Journey's Essence
There exists a curious paradox in the pursuit of dreams: whilst we race towards destinations, it is the path itself that shapes us. The moments of transformation rarely announce themselves with fanfare; rather, they accumulate quietly in the choices we make, the courage we summon, and the grace with which we navigate uncertainty. Talar Artinian, Founder of Be a Starlette, Fashion Editor, and currently PR and VIC Clienteling, has traversed continents and careers to discover this truth. From the war-torn streets of Beirut to the glittering World of Fashion, her story illuminates how passion, perseverance, and an unwavering sense of self can transform not merely a wardrobe, but an entire life.
My earliest memories are of standing before my mother's wardrobe, drowning in dresses far too large for my small frame, yet feeling utterly magnificent. I would emerge draped in silk and accessories, demanding admiration from anyone within earshot. Getting attention through fashion was never a choice; it was simply who I was, even at an age when most children show little interest in such matters. My grandmother, my father's mother, lived to ninety-nine, and until her final days, she maintained her impeccable presentation. I suspect I inherited this devotion to fashion and beauty from her, though the intervening generation somehow missed the transmission entirely.
The war interrupted everything. When we fled Lebanon for France with nothing, luxury became an impossible dream. I remember standing transfixed before a simple black and white polka-dot set in a shop. I dared not ask my mother to buy it; I understood instinctively that such requests caused her pain when she couldn't fulfil them. But she noticed me staring, and when she said we would get it, tears filled my eyes. That set has survived decades now. My daughters have worn it, and I keep it still, preserved not for its monetary value but for the memory of impossible joy it represents. Today, when I see an exquisite bag or a remarkable diamond, I feel that same flutter of longing, though the context has changed entirely.
Returning to Lebanon after our year in France, I became the girl who studied the mothers collecting their daughters from school. Whilst my parents remained refreshingly unconcerned with fashion, focusing instead on art, I took careful notes of every well-dressed woman I encountered. I observed the mothers arriving from work, absorbing details of their styling, their confidence, their polish. I told myself that one day, I would become like them. Yet when it came time to choose a university course, I studied finance. Banking was a practical choice for survival.
While working in the Bank, I remember two senior colleagues would visit each morning for coffee. Eventually, they confessed they came to observe my styling, to gather ideas for their own wardrobes. Even within the confines of corporate suiting, I found ways to express myself through accessories and unexpected details. People seemed to look to me for inspiration, though I never saw fashion as a potential source of income. It remained purely a passion, something I did for myself rather than for profit or recognition.
After I met the love of my life, our path led us to Thailand and became home for thirteen years. It was a chapter that was defined by adaptation and motherhood. After having three children, I knew corporate life no longer suited me. I needed something of my own, something that merged my love of fashion with a sustainable business model. Thus, Be a Starlette was born: a studio filled with designer dresses, a space where ordinary women could transform themselves for an afternoon, where teachers and ambassadors' wives alike could experience the thrill of a professional photoshoot in clothes they might never otherwise wear. I travelled extensively to source pieces unavailable in Thailand, building a collection that spoke to the woman I understood intimately, the woman who wanted to feel glamorous but lacked either the means or the occasion to justify such extravagance.
The project opened unexpected doors. The spouses of Bangkok's diplomatic corps commissioned me to photograph all the ambassadors and their partners for an official publication. I began writing the fashion editorial for Expat Magazine, a role I maintained for three and a half years under the Be a Starlette banner. We organised events that blended fashion with community, panel discussions that created space for women to connect beyond superficial concerns. It was fulfilling work, yet I sensed it was a preparation for something larger, something I couldn't yet articulate.
Dubai arrived like a revelation. I moved here in summer 2021, a new arrival from the Far East with little understanding of what awaited me. Within weeks, I found myself beneath the Burj Khalifa at a Giorgio Armani fashion show, an outdoor extravaganza that struck me as one of the most beautiful presentations I had ever witnessed. Mr Armani himself walked the runway, followed by an intimate after-party featuring Chris Martin. My second major event was a Chanel cruise show, a meticulous replica that transported guests into the brand's universe. These were my introduction to Dubai, and I thought: if this is how the city welcomes newcomers, perhaps I have finally found home.
