Radical simplicity
After 12 years alongside Nicolas Ghesquière and a brief stint at Dior with Raf Simons, the newly appointed artistic director of Courrèges Nicolas Di Felice brings the famous space-age fashion house back to life.
You were born in the post-industrial Belgian city of Charleroi. How has architecture influenced you?
It’s not the architecture of Charleroi that inspires me, but rather its harsh, dark side, which is also popular and very lively. I love this city for its contrasts. What inspires me in my work is precisely the contrast between Charleroi and Paris. If I had to keep an image of my childhood, it would be those car trips where we went from a field as far as the eye can see to a club in a hangar whose façade was lit up with bright neon pink. El Dorado, in a Las Vegas spirit.
Did your interest in fashion originate with MTV?
We didn’t have access to fashion magazines. There were no billboards. So between the 1980s and 2000, my first glimpses of fashion were on MTV. It helped me understand, that we can create our own character and universe.
What were your years at Balenciaga like?
Nicolas Ghesquière taught me precision. Even though I was already a very precise person, I had great respect for material, and I loved to sew. But at Balenciaga, it was a level above. Each stylist had to make a few pieces, but each one was more than merely completed – it was perfect. I learned to be precise not only in my way of working, but also in what I expect from the people with whom I work. Before making images, I am first a technician. I create clothes, and I’m proud of it.
And with Raf Simons…
It was a relatively short time. I have fond memories of Raf when he was at Dior. He is a romantic and passionate person. But his focus at Dior was very much on drawing. When I was a student at La Cambre, we had to draw pieces in a pragmatic – not artistic – way. I spent a year drawing, but what I really love is creating clothes on the body: cutting, pinning, making, and redoing. The fashion of André and Coqueline Courrèges was geometric with the A-line miniskirt; avant-garde in its volumes giving free rein to the freedom of the body; and optimistic in its colors. What is your vision?
What I mainly remember from their work is that their clothes were made to be worn. That was their wish. I like André’s preoccupation with taking his fashion to the streets. I also remember his quest for purity and simplicity. When you remodel a house, you must obviously respect its heritage. But there is also a moment when it is your own vision that you have to put forward. I offer simple things. I have no intellectual pretensions, even if I think a lot.
When you were appointed artistic director, one of the first things you did as a reissue of the brand’s strongest pieces was to use much more eco-responsible vinyl.
It is a new fabric on a 100 percent ecofriendly cotton jersey base and the polyurethane on it is 70 percent derived from vegetables. I am a creator with social and societal concerns.
Why reissue this first collection?
It is important that these pieces remain and exist. Tell us about your first show at Courrèges, which took place in a white cube built at “La Station”.
When I learned that the show would not be face-to-face, I had to change my mind very quickly. I felt locked away, and that’s where the idea came from. While the models were doing their last lap, a drone filmed people climbing the walls of the cube.
What is the concept behind the fall/winter 2021 collection?
It beings with heritage pieces that evoke the Courrèges salon of the past. The very first look is a kimono coat whose cut, pockets, and sleeves are inspired by an André Courrèges coat, which is part of our archives. He wears it in a very touching photo that I adore, in which he poses proudly in front of his shop. I also paid tribute to the workshop years of the house from 1960 to 1967. As the show unfolded, I showed with one step at a time that I was more comfortable with what I had in my hands, to make room for my own universe. Several silhouettes express this feeling. The two worlds: That of the house’s history, and mine.