Know Thyself
Sometimes, the exhaustibility of style theories is disproportionate to the zestful irregularities of our bodies. It is true, of course, that affiliating our silhouettes with particular objects or with a certain Yin-Yang balance makes our image-making less cumbersome. But in the attainment of good style and in the assertion of good taste, intuitive and experiential self-knowledge can be immeasurable.
Iris van Herpen, Capriole Collection, 2011. A sculptural white silhouette composed of pleated biomorphic forms and spiraled cut-outs captures van Herpen’s signature fusion of anatomical complexity and engineered precision. The garment frames the torso like an exoskeletal shell, while translucent filaments cascade from the sleeves and hips, evoking movement, tension, and the interplay between organic fluidity and structural discipline. Photographed backstage; available via Iris van Herpen. © All rights belong to their respective owners.
Geometrical structuring enables artists and illustrators to maintain a sense of proportion. But does it enable the wearer to maintain a sense of self? Image available via Medium. © All rights belong to their respective owners. No Copyright infringement intended.
Until approximately two weeks ago, I was quite convinced that I conformed to the so-called spoon body shape. Having decided to confirm my conjectures by means of actual measurement, I recorded my dimensions and entered them into several calculators. Rectangle, apparently. Conveniently enough, many tips which apply to spoons apply to rectangles, too. Yet, somehow, the very concept of a rectangle troubled my former confidence in revealing and concealing my frame and limbs. As an amateur artist and illustrator, I’m quite familiar with visual techniques which represent the human body as an assemblage of so many squares, triangles, axes, trapeziums, and other mathematical elements. But confound it: visualising an entire body, especially your own, as one homologous object, is a different matter altogether!
This week, I discovered the so-called Kibbe body type system, which is really rather a classification of flesh-and-blood personalities rather than body shapes. According to The Concept Wardrobe, Kibbe’s style theory aims for a “harmonious style image” rather than the “symmetry and balance” which the fruit body theories promote. As such, Kibbe’s 13 types adhere to style essence theory, in which “the natural lines and shapes of your face and body [are] repeated in clothing” (The Concept Wardrobe). Very much in line with its original intention, Kibbe’s model gives greater room for variation and intersectionality between bodily features – soft, sharp, blended, contrasting, angular, broad, moderate, elongated, petite, boyish, etc. The underlying principle is rooted in the balance between Yin and Yang extremities, which are associated with feminine and masculine energies, respectively.
However, the matrix as a whole is rather confusing and still quite limited (as any generalisation is bound to be). First of all, the substance of ‘energy’ is difficult to grasp. So is the distribution of feminine and masculine traits, but we will suppose that these are merely functional reference points. Second, some of your constitutional oddities will be left unacknowledged, especially if (like me) you happen to possess fleshy apple cheeks and a bony long nose: this configuration really puts Kibbe’s system out of joint. And finally, the discovery that you don’t fit into any of the subgroups, but hang limply between two of them, is a little awkward because you’d have thought that a scope of 13 archetypes should be accommodating enough.
Besides, it’s still disputable whether or not ‘harmony’ is actually distinct from ‘symmetry’ when beauty and fashion are concerned. As Umberto Eco writes in his book On Beauty, harmony has been thought of as a balance between opposites since Presocratic times, and since the Renaissance, symmetry is often referred to as the proper balance between different members of a whole. So, in the end, what we aspire to is something that agrees with our bodily parts and complements our physiques in their entirety.
The point is, whatever the body may resemble or evoke – be it a banana or a table spoon – no other body will know it quite as intimately as itself. Whichever constellation the body may or may not suit – be it Soft Classic or Flamboyant Gamine – no other body will have observed it as scrupulously as itself. Certainly, tests and categories give clever guidelines and advise us on many handy shortcuts. But they do not account for contingencies like our upbringing and our mode of living, which encompass physical development, mobility, fertility, custom, etc. A woman’s hip-to-bust ratio may be impacted by pregnancy and childbirth; a person’s hand size may owe its largesse to serious piano training or manual labour; waist definition may vary with posture.
The body is prone to change; some attributes will remain the same forever, but some will come and go with time and age. The will to accentuate, to flatter, to flatten, to adjust, to trick the eye or to please it, still rests with the one who inhabits that body. All we need is to watch, listen, and know ourselves.
