From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Rustle, rustle.

In the air, a gentle surge of hushed whispers and private conversations, occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter, neither too loud nor overwhelming, briefly subsided after a prolonged period of high-frequency, high-energy output.

A hint of laziness and ease gradually permeated the atmosphere, as if only now did the onlookers begin to enjoy the awards ceremony and prepare for the true climax of the second half.

It was at this moment that the final guest of the first half of the red carpet made their appearance.

The reaction from the crowd was slightly delayed, failing to erupt immediately.

Carelessly, gazes shifted, searching for the figure along the red carpet.

However.

No screams, no cheers, no whistles, and no applause.

Even the golden sunlight swirling and fluttering in the air slowed its pace, vaguely outlining the tall and slender figure standing before them.

The scalding, intense light quietly softened, gently tracing the clear and bright lines of his eyebrows and eyes.

As if afraid to disturb time itself.

Everything slowly returned to stillness, and time itself seemed to pause.

No exclamations, no discussions, not a single sound.

The reporters and guests behind finally noticed the unusual situation ahead, their gazes gradually converging, the silence rippling outwards like gentle waves.

The laziness and ease, the casualness and relaxation, allowed taut nerves to completely unwind, momentarily forgetting how to tense up again, even failing to feel the shock, unknowingly sinking deep within—

Trapped in the confines of time, drifting, wandering, completely forgetting everything.

That was…

A blue suit.

Not a low-key, deep navy blue, nor a bright, eye-catching peacock blue, but a fresh, natural baby blue, like the refreshing brightness that washes over you when a creamy blue lake is infused with lush greenery.

Sweeping across the vibrant, flamboyant red carpet, it dispersed the stuffiness and drowsiness of the afternoon's lingering heat, diving headfirst into the water vapor and breeze, opening up the field of vision.

Bright, vibrant, with a beauty that soothed the soul.

In an instant, the entire audience's gaze locked onto him—

Anson Wood.

It was Anson, undoubtedly one of the biggest highlights of tonight's Golden Globe Awards ceremony.

Everyone assumed that Anson would definitely appear in the second half, competing with superstars such as Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt for the spotlight; but no one ever imagined that Anson would actually appear as the last guest of the first half, and with a devastating force, plunged the entire red carpet into stunned silence.

One appearance was worth a thousand words.

Unconventional!

Among the monotonous black suits of the men at the awards ceremony, even white suits were rare.

The classic black and white pairing had long since immunized the general public, to the point where they automatically filtered out male appearances on the red carpet; what was happening before their eyes was undoubtedly unconventional.

In 2003, it could even be said to be subversive.

This was a first.

Like a spring breeze, gently caressing the face, allowing people to feel a hint of spring as early as January in the Northern Hemisphere, and even more so in Los Angeles, which had not seen rain in over three months and was facing potential wildfire danger, it brought a refreshing feeling like spring rain, a wonderful sensation that was truly difficult to accurately describe.

However, if it were only that, a different color, conservative opinions would inevitably launch attacks using words with obvious derogatory connotations such as "attention-seeking" and "trying to stand out."

Moreover, the object of their attention was Anson?

Idol.

Pretty boy.

Handsome face.

Empty shell.

Labels like these, under the current circumstances, could often unleash two hundred percent of their power.

Foul language, unimaginable.

The reporters could foresee this, so how could Anson's team not have foreseen it?

Clearly, the suit was more than that, far more.

The double-breasted shawl collar design reawakened the elegance and vigor of French youth in the eighties.

The streamlined cut revealed a youthful vibe within the retro style, creating a conflicting contradiction with the solemn, steady, noble, and formal double-breasted style, inadvertently leaking a hint of rock and roll rebellion.

The front half of the shawl collar maintained the same color as the suit itself, but the back of the neck was ink black, echoing the ink black shirt inside the suit, and finally paired with a black bow tie, tied in the Albert knot.

At this point, one could notice the shirt's small pointed collar.

Elegant yet vibrant, romantic yet洒脱 (sǎtuō - free and unrestrained).

However, was this all there was to it?

Probably not, because the overall visual effect was still distinctly different, easily distinguishable from other men wearing suits.

Just because of the color?

Just because of the combination?

Until—

"Proportion."

Cindy finally gave the correct answer.

Although "Charm" magazine was squeezed out and criticized by true professional fashion magazines, she also had her own professional knowledge.

"Obviously, this double-breasted suit isn't Armani."

"Generally speaking, the hem of a double-breasted suit will cover the hips, making it slightly wider and more formal, but the impact of this is that it makes men's body proportions look terrible, with the upper body longer than the lower body, creating an imbalance."

"We've become accustomed to this kind of suit, and never felt anything was amiss.

But after Anson Wood burst onto the scene, he allowed us to see men's waists and legs, and he also allowed us to see men's proportions.

This is a revolution for the fashion industry, a completely subversive change."

"Today, Anson has taken it a step further, discarding the hem of the double-breasted suit.

The hem of the suit jacket falls right between the waist and the hips; at the same time, this suit is completely tailored, using fabric to wrap the body, perfectly outlining the body's proportions.

Slightly larger movements might tear the clothes, but this kind of bespoke tailoring reveals Anson's slender figure and perfect golden ratio."

"The temperament is completely different."

"Not only elegant, but also young and vibrant, as if shedding the burden of heavy winter clothes, making the whole person lighter."

Details.

It was precisely these seemingly inconspicuous and unimportant details that formed a temperament, a feeling, a shock, and finally, came together on Anson.

Chemical reaction, boom!

From color to cut, from design to combination, everything, after Anson put it on, completed the final piece of the puzzle.

Shock, was thus born.

Countless thoughts surged through their minds, including praise and profanity, difficult to distinguish for a moment.

The first reaction was to fall into confusion and shock, to the point of losing the ability to speak and the ability to think.

The red carpet at the entrance of the Hollywood Hilton Hotel thus fell into a silence.

Complete silence.

Not a single sound, from extreme noise, extreme heat, extreme restlessness to complete silence.

The instant, huge contrast became the most incredible and eye-catching scene at the 60th Golden Globe Awards.

No one was an exception.

No one!