Moseley, Rachel. "She's Everybody's Dream Girl." The Observer online edition. March 7, 2004

Moseley, who is somewhat of a scholar on Hepburn and her effect on popular culture, discusses the actress’ resonance with “ordinary women,” an obsession that began in the 1950s and continues strongly to this day. The way that films can influence all aspects of one’s life is evident with the female response to Hepburn, particularly the interviews Moseley quotes with such ordinary women. Hepburn is described as being “modern because she was different, but still obtainable.” In the post-war period, she represented a historically specific time period: she was feminine liberation and modernity, all while remaining lady-like and suitable to the more containing “standards” of the day. Hepburn’s appearance in films was simply more possible than many other stars of the period. Even Givenchy’s designs, beginning with Sabrina, were deceitfully simple.

Though Moseley admits that Hepburn has never been historically associated with women’s liberation movements, her trademark style was marked with low-maintenance flair such as flat shoes and short haircuts, which appealed strongly to busy women in the mid 20th-century. Even qualities that would seem to inspire a backlash among women, such as her extraordinarily thin frame, were just seen as “part” of her, rather than something to be directly imitated. The goal was simply the recreation of elegance, which Hepburn exuded effortlessly throughout her career.

Collins' Vanity Fair article is essentially a retrospective of the storied relationship between Audrey Hepburn and the French designer Hubert de Givenchy, as inspired by the 1995 remake of Sabrina and the designer's announcement of his retirement. Beginning with the 1954 film Sabrina, Hepburn and Givenchy maintained a friendship and fashion partnership that would last until the actress' death in 1993. During production of the film, director Billy Wilder and star Hepburn decided that it would be most appropriate for Sabrina's clothing to be the product of a legitimate Paris designer, as the formerly dowdy character returns to Long Island after spending time at cooking school in that city. The up-and-coming designer Hubert de Givenchy was chosen, and Hepburn approached him to arrange fittings. After a case of mistaken identity (he believed that Katherine Hepburn would be wearing his clothing), Givenchy let the production borrow three pieces: a gray suit, a luxurious black and white ball gown, and a tasteful, boat-necked black cocktail dress.

It was arguably the fashion in Sabrina that made the film so wildly successful and influential; Hepburn was transformed into a different woman in Givenchy's clothing. Though Collins does not explore the relationship between film and fashion in much depth, her article is a good introduction to the power of the relationship between designer and muse, with an especially strong focus on Sabrina. Quoting many of the parties involved in the film, there is the sense that they were rendered awestruck by this relationship between Givenchy and Hepburn. The public agreed, as Givenchy's designs and Hepburn's image became inextricably attached for decades, and both Collins and the designer himself make note of how Hepburn's style has retained fans and audience even moreso than her movies in many cases.