Design is about point of view, and there should be some sort of

Host:
The studio smelled faintly of fabric, coffee, and light — the scent of creation. Bolts of silk, linen, and organza leaned against one wall, like a chorus of color waiting to be called upon. A single mannequin stood near the window, draped in a half-finished gown — its lines deliberate, its flow poetic.

Outside, the city pulsed — taxis, horns, the rhythm of ambition. Inside, the air was quiet except for the soft hum of a sewing machine and the faint hiss of steam from an iron. Jack stood by the table, flipping through sketches, each one crisp, elegant, alive with attitude. Jeeny leaned against the windowsill, arms folded, her eyes tracing the drape of the gown with both admiration and curiosity.

Jeeny: [gently] “Vera Wang once said, ‘Design is about point of view, and there should be some sort of woman or lifestyle or attitude in one's head as a designer. So my being able to reach the masses was something that meant a great deal to me — especially for women who could never wear Vera Wang.’”

Jack: [glancing up from the sketches] “She understood something most designers forget — that design isn’t just about luxury. It’s about empathy. About giving form to someone’s self-worth.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. She wasn’t designing just clothes. She was designing confidence.”

Host:
The sunlight slanted through the window, catching dust motes in midair — small, shimmering witnesses to the conversation. The gown on the mannequin glowed faintly, as if listening.

Jack: “You know, that line — ‘women who could never wear Vera Wang’ — that’s humility disguised as ambition. She wanted her art to mean something beyond exclusivity.”

Jeeny: “Because beauty locked behind a price tag is just privilege. But beauty that reaches people — that’s humanity.”

Jack: [smiling faintly] “You sound like her.”

Jeeny: [with a quiet laugh] “Maybe because I understand her. For women, design has never been just about aesthetics — it’s survival. It’s how we say, I exist. I matter. I choose how I am seen.”

Host:
The machine clicked off. The silence that followed felt warm, intentional. Jack set the sketches aside and turned toward Jeeny, his expression thoughtful.

Jack: “You think that’s why Wang’s work resonates? Because it’s less about fabric and more about identity?”

Jeeny: “Absolutely. Every line, every fold, every choice of texture — it all speaks of the woman she imagines. And that woman isn’t a fantasy. She’s real. She’s someone trying to belong to her own reflection.”

Jack: “Design as autobiography, then.”

Jeeny: “And empathy as the muse.”

Host:
The clock ticked softly in the corner — not measuring time, but rhythm. The city outside kept breathing, but slower now, as if in sync with their pace.

Jack: “You know, Wang’s success is interesting. She was never chasing trends. She was chasing emotion. The way fabric falls when someone exhales. The way a woman stands when she feels like herself.”

Jeeny: [nodding] “That’s what she meant by point of view. You can’t design without one — without a story. And her story has always been about accessibility through grace.”

Jack: “That’s a rare kind of rebellion — bringing high art down to earth without losing its soul.”

Jeeny: “Because true elegance isn’t exclusion. It’s inclusion that doesn’t need to shout.”

Host:
The evening light began to soften, turning the walls amber. Jeeny walked toward the gown, running her fingers lightly along the hemline. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent.

Jeeny: “You know, what I love about this quote is that it acknowledges responsibility. That art, especially fashion, isn’t just about expression — it’s about connection.”

Jack: “But most of the world doesn’t see it that way. They see fashion as vanity.”

Jeeny: “That’s because they mistake surface for substance. But Vera knew the two could coexist — if the surface reflected something honest.”

Jack: “Like a mirror that tells the truth but still flatters you.”

Jeeny: [smiling] “Exactly. That’s what design should do — reveal, not disguise.”

Host:
The mannequin’s shadow stretched across the floor, long and graceful. The room felt like a cathedral of fabric and feeling.

Jack: “So design, in her view, isn’t just commerce. It’s compassion. A dialogue between creator and wearer.”

Jeeny: “Yes. And that dialogue asks the same question art has asked forever: Who are you trying to become?”

Jack: “And the right design — the right point of view — lets you answer it honestly.”

Jeeny: “That’s why her reaching the masses mattered. It wasn’t about selling dresses. It was about giving women permission to feel extraordinary in the ordinary.”

Jack: [softly] “To wear dignity like silk.”

Jeeny: “And self-love like light.”

Host:
The streetlights flickered on outside. The city’s pulse grew softer, more melodic. Inside, the two stood quietly, the hum of creation still thick in the air.

Jack: “You think that’s what design really is, then? Not fabric, not form — but faith?”

Jeeny: [after a moment] “Yes. Faith in beauty. Faith that someone, somewhere, will see themselves not as they are, but as they could be.”

Jack: “That’s the kind of art that outlives fashion.”

Jeeny: [nodding] “And that’s the kind Vera Wang will be remembered for — not just what she made, but what she made possible.”

Host:
The camera would pull back — the studio bathed in the glow of twilight, the gown now luminous against the fading light. Jack and Jeeny stood together, two observers of grace, surrounded by sketches and silence and the echo of a woman’s vision that reached far beyond fabric.

And as the scene dimmed into softness, Vera Wang’s words would remain — not as a statement about clothing, but about empathy, artistry, and purpose:

Design is a point of view —
but it is also a promise.
A promise to imagine the woman,
the life, the attitude behind the garment.
True design does not exclude;
it invites.
It tells the unseen they belong in beauty too.
For fashion, at its finest,
is not about luxury —
it is about liberation:
the moment a woman looks in the mirror,
and finally sees herself,
beautiful,
worthy,
and whole.