Sarah Mower
think of fashion as quite frivolous and superfluous. But it’s surreal: now we’re the people who have skill sets to provide the protection that can save lives.’ This is the milliner Noel Stewart speaking, who I caught on the phone as he was finishing the latest batch of 1,700 visors, made by members of the British Hat Guild, which will be donated to London hospitals this week.
A surreal turnaround – you can say that again. Last time I saw Noel, he was backstage in Paris at Givenchy arranging his sensationally dramatic black floppy hat on the model opening the show. That was 2 March. Now, he’s one of the London East End millinery force who’ve joined up to the national #Visorarmy, supplying essential face protection for frontline staff. ‘It’s pop-up, and it feels quite guerrilla,’ he says. ‘We’re all within walking distance, so I can drop off the hundreds of foam strips
‘PEOPLE ALWAYS
factories to make hand sanitiser and PPE, or fuelling vaccine development and medical research, the multi-pronged collaboration of mega-brands in the fight against the virus has become such a new normal that the only questions seem to hover above those who don’t. I wonder what effect this time will have on our loyalties in the future: will we want to see social responsibility literally woven into the fabric of what we buy?
In Britain, the reaction has been a magnificent mirror held up to the ingenuity and public-spirited generosity of the people who inhabit the fashion industry. What it’s showing us viscerally, in communities up and down the country, is how vital it is to have local manufacturing, and the massed participation of many overlooked talents. The impact is there for all of us to feel: that we must never again become a stranded island, dependent only on foreign imports. ‘The reason we’re in this mess is that everything was made in China,’ says Kate Hills of Make it British. ‘But what it’s proving is that the willingness is there.’
At Burberry, volunteers who normally make trench coats in Castleford, Yorkshire are supplying the NHS with 100,000 pieces of PPE and rising. The company is foregoing Government furlough funding for all staff, donating to vaccine research at Oxford University and redirecting the voluntary salary cuts of senior staff and board members to an international aid fund. In Somerset, Mulberry staff are making gowns for Bristol Royal Infirmary, in response to a direct plea from the hospital’s ICU consultant Dr Jess Webster.
But the bigger scene, repeated everywhere, is that fashion activists are acting independently to throw up defensive shields around local hospitals and care workers who are crying out for help with PPE. From the citizen-organised For the Love of Scrubs, who are recruiting people with home sewing machines, to students using downloaded patterns from Central Saint Martins, all the way up to designers who sell luxury fashion to the world – all of them are organising directly with local hospitals after their volunteering offers fell on shamefully deaf Government ears.
It is personal for many. ‘I started working with Lewisham Hospital, because I was born there, and my mum and sister worked there,’ says Richard Quinn, who is now sending the jazziest floral-printed nonsurgical scrubs ever to doctors and nurses who are Dming him from all over the country. He pops in matching masks made from the cut-offs with every set.
Meanwhile, Phoebe English, Holly Fulton and Bethany Williams formed The Emergency Designer Network, making ‘hospital, but not Government-approved, garments for support staff and carers’, with a rapidly recruited army of 100 makers, including Simone Rocha, Roland Mouret, Emilia Wickstead and John Smedley, and firing up a logistics network from scratch with Net-a-porter, Matches and more. Their Go Fund Me page donations go to free up desperately scarce PPE for ICUS.
Strikingly, the national effort is largely down to extraordinary British women overcoming the hurdles put in their way by Government indifference. Caroline Gration, whose daughter is head of an ICU unit, was driven to sideline her day job as organiser of The Fashion School children’s sewing programme to organise a sanitised, socially-distanced production unit making surgical gowns from repurposed operating theatre drapes for the Royal Brompton Hospital, to patterns made by designer Julie Brogger. ‘People from all walks of life have volunteered – teachers, film-makers, make-up artists. I think we’ve got the whole of the second floor of Selfridges here.’
