Did you try styling with friends before Vogue?
No, but I was really into clothes. I was really experimental with the way I looked, I loved dressing up and made a lot of my own clothes. That’s where I got the feeling that I should be a designer, because I’d go and buy remnants of fabric from the fabric shop where I grew up in Exeter and make a pair of trousers or a top.
Do you think you learn styling, or is it something natural?
I actually really believe that there’s something instinctive in you, it’s the way you’re wired. I think it’s something about how you see the world and absorb information. I’m not obsessed with fashion in the way some people are where they will go, “Oh my God, look at the fabric, the colour.” There are people who obsess about clothes as a garment. I always saw clothes as the tools of my trade. They made my dreams come true. If I saw a jacket I’d think, “Oh my God, I’d love to shoot that. With a girl with no hair and make up, I want it to look poor and sort of disheveled.” I would look at clothes and think of an image or picture.
“I’ve learned over the years that when you’ve got this idea in your head, you have to fight to do it with the photographer who can realise that dream. If you pick the wrong photographer, you’ll never, ever get near the picture that you want. “
How much control did you have on photoshoots when you were working with photographers?
You have the odd ones where it doesn’t work, always. Essentially, I’ve learned over the years that when you’ve got this idea in your head, you have to fight to do it with the photographer who can realise that dream. If you pick the wrong photographer, you’ll never, ever get near the picture that you want. The moment you start to try and persuade a photographer to do something they aren’t thinking, it’ll never happen. Then nothing gels. The hair, make up, the model doesn’t work. It doesn’t come together. I think you become more experienced in knowing what to do. I’d know what I’d want something to look like and I’d know who would help me get there. I always work with photographers.
When I first worked at Vogue, I was assistant to Sarajane Hoare. I learned so much from her. I also learned some of the things that she did wrong. Sometimes she was really abrasive with others, she could get their backs up, and she almost became quite unpopular. People would try and do things to not help her – the job would be twice as hard because she’d make it harder just from the way she was.
In a way, I adapted to the complete opposite. If you give everybody the opportunity to have their input, to make something happen, to own something in the pictures – at the same time as them doing something that you want them to do – that itself is a technique. It’s not being greedy with the idea, it’s about giving the idea away. If you give an idea to a hairdresser to help them come to the conclusion of a style that you want them to do, it can be their idea, I don’t need to own the idea. At the end of the day the thrill in my life is to see a picture come to life in front of me. Of course, there are times where you find something disappointing, it lets you down. You wonder what you did wrong – “I had the wrong shoes, I should have had different shoes, all the bloody shoes are wrong!” It can be any one thing that makes it work or not.
“At Vogue I always used to say that I felt they had gotten the wrong person, that they were going to tap me on the shoulder one day and say they’d made a terrible mistake.”
Do you think there are qualities other than talent and taste that you need to succeed?
I really enjoyed working with my generation. It was always more challenging when you were new, young and not very experienced to have to work with the very experienced. That was always the hard thing, but you always learned loads of things from those people as well. I suppose I was literally a tea bag – I absorbed everything. I wanted to know everything, I was curious about everything. I realised I hadn’t come from a fashion background or fashion family. I hadn’t come with any skills from my upbringing whatsoever to help tailor me to this industry. I think my naivety in a way was my strength. I had such preconceived ideas about it. I had no one telling me what it was like or how it was done. Every day was a new adventure. For me that was a really important place to be. I think now information is so available that you’re judged in the wrong way. It’s like anything – naivety makes something pure, original and different.
At Vogue I always used to say that I felt they had gotten the wrong person, that they were going to tap me on the shoulder one day and say they’d made a terrible mistake. I always felt as though I wasn’t deserving of it and it made me work incredibly hard because it was a dream come true.
When I first came to London at Saint Martins, I had a flat in Stoke Newington, a horrible, grim flat as we all would have when starting out as students. Opposite, there was a newsagents with a sign on the side of this building with an advert for Vogue cigarettes. We used to sit on this roof terrace and I’d say, “Do you think I could ever ever, ever work at Vogue magazine?” And my flatmate would go, “Stop it! Don’t be so stupid.”
Was it hard to manage family and finance?
