From Fashion to Film
In 1999 I did my last catwalk show. I had shown every season since soon after I launched my label, always up for nights in a row before the shows. It was such a huge expenditure of energy and afterwards, when I rushed out to share the excitement and sense of achievement, everyone had gone. On to the next show. What was it all for? I decided to make a film instead. I had already made two short
films at the start of my career: A Day at the Races was directed by the late James Lebon, devastatingly handsome hairdresser and film maker, shot at Newbury Race track. I had no idea about making a film, I don’t think we even had a permit – unheard of in this era of regulations. We showed up with a van full of models and our hair stylist, the much missed genius Ray Allington who kept getting told off by furious ground staff for running in and out of the ladies loos where we had set up our styling base. On the way home our car ran out of petrol - my dad had lent us his antique Bentley – so we filmed the models pushing it along the motorway. When we got home very late we shot the evening wear in my flat, the girls stroppily sashaying up and down the sitting room, lit by a bare light bulb. It was wonderful. My next film making foray was slightly more organised. A producer friend told me John Malkovich was really into fashion. He arranged for us to meet and I went off to Paris where he was filming Being John Malkovich, hoping to persuade him to direct my next short. I waited nervously in the red velvety bar of the Hotel Raphael until he appeared, elegant and attractive like a glamorous figure from Barbar the Elephant, wearing exquisite clothes. I talked through my references - that season it was all about Tweed, first world war lesbians; Butch and Femme; the influence of Colette. John explained that he couldn’t do my film, he didn’t have the time. That I should ask Spike Jonze instead. ‘I don’t want Spike Jonze. I want you.’ My spirits sank and we must have talked about other things. Then suddenly he said. I’m going to do it. I have one and a half days. Get everything ready and I will be in touch with a story.’
I rushed home, ecstatic. A week later he called me. He had read a clipping about a Japanese man who was obsessed with Tsunamis. He had made himself a pair of inflatable rubber underpants in case disaster struck. One day on the crowded Tokyo underground the rubber pants inflated, causing chaos. I paused. Then I thought ‘Okay. You are John Malkovich. I don’t understand this but you must know what
you’re doing.’ What budget we had was used to hire a train carriage. We wrote Top Models Only on the doors. The inflating underpants special effects were a Jacques Brel song that got faster and faster. Actors, models, and friends took part. We showed the film in art galleries. Anna Wintour came to a special screening in NYC.
John and I went on to make two more fashion films: Lady Behave, and Hideous Man. I never understood why John Malkovich would want to make a low budget short film for no money. One day I asked him and he said "It’s the only time I have complete control over the film making process". He is a brilliant director.
films at the start of my career: A Day at the Races was directed by the late James Lebon, devastatingly handsome hairdresser and film maker, shot at Newbury Race track. I had no idea about making a film, I don’t think we even had a permit – unheard of in this era of regulations. We showed up with a van full of models and our hair stylist, the much missed genius Ray Allington who kept getting told off by furious ground staff for running in and out of the ladies loos where we had set up our styling base. On the way home our car ran out of petrol - my dad had lent us his antique Bentley – so we filmed the models pushing it along the motorway. When we got home very late we shot the evening wear in my flat, the girls stroppily sashaying up and down the sitting room, lit by a bare light bulb. It was wonderful. My next film making foray was slightly more organised. A producer friend told me John Malkovich was really into fashion. He arranged for us to meet and I went off to Paris where he was filming Being John Malkovich, hoping to persuade him to direct my next short. I waited nervously in the red velvety bar of the Hotel Raphael until he appeared, elegant and attractive like a glamorous figure from Barbar the Elephant, wearing exquisite clothes. I talked through my references - that season it was all about Tweed, first world war lesbians; Butch and Femme; the influence of Colette. John explained that he couldn’t do my film, he didn’t have the time. That I should ask Spike Jonze instead. ‘I don’t want Spike Jonze. I want you.’ My spirits sank and we must have talked about other things. Then suddenly he said. I’m going to do it. I have one and a half days. Get everything ready and I will be in touch with a story.’
I rushed home, ecstatic. A week later he called me. He had read a clipping about a Japanese man who was obsessed with Tsunamis. He had made himself a pair of inflatable rubber underpants in case disaster struck. One day on the crowded Tokyo underground the rubber pants inflated, causing chaos. I paused. Then I thought ‘Okay. You are John Malkovich. I don’t understand this but you must know what
you’re doing.’ What budget we had was used to hire a train carriage. We wrote Top Models Only on the doors. The inflating underpants special effects were a Jacques Brel song that got faster and faster. Actors, models, and friends took part. We showed the film in art galleries. Anna Wintour came to a special screening in NYC.
John and I went on to make two more fashion films: Lady Behave, and Hideous Man. I never understood why John Malkovich would want to make a low budget short film for no money. One day I asked him and he said "It’s the only time I have complete control over the film making process". He is a brilliant director.
