From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Hedi Slimane, the Dior design director, is also the most sought-after figure in the fashion world, fervently pursued by top fashion insiders.

Despite this, Hedi still appeared reserved and introverted, seemingly unaccustomed to being the center of attention; only when alone in private would he relax and reveal a side unseen at other times.

Like now.

Hedi and Anson were old friends; from reserve to relaxation, from formality to familiarity, entering Anson's home today further narrowed the distance, to the point where he even started joking around; then, he sized up Anson with a meaningful look, gently shaking his head, revealing a regretful expression.

"Anson, you're wrong."

"I was just making a harmless little joke, but you joked about ending the partnership with Dior."

"Not only that, but you also asked me to betray Dior and work for you?"

"That's not funny."

Hedi's words were unhurried, but he said every word that needed to be said, firmly stating his position, his slightly narrowed eyes fixed on Anson.

Anson wasn't surprised—

Last time, when Edgar mentioned the plan, Anson's counter-strategy was Hedi; they needed Hedi's help, or rather, the help of a professional, to provide different fashion options, different matching combinations, to create a fashion icon from the inside out.

This job would have a professional name ten years later: stylist.

Of course, it existed now, and had for a long time.

However, the division of labor was not clear or well-defined; currently, so-called stylists often only provided matching suggestions, as part of the clothing styling team. They themselves did not have design capabilities or innovative abilities, working under the clothing design or art direction team, their thinking greatly limited and not valued.

It could be said that current stylists are not yet able to stand alone, because the "styling" industry/profession has not yet received much attention.

Therefore, Anson thought of Hedi.

Perhaps Hedi could provide professional advice, and gradually polish and separate the "styling" profession—which already objectively existed but was not clear or perfect—into subdivisions and specializations, opening up a brand-new direction in the fashion world.

However, Anson also knew that Hedi was the design director of Dior, holding a high position. Now, he was asking Hedi to work for him, and to some extent, in a job that competed with Dior. Such a request sounded like a pipe dream, and any reaction from Hedi would not be surprising.

Strictly speaking, the fact that Hedi hadn't stormed off was already a good start.

Meeting Hedi's gaze, the corners of Anson's mouth curved upward slightly.

"Hedi…"

"Mr. Slimane, I thought Dior didn't want to continue our partnership agreement."

Noticing Hedi's gloomy expression, Anson deliberately switched to a more formal address, but the teasing smile remained on his face.

Sure enough, Hedi was immediately provoked.

"Who said that!"

Only realizing he had raised his voice after speaking, Hedi took a deep breath and controlled himself.

"I didn't expect to be ambushed."

Hedi quietly looked at Anson. Although he didn't grit his teeth, one could hear the suppressed anger in his voice.

Anson raised an eyebrow slightly, very surprised.

He really hadn't expected Dior menswear to sell so well in the past year.

At this moment, he realized that in the era after the official full promotion of global integration after the millennium, the concept of a "global village" was also emerging in recent years. All industries had entered the process of globalization, and all walks of life were ushering in opportunities for comprehensive development. This was a prosperous era.

"Mr. Slimane."

Anson had just opened his mouth when he saw Hedi glare at him quietly, which made Anson laugh heartily.

"Hedi, do you know the difference between hard sell and soft sell?"

Hedi was somewhat confused.

First, he didn't know why Anson suddenly changed the subject.

Second, he really hadn't heard of anything called hard sell or soft sell.

Hedi immediately became alert, "Anson, what are you plotting?"

Anson spread his hands innocently, "Conversation, Hedi, we are having a conversation. Your attitude hurts me."

Hedi was slightly embarrassed, muttering a few words but ultimately not speaking.

A smile appeared in Anson's eyes, and he continued to speak.

"Hard sell is to bluntly tell consumers that my stuff is particularly good, you must buy it, clearly telling consumers that this is advertising, I am bragging about myself."

"Soft sell is implanted and subtle. For example, Jennifer Aniston, she carried a handbag today, without advertising or promotion, but when paparazzi photographed it and published it on the cover of 'Entertainment Weekly,' women saw it, and suddenly this unknown little brand sold five thousand handbags."

The principle was simple but direct.

Although the Internet hadn't fully developed yet, and the general public hadn't completely grown tired of advertising, even hard sell still had a powerful influence; but it had to be admitted that the golden age of advertising had slowly begun to decline. In the eighties and nineties, some people even enjoyed watching advertisements, pausing to watch every time there was one, but now there was almost none.

Naturally, how to promote and market had also become a brand-new task for all commodities.

Anson's words were simple, direct, and vivid, immediately making Hedi understand.

"So, I continue to work with Dior as Dior's exclusive spokesperson, that's hard sell. If Dior expects it, I am very willing to continue working together."

"But I think we have a better way of working together, not just simple advertising, but evolving Dior into a lifestyle, an image, quietly integrating it into my life, my image, deeply creating a brand-new fashion label. Perhaps in the short term, you won't see a direct effect of soaring sales, but in the long term, it can reshape Dior's image."

The words stopped there. Anson didn't continue to aggressively persuade. He believed that Hedi was a smart man, and he could understand the concepts and ideas that weren't explicitly stated.

Hedi savored it for a moment, then looked up at Anson.

"You mean, I'll be your stylist, and then subtly integrate my clothes into your daily outfits, naturally conveying an image?"

Anson snapped his fingers, "Bingo."