MY COUNTRY CHILDHOOD
A CREATIVE START IN VICTORIA’S WESTERN DISTRICT LED MEGAN PARK INTO A LONG AND SUCCESSFUL CAREER IN FASHION DESIGN.
Fashion designer Megan Park reveals how her upbringing in Ararat, Victoria, sparked her passion.
THERE’S SOMETHING ROMANTIC about the idea of an Australian country market, and the siren call of a Sunday drive towards a cluster of miscellaneous stalls. Megan Park, internationally renowned fashion designer, has trawled famous flea markets all over the world, and even she isn’t immune. “There’s one I love in a tiny village called Kongwak, in the hills of Gippsland,” she says. “I’m always looking for pieces to add to my archives: beautiful crocheted blankets, needlepoint, doilies — things that were obviously special, and would have taken months to knit or embroider.”
The love affair with textiles began when she was taught to sew by her mother, who managed the shop at the fabric mill in Ararat, Victoria. With three boys older than Megan, and a fourth younger, her mum — a farmer’s wife — relished having a daughter. “My brothers thought I was spoilt, but I think it was just that I was the only girl,” she says, laughing. Cue Barbie dolls, ballet lessons and hours of sewing. “I’d spend entire weekends stitching and making things.”
By her early teenage years, she was confident this was where her future lay. “I wrote to Maggie Tabberer — she was fashion editor of the Australian Women’s Weekly at the time — asking for advice on how to get into the fashion industry,” recalls Megan. “She was really sweet. I’ve still got her reply on the letterhead.”
That devotion paid off. A degree in fashion design from RMIT led to Megan’s first job, with Melbourne bridalwear designer Mariana Hardwick. The role involved travelling to India to source the finest silks, which turned out to be pivotal. Four years later, she left Australia to base herself in London, and began designing for one of the Kolkata fabric houses she’d built a relationship with on her many visits. Working closely with tailors, embroiderers, pattern makers and artisans, she developed fabrics and showed them all over Europe, where they were picked up by the likes of Dries van Noten, Givenchy and Sonia Rykiel.
In 1998 she launched her own label, starting with scarves and bags, and evolving to encompass womenswear, children’s clothing and homewares, all designed and made by hand, with the utmost respect for human beings— those who make the clothes as well as those who will wear them. Twenty-one years on from her first collection, it’s a journey Megan has reflected on with a self-published book, Megan Park, co-written with her friend and journalist Simone Egger.
After 13 years in London, that journey brought her back to Australia, keen to be near family. Megan, 51, now lives in Melbourne’s Fitzroy with her architect husband, Anthony Cox, and their 12-year-old twins, Ella and Marley. Her brothers are all nearby with their families and their parents still live in Ararat. Megan’s closest friend, whom she’s known since they were six, lives 10 minutes away.
Hanging in her Melbourne studio, are more than 2000 garments she’s designed in her career, each an artwork of its own. Alongside them are her ‘drawers of inspiration’, painstakingly stacked with the antique textiles, lacework and embroidery she’s collected over the years. There’s Japanese damask, French brocade, Kashmiri silk and, of course, doilies from Australian country markets. > Megan Park ($49.95, Megan Park) by Megan Park and Simone Egger can be ordered online, visit meganpark.com.au
“My brothers thought I was spoilt, but I think it was just that I was the only girl.”
GROWING UP, I had a lot of freedom — maybe because I was child number four, and my mum was working. I walked to school and I’d ride my bike a few kilometres to friends’ houses. Entire summers were spent at the local pool, lying on the asphalt and sunbaking. I’d have 20 cents to buy some lollies or an icy pole on a hot day, and you knew every shop owner along the street. It was a very wholesome upbringing.
My father managed a very large farm, but we didn’t live on it; we were in the centre of town. A lot of my friends were farmers and they lived on their farms, so I guess we were townies! My brothers were much more involved in the farm, but when I was 15 or 16, I remember taking a week off school to be the shearers’ cook. Mum made all the food beforehand, and I was in charge of heating it up and serving it. In the meantime, I just sat and stitched.
My mum was always sewing — she still is. She’d stocked our sewing room from floor to ceiling, so I had everything to hand. I loved ballet, so I made my own costumes. When I was 12, I started making Barbie doll clothes and selling them at the church fair — even though I didn’t go to church! I also made dolls that my uncle would take down to Melbourne, to be sold through the Fitzroy Football Club. I was taking orders!
Unlike my brothers — and unlike most country kids I knew — I played no sports, but I’d sometimes join in their backyard cricket games, and I was always given more lives before I had to be out. I was just far more interested in crafting and making. I even called my cat Calico.
Looking back I can see how lucky I was to have grown up in the country, but at the time I would plead with my parents to be sent off to boarding school so I could live in the city. I can see now that one of the best things about growing up in Ararat was that there was no importance placed on status. We all went to a government high school and everyone mixed together regardless of socio-economic backgrounds. When I got to university, the Melbourne kids seemed so much more sophisticated and exposed. I was this far less worldly country kid, and I felt intimidated, but I’ve always had good instincts for becoming friends with good people. I think that comes down to my family and their values. I’m not sure they’re specifically ‘country’ values because I think anyone can have good values wherever they come from, but my parents gave me strong ethics and morals and taught me to be mindful of how you treat others. I think that’s why I have such long relationships with the people I work with, whether it’s my agent in New York who’s been my agent for 18 years, or the people who’ve been making for me for 20 years. They’re family.
These days I tend to gravitate towards cities, although
I do feel the need for space. We bought a place at the beach near Wilsons Promontory, in a little collection of around 40 houses snuggled in the bush. There’s not even a corner shop. Sometimes you can go to the beach around Melbourne and feel like you’ve just moved with everyone else in your area. I wanted something completely different to that. We chose complete countryside.
I can see now that one of the best things about growing up in Ararat was that there was no importance placed on status.