As a New York nobody in her early twenties, trapped in a retail job she despised, Patti Smith was a beatnik ballerina in a black turtleneck. She has a knack for devouring and interpreting references, but always manages to look distinctly herself. She cobbled together the femininity of Nouvelle Vague heroines Jeanne Moreau and Anna Karina with the loose, tailored garb of Bob Dylan, John Lennon and her beloved Arthur Rimbaud. Her style, like her music, was a middle finger to convention, a way of expressing herself in the most honest and visceral way possible. “My style says ‘Look at me, don’t look at me’. It’s ‘I don’t care what you think’.” Smith’s steadfast commitment to her look is what marks her as a true original - completely confident in her skin and with her message. “I’ve been wearing the same clothing, the same look for 40 years. I like high fashion, it’s art. I could go to a thrift store when I was 17 and find a Balenciaga coat and a Dior blouse. But, you know, I don’t require fashion; I can wear rags. But they have to be cool rags.”
