’t mean a big toothy grin, but certainly something better than what they look like now?” It is undeniable that if you have the opportunity to attend a fashion show, or open the glossy pages of a fashion magazine, the models (despite the fact that they are all beautifully dressed and living the best of all possible lives) seem to be almost uniformly in a terrible mood. At a fashion show, the professional models have actually been trained to not only express “attitude” by assuming a sort of sneer and posing their chins and shoulders in a defiant stance, but to literally stomp down the runway as if their heels were hooves and they were a drive of angry mustangs. Posing for billboards with the latest handbag in their laps, or spritzed with the latest fragrance, they might be seductive, edgy or languorous, but never really happy.
I think there are several reasons for this. First, that every era has its collective mood and that fashion, of all the art forms, is perhaps the one most expressive of the zeitgeist. In the way that silhouettes often reflect the preoccupations of an era (ie, the postwar hourglass shapes of Dior’s New Look coincided with women’s return from aiding the war effort to the home front; or the futuristic silhouettes of the ’60s spoke of space travel and technological innovation), the models flogging those fashions too, in the way that they are styled and carry themselves express a larger mood.
A lot of this has to do with cultural aspiration. For instance, if you see fashion magazines or advertisements from the down and dirty ’30s, they were very much about “class” and a glittery Hollywood glamour. Whereas in the “back-tonature” 1970s, Vogue covers featured gap-toothed models like Lauren Hutton with free-flowing Breck-clean tresses against sunny outdoor backgrounds.
Unfortunately, the era we are currently living in is not one where happiness or contentment is seen as chic. Ever since the Thatcherites and the various wolves of Wall Street first began their agenda of cutting back on resources and heading offshore, lean and mean have not only described the global economic marketplace, but the look of both the clothes in the stores and the models who flog them. The rebellious, pierced and ragged fierceness of punk — a fringe lifestyle in the ’80s — is now mainstream fashion, with ripped, bleached and grommeted styles on racks from H&M to Walmart. A bloody viciousness is apparent in our current obsession with exotic skins and furs and hunting lodges draped in horns and antlers. And the models sporting those angry looks are hardly in a much better mood.
Which brings me to another reason why I secretly believe models tend to look so unhappy. In order to fit into those clothes and today’s exacting body ideal, the poor girls are, quite literally, starving. And it’s awfully hard to radiate anything but anger when, like a deprived animal, you are all too ready to chomp on the fine ankle of the girl next to you with the elegantly sharp points of your gleaming pearly-white teeth. Karen von Hahn is a Toronto-based writer, trend observer and style commentator. Contact her at kvh@karenvonhahn.com.