What strikes me most about Dubai is its fundamental openness. You need only meet one or two people to find yourself embraced by entire social circles. The city functions as an international hub where business mingles seamlessly with pleasure, where security and quality of life create conditions for people to focus entirely on work and enjoyment. Everyone here seems happy, or at least content, working hard but also living well. My experience here reminds me of that video of Cristiano Ronaldo disguised on the street, playing football whilst passersby ignored him entirely. Brilliance without the proper environment goes unrecognized. I was always myself, but Dubai created the conditions for me to flourish, to shine without apology or restraint.
Joining my family's business, Sartoro Fine and High Jewellery, felt like a natural evolution. I manage international public relations and client relations for the GCC region, organising events and ensuring our pieces find their proper audience. Sartoro is not for everyone; it is for the woman who wishes to stand out without shouting, who understands that true luxury complements rather than overwhelms. The designs, particularly our Trilogy collection, allow your skin to show through, creating the impression that diamonds are floating between flesh and light. The jewellery becomes a second skin, elevating even the simplest dress without dominating your presence. It is jewellery made for women.
I am working on something of my own as well, something deeply feminine that represents my character entirely. I cannot rush this; it must emerge organically when the time is right. Meanwhile, I wake each morning as though it were my last day, determined to create at least one good memory and learn at least one new thing, however small. I have trained myself to look at where I was, acknowledge what I have achieved, remember what I still dream of accomplishing, and feel grateful for what is coming.
Every phase of life presents distinct challenges. Childhood survival, the insecurities of one's twenties, the complex demands of motherhood in one's thirties, each decade requires different strengths. Today I embrace challenges with open arms, focusing entirely on solutions rather than dwelling on obstacles. Whatever lies within my control, I address; whatever falls beyond my influence, I release. This mindset transforms challenges from threats into opportunities, from sources of anxiety into puzzles worth solving.
If I could offer advice to my younger self, or to any young woman standing where I once stood, it would be this: believe in yourself completely, not superficially but with profound conviction. Pursue your dreams with patience and dignity. Do not rush. The satisfaction lies in the journey, not merely the destination. The ups and downs, the struggles and breakthroughs, these constitute the actual achievement. Yes, you must reach your goals, but happiness must accompany you along the way. Too many young women today seek shortcuts, achieving surface-level dreams, only to discover that such victories ring hollow. The process itself is the reward, the becoming rather than the arrival.
Beauty, I have come to believe, emanates from happiness. Every woman possesses her own distinct beauty, but it only truly radiates when she feels content, when her energy flows freely. I have seen photographs of myself from difficult periods, and I look diminished, almost unrecognisable. When joy is present, when circumstances align, that internal light transforms everything external. Makeup, clothing and jewellery can enhance, certainly, but they cannot substitute for genuine wellbeing. The essence of beauty is working on yourself to achieve happiness, then allowing everything else to follow naturally.
My professional achievements, followed by my wedding day which was blissful, brought profound satisfaction. The births of my children transcended all other joy. But I have learned not to wait for monumental occasions to feel fulfilled. Every morning offers the possibility of happiness if I choose to recognise it. Any bad news, and I simply refuse to allow it to determine my mood. This is not denial, but rather a deliberate decision about where to invest my emotional energy.
Fashion and style differ significantly. Fashion is trendy, sometimes outrageous, often short-lived. Style is personal, an expression of character made visible through choices about colour, silhouette, attitude. What you wear communicates who you are to everyone you encounter. For me, style means elegant, timeless, decidedly feminine, occasionally playing with sensuality but always maintaining elegance. This reflects my actual personality, my approach to life itself. A woman seeking to project strength might choose bolder pieces; someone embracing playfulness might opt for whimsical details. There is no single correct answer, only authenticity.
I still have difficult days. I am entirely human. When something genuinely painful occurs, I allow myself one or two days to feel everything fully. On the third day, I return to equilibrium. This is not suppression but rather healthy emotional processing, giving grief its due without becoming consumed by it.
For me UAE is the land of opportunities for anyone arriving with good intentions, genuine ambition, and willingness to work hard. The city welcomes you with open arms if you possess these three qualities alongside sound ethics. Everything becomes possible here through the convergence of infrastructure, international connectivity, and a culture that rewards merit rather than pedigree. I am living proof of this promise, a Lebanese Armenian who found her voice by crossing continents, who discovered that home is not necessarily where you begin but where you become most fully yourself.
