THE PERFECT 10
As Dion Lee marks a decade at the helm of his own label, he reflects on the challenges and triumphs that led him to become a leading light of Australian fashion. By Alice Birrell.
As Dion Lee marks a decade at the helm of his label, he reflects on the journey to becoming a leading light of Australian fashion.
THE CROWD OUTSIDE a Dion Lee show in New York is dedicated. It is a sub-zero day earlier this year for the showing of his autumn/winter ’19/’20 collection and a glacial wind is blowing through a hairline sliver between skyscrapers. A queue dutifully forms. As inevitable show delays set in, stockbrokers come and go from the adjacent New York Stock Exchange, and the temptation to try to infiltrate one of the world’s most secure buildings to warm up grows. But the crowd (some with bare toes) stays. Come September, for spring/summer ’20 it is an unseasonably sweltering day, on a sun-exposed rooftop on the Lower East Side. Still they come.
There is no doubt that 35-year-old Dion Lee has made good. For Australians, he is a story to tell design students. For his peers and the industry, he’s played a key role in drawing attention to our shores. Internationally he has become known as the cerebral designer from Down Under with an intellect to match the complexity of his clothes; a serious thinker. A decade in, though, and headquartered in New York, there’s something else creeping in. When he takes his bow for spring/ summer ’20, he is wearing white low-slung jeans and a loose T-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. He looks more late-to-hisown party than straitlaced.
“I feel like I don’t get stressed at all anymore,” Lee says, on a break in New York after the shows and a trip to Paris for showings. He speaks with clarity and, happily still, after three years in the US, Australian warmth. “It takes a lot these days to overwhelm me. I’ve been doing this for 10 years now, and I feel so much comfort in the rhythm of how I work.”
Less comfortable was the process of opening up his archives for this shoot, which is a reflection on 10 years of his design signatures. “It’s quite confronting,” he says laughing. “It’s hard not to be super-critical.” Parsing all his collections, he chose key elements that will be familiar to those who have worn his pieces: cut-outs forming negative space to sensuously frame the body, technical textiles created through perforations or laser-cutting to create net-like veils which seemingly map the topography of the wearer’s curves, and woven structures of complex folding and weaving. It is a highly technical backcatalogue that anyone would be proud to call their own, and he may be the only one surprised to find that there is a continuous thread all the way from 2009 to now. “To be honest,” he offers, “there are elements in my graduate collection that I find are still extremely consistent in my work.”
In 2010, for his sophomore collection, Lee showed at the Sydney Opera House, an outing that has stuck in the minds of local and international press and buyers ever since, and
not just because of the location. There was a sculptural contouring of the female form – those ‘woven structures’ – from deliberately tangled cords of pleated fabric in powdered blues, achingly delicate shades of periwinkle and a white that echoed the House’s sails. They created lattices over short cocktail dresses, framing the collarbone, then meeting to trace the line of the torso before diverging at the hips. It was a kind of sinewy, under-the-radar sexuality that at the time felt supremely futuristic.
Flash forward to spring/summer ’20, and expertly crafted leather harnesses appear interlocking over the waist and converging over the rib cage in flushed nudes and angelic whites. A collaboration with Fleet Ilya, a London-based luxury leather-goods label, with belts and buckles they exude the same brand of covert allure. With a melding of utility and lingerie they also still feel that one step ahead.
But it’s not been a straight road from there to here. From that Opera House show, he was soon being reviewed by critics world over, and they made no concessions to a brand from a far-flung continent. Picking up his signatures, they lauded him, and then, because they had great expectations, scrutinised him significantly. Collection after collection they would excoriate some things, heap praise on others.
“What was also adding to the pressure was that some of my very early collections were picked up internationally by big international retailers, like Net-A-Porter,” he reflects. It was a lot to ask for a student fresh out of the Sydney Institute of Technology, working out of his mother’s Newtown home. “I went from studying fashion to loaning pieces to magazines and having stores that were interested in buying the clothes. It was being in a classroom and having the freedom to dream up what you liked and only having to make one of them, and then [ suddenly] having to put full collections together.”
