Documentary Review: London- Invisible Beauty — A Fashion Revolution Etched in Courage
- PARLIAMENT NEWS
- Apr 18
- 4 min read
By Rebeca Riofrio

Yesterday, at the Victoria and Albert Museum, I had the distinct pleasure of attending the screening of Invisible Beauty — a captivating documentary that serves not only as a chronicle of fashion history but as a deeply personal, politically urgent, and emotionally resonant narrative. This powerful film, co-directed by the inimitable Bethann Hardison and Frédéric Tcheng, offers far more than style or spectacle; it is an impassioned meditation on justice, resilience, and the imperative of representation.

Bethann Hardison is not merely the subject of the film — she is its soul. With grace, humour, and fire, she reflects on her extraordinary journey from the segregated streets of 1950s America to the world’s most exclusive runways, and her subsequent transformation into one of the fiercest advocates for racial equality in the fashion industry. As co-director, she curates her own story with a candour and sharpness that both disarm and inspire.
The documentary takes us to the roots of her life — her childhood struggles, the discrimination she endured, and the formative moments that shaped her into the uncompromising woman she is today. She is not driven by vanity or self-celebration, but by a profound sense of duty — a passion for what is right.

During the post-screening Q&A, Hardison expressed something that struck me deeply. She remarked that her activism — her relentless push to make the fashion industry more inclusive — was not just in service to Black communities, but also, in her words, “a service to white folks.” Her goal, she said, was to educate — to illuminate a reality that many had simply never been taught to see. She recalled a childhood visit to South Carolina, a profoundly racist state, where she witnessed the cruel absurdities of segregation: separate water fountains, waiting rooms, and buses — pristine and welcoming for white people, but run-down and degrading for Black people. That memory, she noted, is etched into the social DNA — a chilling reminder that the fight for diversity and inclusion must be both forceful and far-reaching, not only for African-Americans, but also for Latinos, Asians, Indians, and all underrepresented communities.
To my surprise — and disappointment — no UK distributor has yet taken the film on board. It deserves widespread viewership, particularly in a country where conversations around race, beauty, and representation remain ever-relevant. Personally, I felt the documentary could have benefitted from a slightly shorter runtime; at moments, its rhythm looped and lost pace. Nevertheless, these are small quibbles in a work of such importance and richness.
The film is beautifully scored — emotionally evocative and perfectly timed. Its structure interlaces striking archival footage from the 1960s and 1970s with contemporary interviews from those who have stood beside Hardison, or whose careers she directly shaped. Naomi Campbell, Iman, Tyson Beckford, and Zendaya all appear — their reverence for Hardison palpable. One especially moving moment was Naomi Campbell’s on-stage tribute, presenting an award to Hardison in a scene that drew warm applause from the audience.
Interestingly, the project began as a documentary about the fashion industry. But as those around her encouraged her to turn the lens inward, Hardison teamed up with Frédéric Tcheng — the French director acclaimed for Dior and I and Halston. Together, they created something far more intimate and groundbreaking. I had the opportunity to briefly meet Frédéric after the screening. While I found him somewhat dismissive when I tried to engage in conversation, he remained polite. His artistic fingerprints are nonetheless visible throughout the film — in its aesthetic clarity, structural rhythm, and emotional depth.
Among my personal highlights was the section devoted to the legendary Battle of Versailles fashion show — a pivotal moment in fashion history, and one of my all-time favourite stories. Hardison was among the models who walked in that extraordinary event, which pitted American designers against French couturiers in a cultural showdown that forever changed the industry. Its inclusion in the documentary was not only essential but celebratory.
Equally fascinating was the segment on her modelling agency — a space where she discovered and nurtured some of the industry’s biggest names. Her agency was not just a business; it was a movement, an incubator for diverse talent, and a disruptive force in a world that, for too long, was dominated by narrow ideals of beauty.



Invisible Beauty is currently available to stream on Amazon, but I must say that watching it on the big screen, followed by meeting Bethann Hardison in person, was a moment I will always cherish. To witness her speak — wise, witty, bold, and deeply human — is to be reminded that true beauty has always been, and always will be, invisible to those who refuse to see. This film, in its elegant defiance, helps us see — truly and deeply.
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