From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

The air was subtly tense, a sense of disorder and strain present within the stillness, yet not outwardly revealed, creating a feeling of holding one's breath.

Although there were over a dozen staff members present, one's gaze was drawn solely to Anna Wintour as she moved, while the others did their utmost to remain inconspicuous.

This small detail spoke volumes—

Here, Anna truly held the power of life and death.

Despite the work commencing half an hour earlier than scheduled, causing some anxiety, the team operated with organized efficiency amidst the chaos; however, everyone diligently avoided entering Anna's line of sight, fearing that they might become the next sacrificial lamb.

With a sudden halt, Anna abruptly turned around, her unexpected action freezing the entire studio as if someone had pressed the pause button, causing Anson and Edgar to instinctively stop in their tracks, only then noticing Anna's scrutinizing gaze:

She was observing Anson.

Finally, Anna removed her sunglasses, allowing an unobstructed and thorough examination.

Tilting her head slightly, she remarked, "Somewhat disappointing. Is your everyday attire always so unremarkable?"

Her opening was an attack, clearly unconcerned with anyone's feelings.

However, Anson remained unperturbed, even chuckling softly. "Invariably so."

"I presume this is why I've never become a trendsetter?"

He even offered a self-deprecating remark, but Anna was clearly unimpressed, staring at Anson with a gaze as piercing as Medusa's.

Anson lightly shrugged, his expression relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Actually, I've always been curious, and it would be wonderful if Ms. Wintour could enlighten me: What is fashion? What is trendiness?"

"A hideously ugly mask from 'Scream' paired with a long black robe lacking shape, color, or tailoring, becoming a sensation due to people's morbid curiosity, with countless young people wearing it to attract attention—would that be considered trendy?"

"Can an avant-garde and stylish outfit that doesn't suit anyone be called fashionable? The same ensemble looks dashing on David Beckham but inexplicably strange on Charlie Smith—is that fashion too?"

Anna paused, taken aback. "Who is Charlie Smith?"

Anson spread his hands. "An insignificant nobody."

A fabricated name, highlighting the disparity between the seller's presentation and the buyer's reality.

Anna immediately understood, realizing it was Anson's counterattack, but she refused to be led astray. "Is this your rebellion? So you've opted for the scholarly combination of a shirt and sweater?"

"Resisting trends through tradition is indeed a valid perspective." A smile filled Anson's eyes. "But, regrettably, no. I'm simply following my own inclinations."

"Before someone puts it on, clothing is merely a pile of fabric. It is people who give it life, and only then does it acquire meaning. We love fashion, we pursue fashion, not to imbue clothing with meaning, but to give meaning to our own lives, hoping to touch upon some brilliance, some beauty, to find the warmth of life."

"Therefore, before blindly chasing trends, perhaps we should pause and ask ourselves: What kind of person do you want to be?"

Calm, smooth, grounded.

Yet, powerfully profound.

Anna quietly gazed at Anson, and suddenly the answer to all her questions surfaced. Why was "GQ" magazine able to spark fashion trends? Why had Dior, after a long slump, suddenly regained its vitality? The secret and mystery stood before her—

Before someone puts it on, clothing is merely a pile of fabric.

Therefore, the ordinary and simple outfit before her could catch the eye because the answer lay within Anson himself.

Lacking the expected flamboyance and pride, or the anticipated nervousness and unease, the inherent composure and serenity exuded a strength that was both resilient and warm, quietly radiating light.

As Anson had said, such attire would be unremarkable on the streets of Paris, perhaps a student heading to the library, a professor just finishing class, an average architect, or a passerby browsing philosophy at a bookstore, hardly anything special; but on Anson, the layers of color and the design of proportions effortlessly captured attention.

Fashion, trends, life—it turned out there was such an interpretation.

Involuntarily, Anna felt a surge of emotion.

The vague and hazy topic in her mind was gradually becoming clearer, until now, Anna finally faced Anson squarely, standing on equal footing, carefully examining the young man.

Anna had a premonition:

Perhaps this boy could change the course of men's fashion entirely.

To others, such a thought might seem insane, but Anna knew that it was not so. History often changed course in this way, without great fanfare or upheaval, but rather in quietude.

Ignoring Anson's lengthy discourse, Anna seamlessly transitioned back to work, once again firmly taking control, and the bewildered and shocked emotions in the studio quickly dissipated, everyone bustling around Anna.

Edgar: …

Slightly helpless, Edgar was once again amazed by Anson's words, although it wasn't the first time, he could still feel the power of his heart pounding in his chest, but he didn't expect Anna to brush it aside so easily, feeling frustrated and helpless like punching cotton.

Then, Edgar noticed Anson, who calmly and confidently stepped forward, completely unaffected, which made Edgar clench his fists secretly, regain his focus, and face a devil like Anna—they had to be extra careful.

Immediately afterward, Edgar saw the dazzling array of clothing racks before him—

Shirts, T-shirts, jeans, hoodies, short sleeves, long sleeves, and more were all available, from outerwear to tops to pants, from shoes to hats to accessories, from formal wear to casual wear to evening wear, the variety was overwhelming.

At a glance, there were at least six hundred pieces of clothing here, and the actual number was likely higher.

Even Edgar couldn't help but hold his breath and exclaim in admiration. Paris was indeed the fashion capital, and a small studio could be so dazzling. It seemed they would be staying here all day today.

However, the real surprise was yet to come.

"You choose and coordinate your own outfits. I'll give you a theme first: everyday autumn. Pick everyday outfits based on your taste and style."

Anna said, and Edgar doubted his ears, his jaw almost dropping, but Anna seemed oblivious to the bombshell she had dropped, repeating for confirmation.

"Rely entirely on yourself. Our theme is to see your true self. True taste, true fashion."