I’m a sucker for quizzes and questionnaires, from the serious Myers-Briggs and silly ones on Facebook. The only problem is that I usually come up as a little of this and a little of that. Equal proclivities for being helpful and wanting to be in control, for being an artist and being an intellectual. Introvert and Extrovert. When it comes to fashion, I’m a mix of casual and romantic, bombshell and rocker, with a little gamine thrown in for good measure. My home is even harder to categorize although eclectic comes closest to describing my mix of classic modern Scandinavian, friends’ cast-offs, and Crate and Barrel furniture, accessorized by textiles from far-flung travels and dog paraphernalia.
So when I found “Style Statement,” a book with nine questionnaires that held the promise of distilling my style down to two words, I couldn’t resist. The questionnaires covered everything from body image to money issues, from dream travel destination (Easter Island) to what you would wear to the Oscars (strapless lavender silk gown).
But after taking all the questionnaires and reading all the profiles, from authors Carrie McCarthy (“Refined Treasure”) and Danielle LaPorte (“Sacred Dramatic”) to their clients (“Timeless Constructive,” “Genteel Vitality,” etc.), I still felt a bit lost. I re-read the explanations of the “foundation words,” which represent your 80% “core identity,” as opposed to your 20% “creative edge.” The second word came fairly quickly: allure, which in my mind includes playfulness and feminine mystery. But I couldn’t settle on a foundation word that encompasses my intellectual and creative sides, my practical, cut-to-the-chase directness, love of travel and propensity to nurture. Was I “Feminine” or “Sophisticate” or “Genuine”? Genuine Allure sounded pretentious while Feminine Allure seemed redundant.
I like the description of “Elemental” as being interested in the mysteries of the universe, but I wasn’t sure that I could live up to the quality of making everyday life magical. “Elemental Allure” did have a nice ring to it, plus the dot com address was available. The authors encourage readers to use their style statement as a tool in everyday life, which led me to wonder what kind of enterprise I could launch as Elemental Allure? (Hand-carved wooden furniture and jewelry with raw gemstones came to mind.) How would my life, or just my wardrobe, change—if at all—were I to adapt this as a motto of sorts?
The idea that two words could make sense of my past, help me in winnowing out what no longer works in the present and choose more wisely in the future is incredibly seductive. And certainly for someone working in the design field, especially as a consultant, like the author and many of those profiled, a style statement could help differentiating oneself from the competition and develop a kind of brand identity. But for the rest of us, the idea that any person, even oneself, can be summed up in a single phrase, a personal brand if you will. is just a little disturbing.