Among them are Michael Halpern, whose regular business is super-glam sequinned flares, and Simon Holloway, the English creative director of the deluxe Italian collection Agnona, switching from handling infinitely fine beige camel cashmere to sewing plastic-coated fabric for wards. A compulsion to contribute hit him when the Italian industry went into lockdown. ‘As the scale of the infection and death rate in London started to skyrocket, the horror of the exposure to Covid-19 of our NHS frontline teams became apparent. People were and are dying,’ he says. ‘So it was an opportunity to take out my longdormant sewing skills. It’s rare that the fashion industry can provide direct support to a life-threatening situation. Sewing here seemed like the least that I could do.’
This emergency has revealed a kindness, a resourcefulness, and a capacity for work that could bring hope of employment all over Britain. ‘People who have discovered new skills are now knocking at the door as they never did before. After this pandemic, I think fashion companies will be looking around for local production,’ says Kate Hills of Make It British. ‘There has to be a long-term solution for manufacturing.’
What we’re learning through this time will count for the future of our country. It’s taught us the power of localism, of what can be achieved even when there is no central system in charge. It might even change the way we look at the clothes we wear and who we want to buy from; even alter the reputation of fashion and the people who make it. It’s all becoming visible. And in the meantime, history will record that fashion people have stood up to play their part in fighting the biggest battle in a generation. It’s remarkable, but simple, as far as Richard Quinn sees it. ‘The sooner everyone helps,’ he says, ‘the sooner this will be over.’
THE DUKE AND DUCHESS of Sussex have already been the subject of enough column inches to fill a library. Now reports state that journalists Omid Scobie and Carolyn Durand are set to publish Thoroughly Modern Royals: The Real World Of Harry And Meghan. Scheduled for an 11 August release, the book has the quiet backing of the couple, who are said to have cooperated and provided interviews. It is the project of a lifetime for any royal expert, but it comes with challenges.
In 1992, Andrew Morton published Diana: Her True Story – In Her Own Words. He spoke with Diana on several occasions and she signed off on his drafts. ‘When Diana cooperated with me for her biography, it was after she’d been inside the royal family for 10 years and her marriage had collapsed,’ Andrew tells Grazia. ‘It is very different for Meghan. She was in the royal family for a year or so before she and Prince Harry decided to look for a way out.’
Andrew also describes a small group of Meghan’s friends as ‘emulating Diana’ by speaking about her to People magazine. This fuelled the ongoing court case with her father Thomas over a letter she sent him, with the defence arguing Meghan negated her own right to confidentiality by allowing friends to talk about the letter. Meghan has said in court papers that she was unaware of the interview or that her friends would cite the letter. Earlier this month the High Court judge dismissed some of Meghan’s allegations as ‘irrelevant’ to the case.
There is a rich seam of information to be mined, but a friend tells Grazia that no one wants the book to rock the boat. ‘This is a straightforward retelling of their story, from their first meeting to now. The rest of the family can rest easy: there will be no character assassinations or spilled secrets about the inner workings of the monarchy.’
Instead, Andrew explains, we can expect more of a focus on what’s next. ‘Meghan will try to protect the Archewell brand,’ he says, referring to the couple’s new charitable foundation. ‘So any interviews she gives will be to project herself going forward, rather than looking back in anger. She will discuss future plans regarding their humanitarian mission, with cryptic allusions to the reasons for leaving the house of Windsor.’
This is perhaps why Omid Scobie and
Carolyn Durand – who are looked on favourably by the couple – are the perfect duo to take on the story. Omid was one of only two journalists invited to Meghan’s last private event as a royal in March, at Buckingham Palace. ‘Meghan feels like her side of the story is often ignored or spun negatively,’ explains a source. ‘They saw this as their chance to contribute the facts to a legitimate project and put their trust in people they know and like.’ The pair, Andrew adds, ‘will have needed Meghan to give them the green light to speak to friends, and contacts at the Palace may speak to them for background guidance’.
Given the book (already available for pre-order) is predicted to sell millions of copies, it’s perhaps no surprise that Grazia understands another author is working on a rival project. Biographer Sean Smith, who has written books on the Countess of Wessex and the Queen’s lifetime love of horses, is also aiming for a 2020 release. Andrew Morton’s own contribution, Meghan: A Hollywood Princess, was released in 2018.
