The Contest Winner

So many great entries!

It was fascinating to read about such a diverse world of inspirations.
I was a little surprised (pleasantly) that so much inspiration came from the home or personal interaction.

I think these entries also said a lot about respect.
Our respect for others, for family and for those that care for themselves.

A lot of grandparents were mentioned and again I think that has a lot to do with love/respect and how love/respect influences our concept of what is beautiful.

For the winner I chose the entery below.
What really got me was this line " My grandfather’s work bench and tools, where he set the diamonds into the ring I wear every day now and taught me to love the hard, precise labour of making things sparkle..."

That line really speaks to me and captures what i love about the craft of fashion, couture and tailoring. For me fashion and style is not about "I'm better than you" or "look what I have " but about the craft of making something beautiful or graceful. I'm a complete sucker for that romantic vision of a artisan in some little dim lit room crafting a pair of shoes or a shirt or ,for that matter, in a darkroom working on the perfect print.

That line could also just as easily reflect what we do to present ourselves in the way we feel most expresses who we are.

"to love the hard, precise labour of making things sparkle..." perfect!




Even though I’m by long habit an observer rather than a joiner, I couldn't resist this question - any more than I can this blog! Here's a selection of some of the many images that have floated up since I’ve been musing on “What has most inspired your personal style?”

My grandmother’s cloche hat and fur-collared coat, which she wears in a photo from the roaring 20s when, appearances to the contrary, she was just a teenage kid from Montreal’s Saint Urbain Street...
Myrna Loy in the Thin Man movies, with her gowns for every hour and her wit for any situation ...
My grandfather’s work bench and tools, where he set the diamonds into the ring I wear every day now and taught me to love the hard, precise labour of making things sparkle...
My grandmother’s dresser drawers, where sweaters were swathed in tissue and nylons nestled in satin boxes...
My great aunt’s silk scarves, which she doled out to me one at a time on holidays and which I have somehow, between then and now, lost...
Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday, when she cut her long hair and rolled up the sleeves of her proper dress, and became herself...
My mother’s leather mini skirt, which was a glorious glazed mahogany, her multi-coloured Missoni blouse, which was a knock-off, and her appetite for all things lovely and lively, which was and still is her most fabulous accessory...
Jean Seberg’s t-shirt in Breathless, which said New York Herald Tribune and spelt new-world style in the old-world style capital...
My school friend Martha, who at 16 wore a Peruvian poncho as a skirt and looked soignée...
My father’s giant box of oil pastels, which at the age of three or four I often played with, arranging and rearranging the rods of colour until my fingers were muddy...