“No behind-the-scenes pictures
allowed. No posting anything on facebook.” He points at me, “and I’m talking to
you!” Um, okay. It seems my presence
has made someone eerily uncomfortable. I haven’t taken a picture, or
said a word. I am merely an observer today, even though my editor-in-chief has
brought me here for the sole purpose of fully putting me in charge of
photoshoots in the future. Nevertheless, stay
on the sidelines, do not unwillingly
intimidate anyone, this is the world of high fashion. Here’s a trick I use, be super nice with a touch of naiive, until you are misconceived as vulnerable = you’re no competition to anyone. Then BAM! Let em’ have it. Always expect to hit a wall and wait for the bricks to crumble, because not
everyone is nice, not everyone is accepting, not everyone has good intentions
and not everyone is selfless.
The NYC themed photoshoot was beautiful,
the outfits were so elegant and the model looked every bit like Audrey Hepburn.
Instead of sharing the “behind-the-scenes” photos, I’ll wait for the issue to
come out and share the finalized ones. If you asked me a couple of months ago
when I was having fun taking pictures and doing little shoots for my blog, it
would’ve never crossed my mind that I’d be in charge of shooting for high-end
brands. I mean I myself never understood luxury fashion, and I never got my
hands on it. The idea of spending 1500$ on a purse completely blew my mind
away. That’s my freakin’ 2 months rent!
(Uptown Toronto, definitely not downtown Dubai) My idea of fashion was never
throwing clothes away, collecting my cousin’s old clothes, and coming up with
outfits that literally made certain
people think it was off a D&G runway. “No, just change the letters.
H&M” Nevertheless, that was not my intention. I never understood the point of bragging about the expensive designer clothes one buys. Shouldn’t you brag about bargains
instead? I mean how is spending so much money on garments, an accomplishment?
Shouldn’t you brag about looking like a million bucks, while you’ve only spent
50 on your outfit. Or nothing for that matter. My point isn’t directed towards money, it’s about fashion
being an expression of individuality,
not wealth… which brings me to my next little story.
The set of the photoshoot... |
So it was my first Ramadan in Dubai, and I noticed that contrary
to Saudi, iftars and suhoors are part of the lifestyle here. A social thing. During
my first two weeks at work, there was an influx of invites. Tissot, Rivoli,
L’Occitane…all these big companies inviting the media out for gatherings. Of
course, the sole purpose of attending these affairs is networking. For many,
it’s being seen at the city’s most extravagant “tents.” (For all you western
readers, Ramadan tents aren’t the ones that you’ve seen in Aladdin, they are
elaborately designed halls that have the aura and atmosphere of a tent. From
the arabesque décor, to the entertainment and the food) There are two specific
dinners of this sort that stood out for me. One of them took place at the most famous
tent, which I should mention, was worked on by a famous Saudi female interior
designer who’s going to be featured in my magazine next month. When I came toDubai, I was a bit worried that I would unconsciously alter my personal style
to fit in with my surroundings. In other words, I was scared to lose my sense
of individuality. One of the ways in
which we express our uniqueness, is undoubtedly through the way we dress. From
A to Z. From head to toe. Sometimes we take on a job that forces us to adopt a
certain dress code for example, and the next thing you know, your wardrobe
looks as dull as those identical beige towers I’m looking at right now from my
window.
Anyway, so I get to the suhoor, and we have this awesome corner
vip section just for us. Oh la la.
Contrary to what extroverts are misconceived as, I am not comfortable with
unwanted attention nor do I like being put in a pretentious situation. I’d feel
like a baby who’s struggling to get out of their high-chair. Nevertheless, I
had a feeling something meaningful would come out from this. I got to meet an
awesome designer who had just come back from presenting his collection at the
Paris Fashion Week. But most importantly, I spent most of my time chit-chatting
with his pr girl. She’s originally Moroccan but grew up in Amsterdam, and was
now living in Dubai. I’m not sure how the subject came up, but after we got
kind of close and began talking about personal things, I shared with her my
fear of being sucked into all of this. We spoke about the different cities
we’ve been to and lived in, around the world, and how we missed those genuine,
authentic hang outs that give an identity to the urban life. We spoke of how
that’s lacking here in Dubai. I told her about the time when my best friend was
in a lounge with her husband who decided to play the piano, and they told him
to stop because he didn’t have a “license.” I remember being in London, and the
musician actually inviting him to play along….anyway this is saved for a post
on its own.
“I knew you were a blogger, the second you walked in here. All
eyes were on you.” she says to me. “There’s just something about bloggers,
they’re probably the only ones who aren’t afraid to express themselves through
fashion.” I smile. I tell her how I feel like it’s so clean-cut here, and
dressing differently comes off as trying to get attention. “If there’s anything
I learned from moving here, is that you have to fight for your individuality.”
She continues. “I remember this girl came up to me once, dressed in all these
brand names. She said to me, ‘you know, I should be in Fashion!’ I just wanted
to tell it like it is and say, no you shouldn’t!” She went on about how many
people relate fashion to luxury around here, rather than style and personality.
Then we went on to speak of the life in Dubai and the illusion of luxury. How everyone here seems to be living luxurious lifestyles. I wanted to get to the
bottom of this! Afterall, I may look like I’m living the luxury life, but I
don’t even have my own place yet. I’m still a gypsy, couch surfing. Albeit it’s
a pretty comfortable couch I will soon inherit from my humble friend. I’m not a
moocher. No sir. It just takes time to settle in to a new country, I’ve done it
many times before. After my long and meaningful conversation at the suhoor, I
wanted to embark on a little social experiment. I wanted to take this illusion of luxury, one step further. Those
who are rich and can afford it don’t need to think twice before spending a fortune
on luxury, but what about those who think it’s reasonable to spend half their
pay check on a purse? Let’s try to make some sense of this. Living in Dubai,
facilitates this illusion. It’s a city. There’s some degree of anonymity, so
it’s easier to get away with not being yourself. In Toronto, not being yourself
would mean blending in with the alternative crowd and developing a free spirit.
That’s what the city does to you.
Lebanon, had a nice balance between the superficial and the
alternative, almost like being in the middle of a pendulum and being constantly
hit by both sides. Contrary to my preconceptions, there was plenty of room for
individuality.
In Dubai, however, you have to fight to keep yourself from being
sucked into a pretentious lifestyle.
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
Any thoughts?
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