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subscribe to style file blog via RSSGiles Deacon Is Feeling Plates And Paper Clips For Pre-Fall
January 13, 2010 12:19 pm
Despite graduating in the starry Central Saint Martins class of 1992—alongside Alexander McQueen, Stella McCartney, and Hussein Chalayan—Giles designer Giles Deacon has long been more of a fashion insider than a marquee name. That may change this year, following a wave of accolades and awards, including the prestigious ANDAM prize, a production deal with Italian manufacturer Castor, and a presenting spot at Florence’s Pitti W tomorrow. Deacon spoke with Style.com about moving his show to Paris (a condition of the ANDAM prize), paper clips, and The Simpsons, and shared with us a few exclusive sketches from the pre-fall 2010 collection he shows tomorrow.
Given that you had your pick of probably dozens of Florentine villas and Renaissance-era great halls, why did you decide to hold your Pitti presentation at a plate factory?
Well, I visited Florence to check out venues, and I toured the palazzos and so on, and of course they’re very beautiful and I was intrigued by the possibilities. But I was shown some more industrial locations, too, and it struck me, as I got off the tourist grid, that it might be more interesting to show people this other side of Florence. Everyone knows the city for its art, and so on, but Florence has a long history as a manufacturing capital, too.
Of course, Florence being Florence, the plate factory, as I put it, is actually the home of Richard Ginori, founded in 1735…
And the place where they make the porcelain for the Vatican. They made Miuccia Prada’s personal china, too. It’s like, the Italian Wedgwood. But the building itself is from the 1930’s; there’s this huge water tower. I loved that it looked like the nuclear plant in The Simpsons.
Your choice of venue seems to speak to one of the signatures of Giles, which is a playful interest in the mundane.
I’m not sure it’s just the mundane…I think what I like to do, and what I think I’m becoming known for, is a willingness to bring things people don’t necessarily think of as “fashion” into a fashion context.
E.g., bugs, which was a motif of the jewelry range you launched for Spring, or thinking back a few seasons, Pac-Man?
Yeah. And honestly, that’s not an ironic impulse. I’m a big fan of Schiaparelli, you know—I love that she found room to include the offbeat in her collections. Miuccia Prada, too, is a hero of mine—she pulls references from all over the place into her collection. My strategy is similar: I try to take the things around us that people don’t quite see, and make them not just visible, but beautiful, hopefully. There’s a quiet subversion in that, certainly, but no irony.
Which brings us back to plates. Are we to expect a porcelain theme from this collection? I’d kind of like to see clothes extrapolating the Hummel figurine.
We’re using plates—lots of plates—in the installation. Like, there’s one setup with a mountain of plates, and the girls kind of coming out of it. But the collection motifs are actually paper clips and spanners. You know, monkey wrenches. We’ve done a giant spanner print, and we’re covering the paper clips in leather and using them as embroidery sequins. And for the Pitti presentation, Stephen Jones has made these amazing hats—wire circles about four feet around, with ultra-lightweight giant paper clips hanging down.
Aside from the “quiet subversion” you mentioned, what do you see as the touchstones of the Giles look?
I don’t think there is a look, per se. I mean, Giles is never about, you know, conjuring some kind of downtown style. I like clothes that have a distinct personality—statement clothes, I guess I’d say. Accessible eccentric. Each garment is unique. The fabrication, the print, the cut.
You’ve worked a long time to become an overnight sensation. But this year seems to be your year: Are you feeling any pressure?
Honestly, no. I just don’t look at things that way. I’ve never been a five-year-plan kind of designer; I’m more interested in what’s in front of me. Which has meant that in some ways, this has been an easier year. Working with Castor, for instance, has entailed accommodating their very firm deadlines for fabric delivery, and so on, and that’s actually been very helpful. And similarly, doing the show in Paris last season was weirdly relaxed, as opposed to showing in London—we just had to get on and do it. It’s like, the pressure to get things done relieves me of the need to think about the pressure.
Are you planning to stay on the Paris calendar?
Yes.
Certainly, though, the buzz around Giles and the deal with Castor and so on must be incredibly validating, no? I mean, you spent years and years in the fashion trenches, watching many of your Saint Martins classmates become stars… Every so often you must stop what you’re doing and throw a punch in the air and yell, “Hell yeah! Finally!”
Well, of course it’s validating. But I was never consumed by that kind of envy. People like Hussein and Alexander, they always knew they wanted their own lines. I felt like I needed to see more of the industry before I could make that kind of claim on it. Work in different cities, experience lots of back rooms.
And what did that teach you?
I mean…everything. Principally: Be nice. I’ve worked in studios that are entirely based on paranoia and fear, and that was really unattractive to me. Putting together a collection is a big team effort. I try to be as un-autocratic as possible.
Does that extend to the office playlist? I know you’re a big music fan.
Yeah, I get shifty whenever I’m somewhere and music’s not playing. Like, on an airplane, when they make you take your headphones off before you land. I can’t bear it. But I’ll listen to just about anything—right now, I’ve got everything from the Kraftwerk remaster to the “Spider Pig” song from The Simpsons Movie on my playlist.
That’s the second time you’ve referenced
God, I’d love to do that.
If you do, I promise I won’t take any credit…
Ha. Well, something to think about. In the meantime, I’ve got a collection to put together.
tags: Giles Deacon
