Heidi’s Comments (group member since Oct 07, 2014)

Heidi’s comments from the Women in Clothes discussion, with editors Sheila Heti, Leanne Shapton, and Heidi Julavits group.

Eliza wrote: "In your New York Times video last week, you talked about how you went out to compliment other women on their clothes and put those conversations in the book. Were there any other instances where yo..."
Dear Eliza,
I do think we were, in some cases, capturing moments that happened organically—the compliments are definitely an example of this, and I'm now so aware when a person says to me, "I like your ring," i.e. a total stranger, for example a woman at the plane gate taking my ticket said that to me the other day, totally unbidden! (And a woman, as I was just now crossing the street, yelled at me, "I like your necklace!") These acts of stranger affirmation and connection can be the most confidence-inspiring, and also make you feel like you are communicating effectively (if that's what you want to do—I think I mostly do want that most days. Other women are communicating different messages, I am now much more aware of the variety of messages that are out there after doing this book). In other cases, I think we used this "organic" impulse and stretched it to areas where people were maybe not so likely to open up (but wanted to)—the "Mothers As Others" section, for example. Women submitted a photo of their mothers before their mothers had any children, and wrote about the woman they saw in the photo, the woman they would never meet. This is maybe the heart of the book—women "speaking" across time to the experiences of their own mothers. Time is such an important facet of clothing—when we dress in the morning, we're dressing for the future. What do we expect to encounter during the day? What responsibilities do we have, what joys await? Sometimes reaching backward is a way to go forward most confidently. A mother's style, or even the style of a past iteration of yourself, can make you feel like you have company, that you're not alone. Lovely question, I hope I answered it! --Heidi

Michael wrote: "Did pizza fashion ever come up? (You may wish to answer by describing what it would be like to wear pizza fashion if you don't already.)

It seems like an interesting case - primary colors, simple ..."

Dear Michael
I should be googling "pizza fashion" right now so that I can pretend I know what it is! I'll just confess--I don't. But your question makes me think of the interview we have in the book with former New York Times restaurant reviewer Ruth Reichl—she talks about the difference between style and taste in the food world, and then says that she wants to be an ear of corn or a perfect peach. As in, that's how she wants to feel and to be in her everyday life, that's her ideal state. Maybe we could all start thinking of "taste" in fashion differently—as something you notice with a sense other than your eyes. I think of my kids and how they still sometimes put their sleeves in their mouths. The "mouthfeel" of fabric! Remember when we used to appreciate our shirts that way? I'll look forward to THAT runway show (models eating the clothes, in addition to wearing them.) I bet this is not beyond the realm of possibility. Thanks for writing in--Heidi

Rosie wrote: "Hello! I really enjoyed Women in Clothes and I feel like it's a book I am going to come back to again and again for sage advice and reassurance so thank you for creating it.
Hi Rosie,
Great question. One that's speaking to me today. Early on we wanted to talk to women about how they dressed to calm themselves or to protect themselves—some people wore suits, some people wore large sweaters, some people wore weird socks hidden from view—they had "secret style" that only they knew about. I once decided that I needed a pair of roughhewn wooden heels in order to most confidently teach a famous actor I thought would be in my class (he wasn't—I bought the heels anyway). Right now I'm about to teach and, to be honest, I don't feel totally confident in what I'm wearing. It's an outfit I wore yesterday and yesterday it seemed magical but today the spell has worn off, and I look like a person wearing a dress who forgot to take off her pajama pants. My point is—confidence dressing can change radically, even for the same person, from one day to the next. It's like I have to rediscover my route to confidence every day—because I'm not in exactly the same mood I was yesterday. Trying to "be" someone else's idea of power has never worked (though I did buy a skirt suit—plaid—I hope I have the guts to wear it this winter.) Even my own previous ideas don't work! I have to reinvent it every time. I hope I answered your question--thanks so much for writing in. I can't wear 80s shoulder pads. I am not tall enough. I look like an inverted teepee. Also I feel like Glenn Close in FATAL ATTRACTION. --Heidi

Effie wrote: "My question is for Heidi. Ms. Ackermann's sense of style is obviously important to The Vanishers because one of the main points of her character development is that her style is imitated by her fol..."Hi Effie--here's a link with a photo that was my inspiration for Madame Ackermann's style http://heidijulavits.tumblr.com/post/...
I love this photo so much, and I sat with a book of Eva Hesse's art next to me while I was writing, in hopes that she'd infiltrate my pages with her stylish genius. Madame Ackermann is far more naughty, however, than the innnocent-looking Hesse; I modeled Ackermann's work (and to a small degree, her character) on the "artistic persona" of Sophie Calle. Another stylish genius. I basically used style icons I look up to in real life to inspire me in my fake life! I became a style groupie of my own characters as a result. It was an effective trick to keep me engaged and working. Thanks for the great question, Heidi