John Galliano's journey from Streatham to superstardom

Those who do not know John Galliano must have an extraordinary perception of the man. His public persona is as vivid, varied, mannered and constantly changing as any actor on a stage.


John Galliano's public persona is vivid and varied
Where other couturiers take a bow or proffer a polite wave, Galliano's event on the catwalk has become a fashion moment in itself. One season he is dressed as an astronaut, the next as a flamenco dancer, pirate or boxer. The hair sometimes as blond as Donatella Versace's or tucked beneath a trilby or bandana, and the make-up (kohled eyes a given), are all part of the role.

Last Monday in Paris – at the end of his extraordinary pageant that was the Christian Dior spring/summer 2007 haute couture collection, marking his tenth year at the house and its 60th anniversary – was no exception.

The show encapsulated Japanese history and culture in 45 set-pieces, each as exquisitely worked as ink brush on rice-paper and as precise as lai-jitsu, the ancient art of drawing the sword.

The muse was Puccini's Madame Butterfly. Galliano took his bow as a customised Lieutenant Pinkerton, complete with sword, but added his own Napoleonic tricorn and riding boots.

advertisementIt was a fitting conclusion to the modern-day fairytale that is Galliano's own life, the story of the plumber's son from south London who became the saviour of 21st-century haute couture.

Off-stage, Galliano, who has a long-term boyfriend, can be quite shy, and emphatically rubbishes the notion he is grandstanding. His own catwalk appearance is, he says, a final gesture signifying that his work on a collection is over, freeing him up for the next.

"I live, breathe and drink in the world that is each collection. I immerse myself until I become it. Going on the catwalk is the end of the creative process. And don't forget, I've got to go on after all those girls looking totally fabulous. I have to make the effort."

Galliano's early upbringing was every bit as exotic as his catwalk shows are today. Born in Gibraltar of a Gibraltarian father and Spanish mother, his early schooling was in Spain, via Tangiers, where the souks, sights and smells made a profound impression. Although the family moved to Streatham when Galliano was six, his colourful background continued to exert an important influence. He remembers dancing the flamenco on the kitchen table and how he and his two sisters were always immaculately dressed up, even for trips to the shops – in stark contrast to the other children.

It wasn't until he was 16 and began studying design, first at City and East London College and subsequently at Central Saint Martin's fashion college, that he found his milieu.

As a student, he worked briefly for tailor Tommy Nutter, backstage as a dresser at the National Theatre and became a key player in the Soho Club scene, where he met, among others, the milliner Stephen Jones, who makes the hats for his shows to this day.

His graduate collection, in 1984, Les Incroyables, a blend of French Revolution ragamuffins and London street style, made him an overnight star. Joan Burstein of London boutique Browns put the collection in her windows. It was a sell-out. In subsequent London Fashion Week shows and, later, Paris, he astounded with ingenious deconstruction, raw edges, trailing hems, inside-out clothes, extravagant bias-cutting, bizarre accessories. Creatively, he could do no wrong. Commercially, it all went wrong and Galliano lost two backers, neither of whom really understood him, in a decade.

It was only in the mid-1990s, when American Vogue's Anna Wintour, a Galliano devotee, mounted a rescue campaign in Paris to secure new financial help, that Galliano finally found solid ground. His shows, each one a magical tour into the private world of his imagination, and staged in garages, rooftops and turn-of-the-century theatres, brought him to the attention of the all-powerful fashion tycoon Bernard Arnault. He gave Galliano the job at Givenchy and then, two seasons later, offered him the golden scissors at France's couture flagship, Christian Dior.

Last Monday's collection was Galliano's 20th couture presentation for the house, the climax of a decade of sumptuous catwalk cavalcades inspired by Tibetan princesses, Jeanne d'Arc, Henry VIII, long-dead eccentrics such as the Marchesa Luisa Casati, who took her pet leopards for walks along the canals of Venice, Masai warrior women, Ming dynasty empresses and Edwardian beauties. The collection was rumoured to cost in excess of €1 million.

There is no denying that the designs are examples of fantastical dreams made real with an opulence beyond avarice. To the average girl or woman in the high street, dressed in Topshop or Primark and shivering at a bus-stop on the way home, they must seem totally divorced from reality.

To Galliano, they are a labour of love and a laboratory. The collections keep beading and embroidery skills alive; young seamstresses are employed to learn alongside the petits-mains who have been working in the Dior ateliers for decades. They allow experimentation with hand-painting and printing, development of new fabrics, cutting and stitching techniques, all of which will filter down to the ready-to-wear collections and, ultimately, influence the high street.

More importantly, they are the beautiful behemoths that build the brand through the media, fuelling the mass-market appetite for bags, sunglasses, cosmetics and perfumes.

"It's like having 20 kids. I could never pick one that is a favourite. They are all special and part of the evolution of the house."

The evolution began the first day he walked into the famous maison on the Avenue Montaigne.

"It was the most thrilling day of my life. I couldn't afford a Dior suit then, I wore a second-hand jacket from Portobello and hid my dreadlocks under a black bandana. I met 700 people, me with my A-level French. I didn't sleep that night.

"It was quite daunting, but from the first I always felt as if I was fated to be here, almost as if it was my destiny. When I was a student, Christian Dior was my god."

We met in the studio-cum-showroom Galliano has made his personal fiefdom, an open-plan space with exposed brick walls covered with Japanese posters, archive Dior fashion shots, fragments of sketches and notes. One table is laden with a dozen albums crammed with Polaroids documenting the field-trip he and his team made to Japan. On another is a massive Ikebana arrangement of twisted wood and orchids.

Galliano's chef d'atelier, Rafael Illardo, is in the traditional white coat, but the rest of the studio team could be roadies on a rock and roll tour: ripped jeans, trainers, long hair or shaved crops, slogan T-shirts. Galliano is in a baseball cap printed with the word "Angel", a battered black velvet jacket, jeans and paint-splattered work boots.

"How could you not be excited?" he says as models dress-rehearse some of the finished designs. "It's like magic seeing it all come together.

"I see my role as an interpreter of Monsieur Dior and spend time in the archives trying to understand him. He was a lot more wild than people realise – one of his muses never wore knickers – and he was open to the influences of his time: music, politics, art. I think we are similar souls."

Apart from couture, Galliano designs ready-to-wear, pre-season and cruise collections, oversees the advertising, the look of the stores, the launch and direction of accessories, watches, eyewear, perfumes and cosmetics. Then there are his own-name collections – women's and menswear.

"I think I can safely say that I am the only designer who does all that. But I love it. I have fantastic support and an incredible team working with me."

Dior is one of the most lucrative luxury brands in the world. The number of boutiques has grown from 10 to 220 and expected revenue for last year for Christian Dior Couture, which includes ready-to-wear, menswear and accessories – but not cosmetics – is expected to be close to $1 billion.

"I think Monsieur Dior would be thrilled. I'd be upset if he wasn't. But there are times when I cannot believe it has been 10 years. I still pinch myself, every time I walk in here."