I met my husband when I was at art college in Somerset. He was doing a graphics course while I did a fashion course. When I came to London, we met at a party and have been with each other ever since. We were nineteen when we met. It’s really hard to pin people down now. It’s hard to have a relationship. There is so much strange communication that goes on between text messaging and email, people find it hard to talk to each other now because of the technology. I don’t know if it’s the industry that makes it more difficult.
There are people who have sacrificed, or as I say, the people who forgot to fall in love. They become so obsessed with the world they were working in. I think for us the horror is still to come. When you read on Anna Dello Russo’s website that she lives in Milan with her dog, it’s scary.
The fashion industry will always absorb those types of people, the creative thinkers who do see the world in a slightly different way. For me, with my family and life outside, I don’t think like a fashion editor when I go home in the evening. I think like a fashion editor when I’m working but I don’t live it. I like shopping, I like cooking, I like travelling, I read cookbooks in my spare time. I don’t live and breathe fashion all of the time. I love it, but I would never want it to be my whole life. I certainly wouldn’t want it to be the only thing that defined me. I think that’s the mistake, to allow a job to define you as a person. You should be the person you are and do the job that you love.
Have you caught yourself envying designers?
Do you know, I have never envied a designer. Never wanted to be a designer. But I have envied what they produce. I look at what they produce and I respect it. I applaud it and love it but I never felt that being the designer is where my heart would be. I like the finished product.
On NEWGEN designers: “If we’re not helping them build a business and to become successful, other than putting on a good show, I don’t feel like we’re supporting them in the right way.”
Do you compare yourself to others in your field? For example, Grace Coddington at US Vogue would have a similar trajectory.
It’s funny, I never have actually. I think she’s incredible, and of course she has influenced me. Her sensibility is so instinctive and intuitive. I understand every element of what she does in a way. I’m actually jealous. You see something and you think, “I wish I’d done that.”
I think in a way that’s how I look at shoots in magazines. I like to be jealous, I like to see something and wish I had done it. I like seeing what other people do. Do I compare myself to anyone? No. I don’t think you should. I respect everybody and what they do, I don’t paw through magazines and point out if something is awful or rubbish – I know how hard it is to get to where we are.
How did Saint Martins help you develop your way of working?
I think Saint Martins is somewhere that the full and rounded education is actually phenomenal. It is important to instill this in you as a student: to find the evidence, be inquisitive and dig deep, whether it’s historical, musical or art references. You were always expected to think far, deep, and wide. I think that was a great education for me which really switched all of my switches on. I have never, ever not used it for my starting point in my work. Saint Martins really tuned me in to thinking like that, to be able to think and look at clothes in a new way, not to just take them on their commercial stand. It was always to look deeper. I used to love looking at collections on the catwalk and trying to work out what the mood board looked like in the studio before they started designing. It’s finding the reference and the starting point, the trigger that made the designer think that way.
When you dropped out, were you sure about what you were doing?
I was really worried. Obviously, to get to Saint Martins was my dream come true. My tutors were all really against me leaving – they all wanted me to stay and complete the course. You know, yeah, I wanted to finish my course, I wanted to enjoy my time at Saint Martins, but I knew that the reality was that if I didn’t take this job, it didn’t matter if it was a first-class bloody honours degree, I would still want that job. It would be my starting point to get to where I want to be, but that job wouldn’t be there after graduation. That’s really half the problem, I had to do it if I wanted to learn from the experience of being on a magazine. I had to take the chance. I think I knew so clearly that it was where I wanted to be: at Vogue.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been the same if it were any other magazine. In front of me were my dream choices, Saint Martins School of Art and Vogue. It was really difficult, but I have no regrets. I regret not getting my degree, but instead I had the opportunity to work at Vogue. I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if I hadn’t had taken that chance.
“I think the expectation of British fashion to keep on producing Christopher Kanes every single year is completely stupid.”
What do you think are the best qualities to have to be at Vogue?
If you are going in on a very junior level straight from college, like I did, there was so much I didn’t know. I remember the first thing they said to me was, “Call Manolo and get some brown courts in a size six.” I was thinking, “What is Manolo?” It was more a case of what you didn’t know.