Sunday, September 2, 2012

Street Meat: Luxury Shmuxury. A tongue twister.

“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 set of the photoshoot...
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 wealthwhich brings me to my next little story.
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.
Fashion Designer Rami Al-Ali and moi
“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

Any thoughts? 

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