“It’s not women’s work”
is something females historically might have heard when they attempted to
leave the domestic tranquility of the hearth, and go in for the more manual
labors usually reserved for menfolk. However during World War II Rosie the
Riveter symbolized how women could turn their delicate porcelain hands to
anything if given the opportunity: shipbuilding, welding, manufacturing
munitions. Smiling and flexing her muscles, dressed in overalls with her
sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back in a scarf, Rosie embodied the
positive, morale boosting vastness of female capability and aspiration.
Fast forward seventy years, and forget ships, we don’t even get tasked with
creating fancy frocks.
The two thrones of Paris fashion, Lanvin and Dior, so abruptly vacated
last month and currently being dusted off for the next occupants, will
almost certainly not host female derrieres. I discuss this with a class of
15 opinionated fashion students from Kent State of whom only 1 is male. The
girls get quite riled up. I jokingly tell them to go and do something about
it–– but in the meantime not to forget their projects are due next week. I
think of it again later: only 2 of my Associates level class of 12 are
male. I spend an afternoon reviewing the thesis collections of a group of
10 Parsons’ seniors; only 2 of them are male.
However since the early days of Galliano and McQueen in Paris, through
the same revolving doors have marched Michael Kors, Olivier Theyskens, Marc
Jacobs, Roberto Menichetti, Lars Nilsson, Tom Ford, Stefano Pilati, Alber
Elbaz, Peter Copping, Hedi Slimane, Riccardo Tisci, Alexander Wang, Marco
Zanini, Olivier Rousteing, JW Anderson, Jeremy Scott, Alessandro Michele,
Christopher Kane, Arthur Arbesser, Demna Gvasalia,… There have only been
male designers’ names in the hat for the top jobs. When it comes to the
serious business of relaunching historic womenswear houses, it is clearly
not women’s work. The money’s on the men.
There’s Phoebe Philo, of course. The Kathryn Bigelow of the situation,
she is the equivalent of the only female film director ever to win an
Academy Award, in charge at Celine and previously Chloe, she has sealed her
position as one of the leading directors of our industry. But there’s not a
second Philo to be seen. No one even comes close. She’s the token female.
Rosie symbolized women who were called upon when men went to battle, now
women battle simply to be called upon. It is the glass ceiling scenario
that frustrates those working in law and finance and so many other
professions. But somehow it wouldn’t be quite so egregious if we were
talking about something that historically flew in the face of what might
have been considered “women’s work.” But we’re referring to creating
clothes, clothes for women to wear; essentially, dressing ourselves.
Tom Ford, too busy casting his next Hollywood screenplay perhaps to
intellectualize it, explained the predominance of male designers thus: “I
think we are more objective. We don’t come with the baggage of hating
certain parts of our bodies.”
Oh Tom. The Botox means I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.
I daren’t count how many fittings conducted by male designers I’ve been
in where the designer has desperately tried to avoid the merest suggestion
of the female form lurking beneath his plucking fingers and that sliver of
crepe de chîne. New previously uncharted territories of the female body are
discovered to scrutinize and disparage; areas we never knew were up for
discussion. The backs of knees?
My career experience alone makes clear to me that if we put more females
in charge of how women look, it would inspire in womankind a more positive
body image. Simple as that.
Elsewhere in the fashion industry, women wield almighty power. There are
the editors whose personal recommendations and advertising budgets can make
or break a designer’s future: the Alpha of them all, Anna Wintour of U.S.
Vogue, Carla Sozzani of Vogue Italia, Alexandra Shulman of British Vogue
and Emmanuelle Alt of Vogue Paris. Shelley Fox and Fiona Dieffenbacher are
respectively directors of the MFA and BFA fashion design programs at
Parsons, and the late Louise Wilson of Central St Martins was a conduit
conveying the crème de la crème of British graduates into the major
international houses.
However, history repeats itself when it comes to the plum creative
roles; women still fare better as sidekicks and muses. Just as Picasso had
Marie Therese Walter, Nicholas Ghesquière has Marie Amelié Sauvé; Auguste
Rodin had Camille Claudel as Alexander McQueen had Annabelle Neilson; Man
Ray had Kiki de Montparnasse as John Galliano has Vanessa Bellanger… Jeff
Koons had La Cicciolina as Riccardo Tisci has Kim Kardashian.
Sarah Burton successfully heads the house of McQueen without its
namesake but there seems to be silent acknowledgement that she had paid her
dues. Visible at the designer’s right hand in every photo ever taken of
McQueen at work, she was tried and tested, therefore a shoo-in to take over
after his death. Similarly, Maria Grazia Chiuri is doing an impressive job
as Creative Director of Valentino, that most feminine of maisons, a step up
in responsibility from her previous role of Accessory designer for the
house, but she is partnered with Pierpaolo Piccioli so the ubiquitous Y
chromosome is in place all the same.
Women worldwide were sorry to see Alber Elbaz leave Lanvin because his
vision struck a chord with so many of us. Yet when he spoke recently at the
32nd annual Night of Stars in New York, just a few days before his
announced departure, he said this: “We designers, we started as couturiers,
with dreams, with intuition, with feeling, with thought. What do women
want? What do women need? What can I do for a woman to make her life better
and easier? How can I make a woman more beautiful?”
While the sentiment is noble at first, it’s bothersome too. He sounds a
little like an artisanal dollmaker. Women are well-equipped, contrary to
what Mr Ford, Mr Elbaz and the suited elect at Kering and LVMH might
believe, to beautify themselves. Oh, granted, we can beat ourselves up too
but we pour that into the creative process. We can be our own brand
ambassadors. We’re sensitive to that magic that’s built into the cut of
clothing that can make our legs longer, our line graceful, our butts
perkier, our necks swan-like, our eyes sparkle, our beauty more alluring.
We come already programmed “with dreams, with intuition, with feeling, with
thought.” We have a long relationship with clothing the female form. We can
create our own fantasies. Furthermore I believe we’d make a damn sight
better job of it than some of the men currently celebrated for tricking us
out.
The student population in the nation’s fashion schools is over 70
percent female. Of the 54 CFDA+ 2015 Design Graduates, an exclusive list
released two weeks ago which highlights the year’s top graduates in over 20
countries, two thirds are female.
Yet fallen on the sword of the modern industry are Jil Sander, Ann
Demeulemeester, Martine Sitbon, Donna Karan, designers that female students
could look up to and identify with. They were designers with unique visions
who understood how to dress women and carved their niche in a tough
industry. They were pioneers in their own individual ways.
As the speculation grows about who will fill the Dior and Lanvin posts,
there is some mention, although scant, of Simone Rocha and Iris Van Herpen.
But they are lost in the whirl of the same male names that circulate,
blowing the girls further and further out of the running. We will no doubt
see more swapping out of one good fellow for another in the old boys club
of luxury womenswear. At Lanvin, there is even talk of putting the current
menswear designer, Lucas Ossendrijver in charge of womenswear.
Anything rather than hire a woman.
By contributing guest editor Jackie Mallon, who is on the teaching
faculty of several NYC fashion programmes and is the author of Silk for the
Feed Dogs, a novel set in the international fashion industry.