By Haleema SS

In a “op-doc” for The New York Times, ex-member of The Black Eyed Peas Kim Hill ever so gracefully explains her journey in the epic music group. Not to mention stylishly too. Hill takes us on a path of her experiences in The Black Eyed Peas, how the underground Los Angeles hip-hop crew rose to stardom. As Hill finds her own voice, she shares pictures of a young Hill and the outfits she wore subliminally present the world of stories behind clothes.
As the mini documentary begins, it is hard to miss Hill as the camera is zoomed in onto her face. Fluttery eyelashes and a bright purple pout, Hill exudes confidence. And I cannot forget her gold bohemian earrings which only implied a story of a cheerful spirit is being spoken.
Hill begins with telling us about her travelling to the deep (note she places an emphasis on ‘deep’) valley of Los Angeles to take headshots. She takes a bus at four o’clock in the morning for these pictures and I must say they are worth it. Glossy yet simplistic, the headshots revealed raw emotions of a young woman reaching for the stars. Rather than the usual over-forced picturesque image we see today. It is important to note of the three headshots shown, in all of them Hill wore minimal makeup. We could see her features and expressions clearly. In one of the pictures, she wears a black fishnet top, an oversized leather jacket and what looks like sliver spiral-shaped earrings. Truly the epitome of 90s cool.
Along comes the picture of Hill performing at a BMI showcase, she wears a Gucci bucket hat paired with a retro t-shirt and a heavy wrist watch. What I love about this outfit is how the bucket hat symbolises Hill’s cool and carefree style. Today, the brand Gucci is imprinted everywhere but out of conformity rather than clarity. This image of Hill singing into the microphone as her curls rested under her hat which happens to be a high-street brand delicately narrates the art of style. How it is personal (something which today has been lost to the subjectivity of social media, but this is another story in itself).
A mocha-brown knit jumper with a fur colour, dark blue slim-fit jeans which were cuffed at the bottom, leather-maroon square-toe boots and endless sliver rings. The outfit worn for the Soul Train performance was incredibly chic to say the least. Yet, Hill’s hair which was in two pony tails with a few strands left framing her face added a casual undertone to the stylish outfit.
The story becomes quite dark as Hill reveals the sinister side of the music industry. We learn what you wear narrates a story, whether you are conscious of the plotline or not. Hill explains how her sexuality was beginning to be objectified at an executive level. She was asked to “grind on will.i.am in a bathing suit” and also with the many pressures placed on the freedom of her voice, Hill questioned her place in the group. She wrote a letter to management stating “nope” to the burdens of their expectations. Though Hill quit and became independent, she makes it clear she withholds no grudges against the successful group as she believes “they deserve it”.
In the sweet moments of the story’s ending, Hill gladly explains she was there for the non-commercialised side of hip-hop. And as she goes through her memory machine of tapes, Hill wears fiery-red skinny jeans and a dark-grey t-shirt. Her hair is sleeked back into a bun. This last outfit is a crossroad between relaxed yet refined, just like Hill’s music career. She remains herself which has been and continues to be projected through her choices of clothes.
As Hill declaratively states “I have my happy”, she graciously voices an important lesson for us all. Success is self-preservation. It is the art of expressing ourselves in the honesty of our choices.
Watch the op-doc here