Hadid Through Her Own Lens: A Fashion Sprite Seeks Depth
- Editorial Team
- Oct 18, 2024
- 3 min read
There she was, perched on the edge of the runway, a mischievous glint in those wide-set eyes. Bella Hadid. A creature seemingly spun from gossamer and good genes, all coltish limbs and impossibly high cheekbones. The kind of beauty that, in another era, might have graced a Botticelli canvas. But this is 2023, and the canvas is Instagram, the paintbrush a carefully curated feed.
For years, we’ve watched Hadid navigate the treacherous terrain of supermodel-dom. The red carpets, the magazine covers, the endless parade of impossibly glamorous (and often impossibly impractical) clothes. And, of course, the whispers. The ones that plague any woman who dares to exist in such a visually-driven world. Is she too thin? Too curated? Too…blank?
It’s this last question that Hadid seems determined to answer with a resounding “no.” Lately, she’s been stepping behind the lens, trading the passive role of muse for the active one of image-maker. Her photographs, often grainy and shot in a palette of muted tones, have a raw, almost voyeuristic quality. They’re a far cry from the glossy perfection of her professional life, and that’s precisely the point.
Remember that time, years ago, when everyone was obsessed with the “heroin chic” aesthetic? The waifish models, the dark circles under their eyes, the whole vibe of glamorous decay? It was disturbing, sure, but also strangely compelling. There was a vulnerability, a sense of fragility, that felt oddly authentic in a world obsessed with unattainable perfection. Hadid’s photography, in its own way, taps into that same vein. It’s not about presenting a flawless facade. It’s about revealing the person behind the mask.
One particularly striking image shows Hadid reflected in a cracked mirror, her features fragmented and distorted. It’s a powerful metaphor for the way women’s bodies are constantly scrutinized, dissected, and ultimately fractured by the male gaze. Another photo captures a close-up of her hands, calloused and work-worn. These are not the hands of a pampered princess. These are the hands of a woman who is actively shaping her own narrative.
And that’s what makes Hadid’s foray into photography so intriguing. She’s not just taking pretty pictures. She’s using her platform, her privilege, to explore deeper themes of identity, representation, and the pressure of living under a microscope. It’s a conversation that’s long overdue in the fashion world, and one that Hadid is uniquely positioned to lead.
Of course, there will always be cynics. Those who dismiss her efforts as mere vanity projects, the dabblings of a bored socialite. But to them, I say this: Look closer. Look beyond the surface. There’s a depth and a vulnerability in Hadid’s work that deserves to be acknowledged.
The fashion industry, with its relentless pursuit of the new and the next, has a way of chewing people up and spitting them out. It takes a certain kind of resilience, a certain kind of steeliness, to survive, let alone thrive. Hadid, it seems, possesses both. But more than that, she possesses a self-awareness, a willingness to challenge the status quo, that sets her apart from the pack.
She’s still young, this fashion sprite, still finding her way. But if her photography is any indication, she’s on the right track. And I, for one, am excited to see where the journey takes her.
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