STELLA McCARTNEY
The longtime activist talks making sustainable design desirable
“I THINK MEGHAN CHOSE ME for REASONS OTHER THAN JUST a BEAUTIFUL DRESS ”
STELLA M cC ART NE Y is talking about zeitgeisty topics like the state of fashion, the complications of raising a family, the rise of feminism and our collective impact on the environment. But all I can think about, embarrassingly, are her shoes. When she gets really animated in her speaking, she stretches her leg out, revealing a pair of red woven pumps. The shoes, which have a deep V and are made in a leather-like, eco material she calls alter-nappa, are distracting. I wonder whether the pumps are in-store. And which parts of my wardrobe they would work best with and when I’d wear them (definitely shows, and big meetings). I should point out I’m not a woman especially prone to distraction. The shoes look rich and have an insouciant sense of sex and cool. In other words, they’re the opposite of what normally comes to mind when you hear the words ‘faux leather’.
The long-standing myth that the latter can’t be the former irks Stella no end.
‘It’s such an out-of-date way of thinking. Trust me, these shoes cost more to make than a pair of leather shoes,’ she says. ‘I had to train the technicians on the machines to use this material. People are being fed a lie [that leather and fur are more luxurious], and if they want to take it, fine. But I am here to tell you and show you otherwise. The fashion industry has been using the same ten materials for the past 2OO to 3OO years – come on, guys: the food industry is changing faster than that. Everyone else is changing, but the fashion industry is doing the same old stuff, and getting away with it. They are getting away with murder.’
Roughly two decades ago, when Stella was a young Central Saint Martins graduate just starting out as a vegetarian designer with a no-leather/no-fur policy, most in the fashion world dismissed this kind of talk. Back then, planet-friendly clothing was anathema to fashion — the visually lacklustre stuff of hemp sack cloths and Birkenstocks. Today, not so much. As an entire generation of consumers and a growing list of brands begin to grasp the extent to which decades of unchecked consumption have damaged the planet, Stella’s sustainable practices suddenly look like a no-brainer.
Stella McCartney — the famous daughter-of turned famous-in-her-own-right designer, business owner, mother, wife and environmental activist — is enjoying a career high after 22 years in business. And that’s not because environmentalism has become fashionable. She’s just become the sole owner of her company, having bought out Kering’s 5O% share, and opened a new store, which is equal parts visual palimpsest (the four-floor space is decorated with impressive feats in recycling, such as ‘marble’ that is actually recycled foam) and technical innovation (the shop boasts the cleanest air in London, thanks to the cutting-edge filtration technology created by Airlabs).
We’re sitting on the top floor – a plush, white-walled space for special client appointments and events. It’s filled with pieces that have personal meaning to her: an installation of ceramic figurines made by her staff, and framed images of her parents, Sir Paul and Linda McCartney. And in each corner of the room are mannequins dressed in the nowiconic pieces that catapulted Stella’s name onto the screens of 1.9 billion viewers just weeks before: the dresses she created for the royal wedding. There, in pride of place, stands the toile of the halter gown Meghan Markle famously wore to her wedding reception at Frogmore House. In the opposite corner stands the honey-yellow stunner chosen by Amal Clooney for the nuptials, while reams of fabric on a table in the centre of the room resemble that of the blush double-tiered dress another high-profile guest, Oprah Winfrey, wore.
A royal-wedding commission is largely considered to be a career-defining achievement — one that pushes a designer’s business to a higher league of fame and profitability. But for Stella, it’s more validation of successes she’s already achieved. ‘I have had moments in my career where I’ve caught up with Gwyneth or Madonna and was like, “Can I dress you for
“I CHALLENGE ANYONE to WALK INTO A FUR FARM and SEE IF THEY proudly SHOW YOU WHAT THEY’RE DOING”
that?” But this time around, they were drawn to me. [Meghan] approached me and we worked on other things. She wore other pieces of mine and we had a friendship. And then she asked me to do her second wedding dress. I was honoured and I still am,’ says Stella.
