The Man Behind the Lens, Exposed

"Fashion is the armor to survive the reality of every day life"
-Bill Cunningham

This phrase awakened goosebumps as I sat in the dark theater on W. Houston Street. The quaking voice of a journalistic legend delivered this candid metaphor to describe the attitude that I and many others take into the world each day. We all may harbor anxiety, fear or insecurity under the surface, but the clothes we wear, stitched with our personal style, is the thick skin we need to battle and thrive.

Earlier this week I had the pleasure of an evening at the movies. Film has always been equal parts escape and inspiration and is generally my default choice for leisure. What I admire about the genre is its ability to entertain and educate through visual stimulation. While I can enjoy Hollywood's blockbusters I have come to love Indie projects more, especially in the form of documentaries - films that open the window on a person or subject that has been locked away or seen only through smudged glass.

The subject of the screening I attended was Bill Cunningham, the iconic and venerable style photographer for the New York Times. In an interview, the creator of the movie stated that the film was eleven years in the making, nine of which were trying to convince Bill to participate.

Anna Wintour, the Editor-in-Chief of American Vogue, has been quoted as saying "we all dress for Bill". In the era of fashion blogs and street style, Bill Cunningham is the original. He has been documenting street fashion for 40+ years and holds a vast archive of New York history in his filing cabinets of film. Though he has also become a staple of the runways in Paris, Bill is known for believing that the best fashion show takes place on the streets. He could care less about celebrity fame, designer's names or societal pomp and circumstance, for him it's all about the clothes.

What we as an audience were treated to was an intimate look into the life of a modest man with an unbridled passion for personal style and an eye for trends. From first glance he looks no different than a common octogenarian puttering along on his classic Schwin, but his influence and mark on the fashion world is indescribable.

From his humble beginnings as a milliner in New York to a godfather of the runways, Bill Cunningham has lived without ever abandoning his principles or compromising his dignity for money or notoriety. As a man, he is funny, focused, spiritual and spry. He holds a unique perspective on life and has eschewed such "trivial pleasures" as eating or romance for the pursuit of his passion of clothes. For years he has lived modestly in the artist studios above Carnegie Hall and has never capitalized on his abilities or influence for monetary or personal gain. He quipped that "if you don't take money, they can't tell you what to do". He is a man after Sinatra's heart and purposefully does it "his way".

The film exposed the man behind the camera as someone of strong will and integrity; his tireless energy compromised only by a sense of loneliness in his approach. He desires nothing from outsiders and prefers to blend into his surroundings and document style as it naturally happens, not for popularity or endorsement. He is said to be an egalitarian, with an awareness of society but an indifference to its class and restraints. Whether you are an heiress or an outer-borough youth, the clothes are what he sees above all else.

I had the great honor of being shot twice by Bill this past summer while attending the Jazz Age Lawn Party on Governor's Island. At the time, I was blithely unaware of his existence and prominence in the fashion world. As he approached my girlfriend and I on both days of the event, I assumed that he was no more than a retiree entrenched in his hobby. When I tried to speak to him, he simply smiled and, without a word, scurried on to his next style muse. In my five years as a New Yorker, I can mark those occasions as hallmarks of my city life. Knowing that the grainy negatives of my humble attempts at style reside in his expansive sartorial catalog makes me proud to be a part of the larger scope of fashion in New York.

My experience with this film has come at a time when I find myself battling for a personal freedom. In what I can only guess is an attempt to commoditize their employees, my company recently instituted a uniform policy, depriving me of the great joy I take in dressing myself each day. In its essence they have stripped me of my armor, leaving me defeated and vulnerable to the elements of society. Although I have fought for my convictions, I can't help but think that Bill would have resigned out of a respect for himself and the preservation of his dignity (although, ironically, Bill wears a quasi-uniform each day - his signature blue jacket is part of the uniform of Parisian sanitation workers). New York is a place where individuality shines and where people like Bill take note. To be forced into daily stylistic monotony is as detrimental to a creative person as an arrow to the heart. I feel lucky to have seen this film during my current debacle, as it gives me added motivation to stand strong in my beliefs and fight for the freedom to embrace personal style. Bill's love of fashion and dedication to his principles is inspiration of the purest form.

Bill Cunningham's New York is an endearing, funny, insightful film that gives a rare glimpse into the life of a modest visionary that has influenced fashion for decades. If it is playing in your area, I highly recommend an evening at the movies.