Crucially, though, Meghan has still not ruled out publishing her own, definitive work. A friend has previously told Grazia that she has kept a diary during her time in the UK, and it could form the basis of a fascinating book. ‘Meghan is a good writer,’ says Andrew. ‘She would have total control.’
IF YOU’VE ALREADY started on BBC Three’s adaptation of Sally Rooney’s Normal People (or binged every episode in one sitting), you’ll understand how the show has become a phenomenon. Last week, it launched thousands of rapturous tweets, Instagram fan accounts – and an unprecedented level of lockdown lust.
This is thanks, in part, to the electric performances of its two leads: Daisy Edgar-jones’s portrayal of the intense and vulnerable Marianne and Paul Mescal’s faultless performance as Connell have made them overnight stars.
Actor Paul, meanwhile, has fast become the romantic hero 2020 didn’t realise it needed (‘Paul Mescal is just exquisite,’ read one tweet).
In the 48 hours after the show, directed
by Lenny Abrahamson and Hettie Macdonald, dropped on iplayer on 26 April, Paul’s Instagram following soared by 40,000 and thousands of us were furiously googling for more information on the formerly unknown Gaelic-football-playerturned-theatre-actor from County Kildare.
Over a Zoom call from his living room sofa, Paul, 24, apologises for his ‘dishevelled appearance’ (which although relatable is actually untrue) after a day of surreal virtual promotion for his first ever TV role.
Paul admits that his life has been ‘mad’ since the show aired, not least because he’s currently self-isolating alone. ‘It’s been an incredible few days, even being stuck in isolation by myself,’ he says. ‘I’ve felt a huge amount of love, especially from family and friends back home. There have been a lot of people screaming into their phones at me.’
The heart-throb thing has been, understandably, weird to take in. ‘When people meet me in person they’ll be disappointed,’ he says, laughing. ‘People are taking that from the character of Connell, and that’s something I actually never thought he would be. It was genuinely the last thing I was expecting, so I haven’t formed an opinion on it yet, I suppose.’ He adds that he’s been trying to stay away from social media: ‘You can lose a whole afternoon to Twitter,’ he admits.
The story of Connell and Marianne – from their unlikely and then passionate romance, which starts in secondary school and continues on and off for years – has taken a lot of viewers on a nostalgic replay of their own first loves. The romantic power of the story, which was filmed last year in County Sligo and Dublin, is ‘for everyone’, says Paul, even if you’re yet to experience it yourself.
The positive representation of sex in Normal People’s intimate scenes has been noted by viewers on social media, particularly when Marianne, a virgin, and Connell first have sex, and he repeatedly asks her if everything he’s doing is ‘OK’.
‘It’s incredibly refreshing,’ Paul says of the response to their depiction of consent. ‘And also I find it slightly sad that the response to that scene has been so visceral because it means that we’ve missed that. I’m incredibly proud to be a part of that television moment but it does make me slightly depressed that it’s 2020 and that’s kind of a major talking point. I don’t think the application of consent makes it any less exciting for the audience. In fact, it’s the opposite: consent can be sexier because it shows a deep understanding and a deep care for the feelings of the other person and that’s the most important thing in those intimate situations.’
While the cast and crew can’t celebrate the success of the show together, Paul says he’s on the phone to Daisy a lot, they have a cast and crew Whatsapp group, and were also planning a Normal People quiz night on Zoom last weekend. In the wake of the show’s positive reviews both here and in the US, Sally Rooney wrote him an email which, he says, was so beautiful that he’s ‘going to print it out, frame it and put it on my wall’.
‘Relief is the predominant feeling. It’s started to be fun now and you can relax into it,’ Paul admits. ‘But the anxiety I felt last week was so high. I was holding on to this process, which was about a year and a bit ago, since the audition, and you’re thinking about Normal People, day in, day out, and you build up a big sense of what you want to bring to people. I’m so glad that it worked. I’d be lucky to get a response like this again to anything I do in my career.’