What made the moment stand out from other royal weddings was that the conversation around The Dress went beyond fashion. In Stella’s hands, it became a feminist and environmental statement. On-camera and social-media pundits weren’t just talking about the look’s beauty, but examining it within the context of the couple’s choice in transport (an electric car), floral arrangements (produced by a sustainable florist) and food (a seasonal, local and beef-free menu). ‘I think Meghan chose me for reasons other than just a beautiful dress — plenty of people can do that. She is not a difficult client to make look beautiful. Amal called me and asked me to do it, as did Oprah. I look at that Amal dress, and it is made of sustainable viscose that took us three years to develop. And I think, obviously I am a British designer, but I think being a woman and being a women’s woman played a part. They are all women’s women. It’s a big deal,’ she says.
Stella says the outspoken, sustainability touting, womenswear-designing woman’ s woman we see today originated with her mum. ‘It started here,’ she says, looking at a framed image of her parents hanging on the wall. ‘I look at this and see my mum looking so modern — look at her hairy legs and armpits. That is what I was brought up on: a woman who cut her own hair and never dyed it. I was brought up on this kind of realness, on an organic farm. So that had a massive impact on me, regardless of who these people were. I was brought up in a very honest, mindful, responsible way.’
She built her career on the same principles, holding on to the vegetarianism and environmentally conscious mindset and introducing it to the larger fashion world. ‘I was approached to design in Paris for Chloé, and that’s when I was like, “I am not going to work in leather.” If you looked at me as a job applicant, you would know I was not going to compromise my ethics and beliefs for fashion. But they were like, “Fine, we want what you do.” So that’s when I really started to be able to put things into practice,’ she says.
She thinks the treatment of animals will be the next big talking point in the discussion around fashion’s environmental footprint. ‘People are afraid of it right now because it’s not palatable. But I challenge anyone reading this to walk through an open door into a fur farm and see if they proudly show you what they are doing. If it’s so fine, let’s see it. Let’s see where all these animals are getting killed.’
Many an animal-rights protestor has terrorised a fashion show, storming catwalks and verbally attacking the editors who attend them. In the fashion world, their methods have been polarising at best. But Stella maintains a hard line, one that sounds more PETA protest than heart-tugging Blue Planet. ‘They had to get [celebrities] to say I’d rather go dead than wear fur and have blood on the runway; they had to have those shocking images; that takes balls.’
As uncompromising as she sounds, Stella admits sustainability is a work in progress — even within the walls of her shop. ‘There are some things I cannot do, like recycled metal. And I have my neon sign hanging here – that’s not perfect. But at the same time, I’m like, OK, all the papier-mâché downstairs is from shredded paper in the office, the phone is recycled, the trees are from the Chelsea Flower Show. I am trying hard to make change. You have to fight for it. I am a fighter, and I am a rebel.’
There’s also the issue of economics. As with organic food, sustainable fashion can be more expensive than average, falling squarely outside the average high-street shopper’s budget. It’s one thing to encourage someone to invest in sustainable luxury, but another matter altogether for a single mother or struggling university student on a shoestring budget. For many people, talk of a sustainable cashmere sweater, hand-embroidered by an artisan on an eco-commune in Kenya, can elicit the same level of eye roll as a brag about a certified organic, locally sourced, smallbatch, Fairtrade anything.
‘Look, I get it, I really get it,’ Stella says. ‘I have struggled with the price point of my product from day one. I still do. I work so hard to keep it down; I get charged 3O% more tax when I take my non-leather products into the US; and I don’t pass that on to my customer, I add it to my margin. I believe in quality, I believe in fairness, and the minute you pay someone fairly, your prices go up. I wasn’t given money by my mum and dad, so I always shopped vintage at charity shops. And, damn it, I felt cooler for doing that. People know to do that now; there is enough visual collateral to give young people confidence to wear things in a way where they don’t have to come to fashion houses to say who they are. Take ownership of who you are, take ownership of the environment you live in and be responsible. If you guys can’t do it, then we are screwed.’