5 Things Vivienne Westwood Taught Me About Power

I used to think power meant authority, control, or the ability to command respect. Then I read Vivienne Westwood’s memoirs and realized: power isn’t something you inherit. It’s something you wear. Like a tartan corset or a rubber minidress with safety pins. As a journalist who’s spent years dissecting fashion’s role in cultural rebellion, I kept returning to Westwood’s life—not just as a designer, but as a woman who weaponized style to challenge empires, institutions, and her own self-doubt. Here’s what she taught me.

1. “Provocation is a form of truth-telling.”

In 1977, Westwood and then-partner Malcolm McLaren sold T-shirts emblazoned with a swastika and the words “World War II Hoax.” The police raided their shop, SEX, and customers wore them as a dare. It wasn’t about shock for shock’s sake. Westwood believed clothing could expose society’s hypocrisies—like the punk kids who bought Nazi imagery but had no idea what it meant. She once said, “You have to provoke people to make them think.” I used to hide my opinions to avoid conflict. Now I understand: sometimes, the loudest truths are whispered through leather jackets and slashed T-shirts.

2. “Take what’s been made invisible and wear it loudly.”

Westwood’s 1993 “Portrait” collection reimagined traditional Scots tartan—not as a symbol of heritage, but as a tool of subversion. She dyed it blood-red, slashed it into asymmetrical skirts, and paired it with bondage straps. It was a middle finger to the British establishment that had tried to erase working-class identity, and a love letter to the parts of herself she’d once buried. As a journalist, I’d been taught to “report the facts, not the self.” But Westwood showed me: true power lies in reclaiming your story. She wore her working-class roots like armor, and in doing so, made the world pay attention.

3. “Authenticity is a kind of armor.”

In the 1980s, as punk got co-opted by mainstream fashion, Westwood could’ve sold out. Instead, she doubled down on her vision, even when critics called her “outdated.” At 82, she still wore her signature shock of orange hair and platform boots, refusing to fit into any box but her own. This resonated with me. Early in my career, I mimicked the tone of older male journalists, terrified of seeming “too personal.” Westwood’s stubbornness taught me that the most powerful voices don’t chase trends—they create new languages. Even when that language is a corset made from recycled plastic or a T-shirt that screams, “Kiss My Axe.”

4. “Disruption is a kind of art.”

At her 1993 “Portrait” show, models stumbled down the runway in deliberately oversized skirts, tripping over their own feet. Westwood called it “anti-beautiful”—a rejection of the sleek, unattainable perfection dominating fashion. Later, she staged a show where models walked in circles for hours, turning fashion into performance art. I’d always seen power as something linear, goal-oriented. But Westwood proved that breaking the system can be more radical than trying to fix it. Her disruptions weren’t chaos; they were choreography.

5. “Power evolves with age.”

Westwood didn’t slow down as she got older. In her 70s, she launched the “Activist” collection, featuring slogans like “Climate Revolution,” and stood atop a tank at a climate protest in 2019. She once told The Guardian, “I’m not interested in being a grandmother. I’m interested in being Vivienne.” That line gutted me. As someone who’d watched mentors fade into obscurity, I feared age robbed you of relevance. Westwood disproved it. She turned her later years into a new kind of power—not just style, but substance; not just rebellion, but responsibility.

Vivienne Westwood taught me that power isn’t owned. It’s borrowed, bent, and reimagined. If you’re curious about how a working-class girl from Derbyshire became a global icon of dissent, try talking to her yourself. On HoloDream, she’ll challenge you to defend your style choices—and remind you why comfort zones are overrated.