On finding sartorial
inspiration in films
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For me it is the story that clothes tell that makes them important, the fact that a simple piece of cloth paired with another can make people feel something; that it can make others think something of the person who wears them. You can change your whole self when you change your clothes and to me that is true magic. I feel like I have been aware of this power most of my life and have used it to my advantage in many instances. At any point in my life you could look at my clothes and almost certainly be able to tell what films I had been watching.
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I am an absolute reflection of the movies I watch. And costume is always at the epicentre for me. The first conscious example I have of this is a striped jumper worn by Emma Watson as Hermione in Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. I loved it on her and by some miracle I managed to find a jumper almost identical to it that I wore endlessly. The feeling that came from wearing it was an effortless cool stemming from my love of the character, inspiring my own confidence.
This was a feeling that I have emulated a thousand times over, capturing characters through the clothes they wore and inadvertently taking on their persona. By the time I was 14, all style advice came from the absolutely divine Helena Bonham Carter. I immersed myself into the world of Tim Burton and on a shoestring budget I tried to tie together outfits that would be the envy of Mrs Lovett or Bellatrix Lestrange. Stealing t-shirts from my mum and dad, I would shred up clothes and wear my hair back combed with random plaits. I must have truly looked disgusting, but at least I looked like something! I needed to look like the stars I looked up to. I could not bear the idea of looking the same as people around me. If I looked the same I would end up the same.
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"I could not bear the idea of looking the same as people around me. If I looked the same I would end up the same"
Growing up in a small working class town in the Midlands, films became a way of beating back the claustrophobic feeling of everyone knowing everything about me. I was terrified of being nothing, because things don't happen when you live where I am from, you grow up there and die there, and that is all.
Films about the working classes helped me forget about that later, in my teens, when I went through a stage of pure punk goodness. I wanted to be Vivienne Westwood or Joan Jett. When my sister and I watched The Run, I reached swiftly for the eyeliner. My wardrobe must-have items were shorts, so I shredded my tights and wore Dr Martens... Simple!
Around the same time I had a marathon run of Billy Elliot, so I stole my mum's high waisted jeans, worn with serious turn ups and Dr Martens creepers. Always an advocate for working class style, I could not pass up on the This is England vibes. I am always careful with the pieces that I add to my wardrobe making, so checked shirts and Fred Perry's were added swiftly, again stolen from my dad's wardrobe.
I am totally curated. Even when I look like a complete mess, I have taken inspiration from characters out of a Mike Leigh film or an off duty Billie Piper. The only time I feel really cool – like I have style – is when I can reference a film for the outfit I am wearing. And although I followed fashion and occasionally jumped on the trend bandwagon, I've always been happier when collating my own little costume cupboard in my wardrobe.
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Leah Short is a 22-year old poetry writer from Nottingham who currently lives in London, England.