Fun & Famous

What we can all learn from DvF

And no, it's not about wrap dresses

by Marion Pauw

I recently read the autobiography of Diane von Fürstenberg (‘The woman I wanted to be’, available only in English), and man oh man, what a lot we can learn from this woman. Her creativity, joie de vivre, and enormous dose of courage. But what stuck with me the most is the following:

Diane had a French boyfriend for a while around her forties. She had sold her company and since she didn't have a new project at hand, she moved to Paris for him. There she found herself amidst a group of rather heavy-handed intellectual types. You know the type: those people who always dress in black and debate for nights on IMPORTANT themes. Now, there is of course nothing wrong with French intellectuals. And Diane's French boyfriend adored her and she adored him. She even enjoyed being a housewife for a while, making midnight toasties for the intellectuals (okay, I made that part up) and enjoyed her life as a Parisienne.

But then it started. The French boyfriend was a few centimeters shorter than her. So he found it a bit annoying when she wore heels. Or if she could wear flat shoes from now on. Well, Diane was okay with that. Nothing wrong, you would think. But now the idea had crept into Diane's mind that she perhaps didn't fully meet his wishes. Because she loved flamboyant brightly colored dresses and cocktails and fashion. And he loved Goethe and brown pubs and cognac. She thought that maybe she was a bit too superficial for him. And too flashy. And too... well, not French intellectual enough.

Two years later, there was nothing left of the Diane we all love. She mainly wore gray and black clothing, skirts below her knees, she even cut her hair shorter and yes, also those flat shoes, huh. She had completely modeled herself to an ideal image that wasn't even necessarily his, but which she thought was his.

And do you know what he did?

He broke up with her.

Diane was in despair. A shadow of herself. She didn't know what to wear anymore (perhaps not literally either). She had become everything she thought he wanted and still it wasn't good enough. Fortunately, a very good friend spoke to her sternly at that time. He said:

‘Assume-toi.’

Since you probably aren't intellectual French people either, I'll explain what that means. Assume-toi is something like: take on your true form. In other words: be yourself in optima forma. And no one else.

This was exactly what Diane needed to hear. She let her hair grow, put on a pair of leopard print stilettos, and made a comeback like never before. She had no idea if she would achieve business success again, she had no idea if she would ever fall in love again, but she did know one thing. That whatever happened, she could never let herself down like that again.

I think we all sometimes adapt too much. That makes sense, because humans are herd animals and we have traditionally depended on the group to survive. Of course, there are social norms and you can take into account the wishes of others, but it goes wrong when you adapt so much that you lose your identity. That you think you belong if you have an it-bag. That you laugh at jokes that you actually find a bit hurtful. That you constantly wonder how you come across, whether your behavior is liked by others, whether your hair is trendy, and how you can score the most likes.

‘Assume-toi.’

To be very honest, I am quite sensitive to this myself. And it is also difficult to maintain your course amidst all the fashion people, hipsters, it-girls, diet gurus, bloggers, spiritual know-it-alls, etc. And it is especially difficult not to adapt when you have a partner who subtly lets it slip that you just don't quite meet his standards (God knows I’ve been there).

But I also know that if I adapt too much, I will ultimately become deeply unhappy. And I also know that it's better to seek out people who fit you rather than changing yourself just to fit in with others.

Assume-toi. Take on your true form.