In a well-told story, the pressures of running a business, production and manufacturing became too much. “It was a nightmare,” he says. “I was under an immense amount of pressure and, to be honest, I was just not really equipped to be in that position. There were times early on where I really wanted to give it up, close the business, and basically do something else. I lost the things that I really loved about it. It felt like a ride that I couldn’t get off.”
Investment from Cue group in 2013 saved him and that period, he says, is why stress is rarely a presence in his design studio. “Being able to have done a lot of really hard work early on to build that, as tough as it was, has been great in terms of having that really strong foundation.”
In high school at Newtown School of Performing Arts, Lee was drawn to theatre and film with fashion on the periphery, until he discovered it combined all of his interests. “It had this performance element to it. It involved music and theatre, but it also involved art.” He began making things for friends on a second-hand sewing machine at 16, cutting up vintage clothes and piecing them back together and being drawn to the functionality of clothing. “I’d say my parents in many ways influenced that,” he says of his father, who owns a construction company, and his mother, who works for the Department of Education. “My dad makes things with his hands and is, I suppose, technical. But my mother is a bit more innate and creative and soft.”
Working at the now-closed boutique Robby Ingham in Paddington during university, he was fixated on tailoring as a precise art
“It takes a lot these days to overwhelm me. I’ve been doing this for 10 years now, and I feel so much comfort in the rhythm of how I work”
and would turn clothes by Comme des Garçons, Jil Sander and Maison Martin Margiela inside out to examine the seams. “What linked all of that together was this deconstruction and play on textiles and experimentation,” he recalls. “They explored decorative techniques, but it was in a way that never felt overly decorative; everything felt very purposeful.”
His is not a whimsical romantic’s view of the world, but a roving eye, keen to unravel what is behind the most accomplished structures, buildings and works of art. As such, his inspiration has ranged from weather radar, labyrinths and the kinetic art of the Zero movement in Heinz Mack, Günther Uecker and Otto Piene. It can be as laser-sharp as the monastic lines of an imposing Tadao Ando concrete building or as simple as the warped lines of oil on water.
Although Lee is based Stateside, today tailoring is done in Florence and the rest of his pieces are made in Australia or the US. His skill with construction has been one of his most admired traits by both fashion commentators and customers. His recent corseted pieces, structured but made from soft jersey, have waitlists and been worn by both Hadids. Kendall Jenner, Emily Ratajkowski and Priyanka Chopra are also fans, and his female followers range from the social-media titans, to royalty like the Duchess of Sussex.
He has just launched men’s and unisex pieces, joining bags, shoes and lingerie. Adding to his awards as the 2012 Australian winner of the International Woolmark Prize and the 2017 Australian Fashion Laureate among others, he was also selected the same year to design the Opera House uniforms. From that first show in 2010, and a second on the forecourt in 2017, Opera House CEO Louise Herron sees him as very much the icon’s match. “The Opera House’s vision is to be as bold and inspiring as the building itself, and Dion Lee personifies that spirit and aspiration,” says Herron. “He’s part of a new generation of young designers who are both confidently Australian and truly at home on the international stage.”
So, does he still scrutinise himself each season? “Yeah, I do,” he says with a sigh. “It’s hard not to. For me as well, I’m just making clothes – it can feel very frivolous. It’s not a building”. Dion Lee as the architect is not an idea he baulks at. “Well, I’d love to design my own house, for sure,” he admits. “I’m looking to explore furniture [further]. I’d love to explore sculpture or lighting and move into bigger projects the more confident I get with other materials.”
“My brand is not new anymore. It’s a 10-year-old brand,” he continues. “I think I do want more challenges on the horizon for myself so that I continue to feel stimulated by what I’m doing.” Looking back has been a useful exercise for him to aim for those steeper slopes. “It’s almost like standing still for a moment and taking that all in, somewhat releasing it and moving forward into what’s new.” No matter what it is, they will queue for it. ■