Whilst I have spent much of my career as a professional communicator building shimmering images of glamour and desire I have to say that the idea of glamour actually repels me as an idea.
I love the chase of an idea or image, a concept distilled down to its simplest form and then adorned is to me the most powerful way to build a narrative either visual, auditory or in language.
To me that’s the antiglamour really.
Glamour is the narrative turn fed by jealousy and a desire to withhold or hide beauty. It is created through a tantalizing feeling of access to privilege that is really rooted in a lack of access – glamour is dress up, a taunt or the reminder of an absence in your life, be it excitement or power or wealth or control of others. That’s what drives the desire to consume: either to project the taunt “look at me, you can’t have this” or to struggle to own it.
The problem is that while this works, it also makes people unhappy with their lives.
To me the mysteries that work best in communication and fashion aren’t those heavy handed storylines of glamour but rather the suggestive breezes of momentary uplift when we are reminded of the beauty and joy of a simple moment… a deep breath upon stepping outside for the first time after a day in a building, a perfect coffee as the sun kisses your face even on a crisp winter day. The fleeting electric tingle of a brush of your hand by someone you like.
To me the sun and the breeze and the tingle of the cold in my cheek or the split second thrill of light touch are sensations that remind me that I am alive and that life holds so much promise.
That’s real glamour. The rest is vanity, isn’t it?