In his previous life, Anson had tried different jobs and positions, coming into contact with all kinds of people, each with different personalities, colors, circumstances, and positions.
He had made mistakes, due to his youth and lack of experience, resulting in incorrect judgments and actions, but those mistakes had all evolved into a part of himself.
As he grew older, encountering the same situations again, his way of dealing with people and his attitude naturally underwent many changes.
The present situation was just like that.
Although Anson couldn't understand the man before him—he didn't have telepathy and couldn't listen to the other's inner voice—he could grasp the main points of his words.
Hedi Slimane.
That should be his name, so he was introducing himself and trying to give Anson some styling advice.
Not everyone likes a stranger appearing before them and gesticulating, including Anson, but Hedi didn't have a conceited, condescending attitude; it was merely a suggestion.
This allowed Anson to calmly and openly accept those suggestions, even exploring them.
Anson thought, this Hedi is a special guy.
"Anson Wood."
Returning the courtesy, Anson generously extended his right hand.
Hedi paused slightly, looked up at Anson, hesitated for a moment, and then shook Anson's right hand, but the words he spoke were full of confusion.
"I know you."
Anson: ? ? ?
Although the broadcast of "Friends" last week had garnered a lot of attention, Anson didn't think his name was already widely known, so what was going on?
Wait, could it be a paparazzi?
Thoughts surged in his mind, but before Anson could let his imagination run wild, a familiar voice called out from the side.
"Hedi!"
"When did you arrive? You didn't even call me to let me know."
Darren appeared.
Smiling, relaxed, and seemingly very familiar with Hedi, he didn't approach or shake hands but maintained a distance.
"Hedi, this is Anson. It seems you guys have already met. So, what do you think? Do you have any styling advice?"
"You're the professional; we'll listen to you."
"Anson also has his own ideas about fashion. From my perspective, it's indeed pleasing to the eye. You should have seen him when he appeared in that outfit today, ha, it caused a sensation; but the upcoming occasion is a bit sensitive, so I think professional advice is still very important."
With his arrival, the atmosphere became lively.
But whether it was Anson's imagination or not, he felt that Hedi had retreated back into his shell, maintaining a smile, politeness, and distance—
No, creating distance.
The scene was a bit amusing.
Seeing that Hedi wasn't going to speak, Anson looked at Darren and took the initiative to ask, "Uncle Darren, is this your friend?"
Darren patted his head, "My mistake. Anson, this is Hedi Slimane, currently the creative director of Saint Laurent. He personally designed the groom's tuxedo for this wedding of the century."
Wedding of the century?
How… fascinating.
Does Hedi know?
So the nameless man wasn't nameless; Saint Laurent? So it's the luxury brand Yves Saint Laurent (YSL)? And he's the creative director?
Did that matter require such a grand gesture?
Darren's expression didn't change at all, as if he was completely unaware of the convoluted connection, "Hedi and I have met privately a few times, and he's provided our crew with a lot of fashion advice and pairings, so I thought, maybe you could use some professional advice."
A smile flashed in Anson's eyes as he looked at Darren meaningfully.
Anson had been prepared to speak, cooperating with Darren to complete this double act, but he didn't expect Hedi to interrupt the conversation rather abruptly.
"He's doing great."
Hedi's words caused all eyes to turn to him; he seemed a little restrained.
"I mean, he has his own style, his own insights, he knows what suits him; and he has very good features, I think he can try different styles. I don't think he needs my help."
Anson smiled—
Now, all those strange things could be explained.
He held up the pants in his hand, "I think you've been a great help, I'll try them on."
Hedi didn't smile, looking Anson up and down again, "I know you like a loose and comfortable style, which suits you very well, giving off a Mediterranean vacation vibe of nonchalance and sexiness, but occasionally you can try some sharp styles."
Anson slightly raised his chin, undeniably, he did tend to prefer more casual and light outfits, "How sharp?"
A double entendre.
Anson joked.
Darren didn't react, but Hedi chuckled, "Not to the point of cutting your finger, just more capable, more fitted; your brow bone and nasal structure are very good, you can show different temperaments."
"Proportion, lines. That's my fashion philosophy."
"Regarding proportion, you're already doing very well yourself, that French tuck is the finishing touch."
Following Hedi's gaze, Anson lowered his head to glance at his T-shirt—
The hem of the T-shirt was slightly tucked into his jeans.
Anson suddenly understood, "So that's the French tuck."
Hedi lightly shrugged, affirming, "The detail of the French tuck, firstly, adds a casual and relaxed vibe, preventing it from appearing too rigid; secondly, it improves the proportion, avoiding the creation of a short, stumpy effect due to the top being too long."
"People often don't pay attention to such details, but in fact, such details are precisely the key to the visual effect."
"And lines."
"I think your look could use some lines."
Anson was about to speak.
But this time, Hedi noticed Anson's gaze landing on the clothes in his hand, not giving Anson a chance to speak, and quickly explained, "Not this time."
"Darren said that this time doesn't need to be too formal, you need some relaxation. So, I…"
The words that followed automatically disappeared.
"But next time, maybe next time we can try it. I have some ideas."
Involuntarily, Hedi looked Anson up and down again, revealing a thoughtful expression.
"I have some inspiration, I think we can try it."
These words had obviously entered self-talk mode again, not expecting a response.
Darren seized the opportunity, "Maybe, next time Anson accepts a magazine interview, we can invite you to be in charge of the styling."
Hedi looked up, "Me? No, they can't afford my fees, unless it's 'Vogue'."
He actually… so simply and neatly rejected Darren's proposal, as expected, his social attribute was zero. Darren had only mentioned it casually, but now that Hedi seriously refused, the atmosphere suddenly became awkward.
Hedi, however, was completely unaware, "But if he's interested, he can come to Saint Laurent, I can pick out some pairings and some designs for him."
Professional. Focused. Dedicated.
Perhaps he lacked social skills, unknowingly offending others, but without a doubt, he had his own advantages.
Darren didn't mind, instead laughing and turning to look at Anson, lightly shrugging, "Sorry, kid, at least I tried."
