Growing up in Scotland, I learned early that fashion and functionality were two peas in a pod. While the pretty lasses in London were swanning around in flimsy cocktail dresses, we up here were stitching extra layers into our skirts to survive the April gales. But you know what? That bloody cold taught me something vital: comfort is key. Yes, even in fashion. Hence why my first design, a tweed skirt with a secret thermal lining, became an instant hit among office workers and the elderly.
I always fancied myself as a bit of a rock chick and in the 70s I played in several bands, one regularly supported The Pogues during their early days but i was creating a sideline of clothing some of pops greatest icons, Paula Yates, Marie Helvin, Siouxsie Sioux and Debbie Harry.
The 1980s were a muckle turning point. I had tried to be the pop star without little success but in the early 80s I traded in my clothing market stall for a walk on the wild side of London’s fashion scene. I’ll never forget my first show, one critic called it a bagpipe exploded on a catwalk but my Scottish heritage was the backbone of my work.
My 'Patchwork of Perseverance' collection made the models look like they’d raided a skip and a grandmother’s attic, but good grief, it won awards.
It was then that i dipped my toes back into the World of Music when Debbie Harry asked me to support her 1993 tour so I cobbled together a new band, Doll, in five days, and in 1994 with the band firmly established, opened for the punk band The Raincoats.
I did come back to fashion in the 2000s, designing outfits for musicians including Rihanna, Björk and Kylie Minogue and when i lay dying of Cancer i knew that i had done my part to prove that fashion isn’t just about looking pretty, it’s about being bold, being weird, and being Scottish enough to know when to wrap up warm.
No comments:
Post a Comment