The Art of Appearing Effortless
An Exploration of an Aesthetic Paradigm
Originally I had been writing another post before this, however after some consideration I have that posting this first would make better sense context-wise. This topic has been floating in my mind for a while now after the reading Danielle Meder of Final Fashion’s piece in The New Inquiry and in particular, after hearing Rebecca Mead of The New Yorker’s podcast for their September 23rd Style Issue.
It’s something that we have heard over and over again in fashion on how to look effortless, the vaunted je ne sais quoi quality of certain people, the paragon of which are usually French Parisians with their “perfectly mussed up hair”, understated makeup and cigarettes. One big cited icon of such a look is British supermodel Kate Moss; on the stateside, it were the Olsen twins for a good part of the 2000s, before Erin Wasson taking the banner during her collaboration with Alexander Wang.
There is nothing new about this phenomenon, so why is it worthy of discussion? Primarily, it’s the great aesthetic paradigm of fashion right now, dominating each of our approaches to dressing ever (regardless of our chosen style) since we eschewed the stiff formalities of 1940s dress. For many of you that are wise enough to no longer drink the cool-aid, know fully well the paradoxical nature of just how much effort it does take to look “effortless”. Effortless was never meant to be taken literally, rather it suggests a stylized effortlessness,eluding to the elitist undertones of the phenomenon. The crux of the problem though, is not that such effortlessness requires such an effort (all of which is implicitly understood) but rather, is appearing “effortless” even realistic for the masses, which in turn renders their adamant belief that one needs products X, Y and Z to maintain their “effortless” appearance, problematic?
What exactly does “effortless” look like? There is no specific style per se, but what has been consistent over time is the feeling of ‘undone’ naturalness. This state of undone is shown though controlled unkempt-ness: we want bed hair stylized with surf spray, not actual bed hair. It is not surprising that we would gravitate towards such an aesthetic, as a reflection of a natural endowment of special innate attributes and taste. Those who appear effortless are seen to be born with those qualities intrinsically. As Meder’s article suggests, such individuals are already ‘in the know’—an object of emulation—that they do not need other flashy accouterments to advertise their special status. Such behavior is no different than the elites of the past, in their desire to display their wealth and status as naturally conferred to them as God’s predestined chosen few. To look undone is an outward expression of ennui: a statement of not just sophistication but also how secure one feels in their social status.
Many fashion writers have made many lists of such effortless fashionistas, but little (if any at all) have examined why those individuals are named as such. In cross-examining such individuals, a common denominator appears: beauty. It may seem too easy of an answer and all together obvious, but beauty is the closest asset to the innate quality expressed (and arguably accentuated) by effortlessness: those who are already considered beautiful can afford larger margins of errors in dress and still look attractive.
One concrete example of this is the so-called “model-off-duty” look, which is usually understood to be the “inventive” pairing of pieces both high end and low. It is strange that it would be even considered as a look, a style worthy of imitation, when it seems like a natural result of a model’s circumstance of having access to designer clothes yet not the income to sustain a full outfit (hence supplementing with cheaper options). One must not forget that at the end of the day, these are models that conform to conventional (I do use this term loosely as runway is different to commercial) standards of beauty, with their high cheekbones and impossibly long limbs.
The problem lies in drawing the line between what already looks good and what the added value of style would be. It sounds pedantic but has implications for many, especially those who want to commodify their status. Case in point, Alexa Chung tells readers in her new book It, that she applies eye liner then blinks really hard so it looks lived in. Alexa’s situation is interesting in that she reveals her hand, so to speak, on something that is supposed to look natural. First, it is a obvious move to monetize her It girl status but also a subversive one in trying to bring the audience closer to her, to prove that she too is just one of us. This though, feeds back to the idea that she is an everyday girl—au naturelle so to speak.However of course, she takes a step further in milking this insight for what it’s worth: hawking a new liquid eye-liner set.
The issue I have with “effortlessness” is that is used to manipulate people into overextending themselves to pursue an illusionary ideal, that frankly hinges on many other factors than just products.There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look undone, but one should realize that are caveats to the equation. It should be acknowledged that appearing effortless is more than an art or an intrinsically imitable quality and rather, a tool in the kits of Madison Avenue executives everywhere.
Are you sold?
