A WOMAN’S TOUCH
Justine Picardie hails a new feminist direction at Dior under its first female creative director, Maria Grazia Chiuri
Seventy years after Christian Dior launched his brand with the iconic ‘New Look’ collection, Maria Grazia Chiuri has made history as the first female creative director of this legendary Paris couture house. Her memorable debut show expressed a fresh vision for Dior, drawing on its revered legacy to shape a feminist future
Gone are the days when an editor could return from a month of fashion shows and pronounce with absolute authority that there would be a certain look for women in the coming season; for now we live in an era where style is as fragmented and eclectic as every other part of contemporary culture. Nevertheless, there was one message in the latest collections that seemed clearer than any other: ‘We Should All Be Feminists’, emblazoned across T-shirts at Dior, where Maria Grazia Chiuri made her debut as the first female creative director since the launch of the house 70 years ago.
The slogan was a quote from the Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, whose influential 2013 TEDx talk of the same title was given further prominence when Beyoncé sampled it in her anthem ‘***Flawless’ later that year. This song was also part of the soundtrack to Chiuri’s catwalk show, while Adichie herself sat front row as a guest of honour. The effect was as dramatic (albeit in a very different way) as Christian Dior’s inaugural show in February 1947, when the couturier introduced a sweeping departure from post-war austerity, with extravagant full skirts and a vision of romantic femininity. Dior’s ‘New Look’ (as it was christened by Carmel Snow, Bazaar’s editor at the time) became famous the world over; though it is only in retrospect that one can see the pre-war nostalgia that had created this apparently radical silhouette – with its reintroduction of corseting that evoked the lost days of a lady-like belle époque.
A similar ability to reinvent the past and make it look relevant again for the future has always been apparent in the work of Maria Grazia Chiuri – firstly at Fendi, and then at Valentino, where she was co-creative director with her longstanding professional partner Pierpaolo Piccioli. But Chiuri’s move to Dior last summer was also a means of establishing her own independence; for having been born and brought up in Rome, where she had studied and worked throughout her life – and made a family home with her husband and two children – the designer took the bold decision to go to Paris, to take on one of the most high-profile and powerful jobs in global fashion.
Yet when I saw her the day before her first show, Chiuri seemed her usual calm self (even taking the time to have lunch with me, between a steady stream of fittings). Several months later, when we meet again at the Dior headquarters, she is similarly composed; and although she confesses to feeling a little tired (our appointment comes at the end of a long working day), she looks relaxed in her low-key black trousers and sweater, while her signature array of silver rings flash on her expressive hands as she gestures as she speaks. ‘When I came here, I said to myself, “I have to work at this company in two different ways. In one way, you have to be a curator, to work with the heritage of Dior. But at the same time, you have to give your point of view, and so I have tried to introduce my personal style, and my personal point of view about the brand and about women… I think we have to reflect women now.’
As a consequence, Chiuri’s debut collection acknowledged the history of Dior – encompassing Christian Dior’s iconic tailored Bar jacket, the gentle fluidity of Marc Bohan’s era, John Galliano’s street-cool slogan prints, and even the emblematic bee logo from Hedi Slimane’s time at Dior Homme. But woven through these references to the past were Chiuri’s distinctive sense and sensibility: quilted white cotton fencing jackets and trousers; delicate tulle ballerina skirts worn with T-shirts or star-embellished woollen jumpers; and romantic chiffon gowns, embroidered with symbols of the zodiac and tarot. The latter brought to mind the charming artistry of Chiuri’s work at Valentino; though she says they were inspired by Christian Dior’s superstitious beliefs: ‘He was obsessed with tarot cards, horoscopes and astrology – absolutely obsessed.’ As for her own take on magical thinking: ‘Fashion speaks about dreams and magic, but it can also be playful, even joyful. And I’m feeling really happy about my new experience here at Dior.’
She speaks with warmth and candour, and the overriding impression is of a grown-up woman at ease with herself. At 53, Chiuri has spent many years working as part of a team, honing her expertise on accessories, as well as ready-to-wear and couture. (Chiuri worked for a decade at Fendi, from 1989 to 1999, where she and Piccioli were responsible for the launch of the supremely successful Baguette bag, in collaboration with Silvia Venturi Fendi. The duo were then hired by Valentino in 1999, initially as accessory designers, and were promoted to co-creative directors in 2008; their hugely popular Rockstud accessories range contributed to soaring revenues for the label). As a consequence, Chiuri is arguably the most experienced creative director at Christian Dior since the founder himself died in 1957. But quite aside from her knowledge of the luxury-fashion industry, as the first woman at the head of a legendary Paris couture house since Coco Chanel, Chiuri has an innate understanding of femininity, as well as feminism. ‘As a female designer, I want to have a dialogue with women,’ she says. ‘I really don’t want to impose anything. I want to give a service, and my point of view, but at the same time, I want to understand what could be right for you – so it’s a conversation.’
The daughter of a seamstress, and wife of a bespoke shirtmaker (Paolo Regini, who has his own atelier in Rome), Chiuri understands the importance of traditional craftsmanship; though for all her pragmatism and practical skills, she brings a lighthearted touch to fashion, too. (Remember the moment when the Zoolander stars, Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller, appeared in character as comical
male models on the Valentino runway?) And as the mother of a fashionable 20-year-old daughter – Rachele, who is a student in London – Chiuri has a good idea of what might be alluring to millennial customers; hence the bags featuring knuckle-straps spelling out ‘J’adior’ and the nonchalant leather biker jackets slung over translucent tulle skirts, revealing logo-adorned underwear. But there are also plenty of clothes in her Dior collection that will appeal to women of Chiuri’s generation – including flat lace-up boots, chic kitten heels, perfectly tailored trouser suits and classic coats. ‘You can’t dictate to women today,’ she says, when I ask her how she is able to speak to Dior’s broad spectrum of consumers. ‘You have to offer an ideal wardrobe that could be worn in different ways, because I think that now, all women – young or old – want to be unique. But at the same time, they want to be part of a community. So I try to provide them with the opportunity to choose a piece that can then be mixed in with their personal style.’
Her own look is an intriguing blend of monochrome pieces that are impossible to categorise as belonging to a particular season or brand – ‘they’re neutral’, she says, with a laugh, when I ask where her trousers are from, before admitting she’s not wearing Dior today – and offset her punk, platinum-blonde bob and fiercely individualist Gothic jewellery. All in all, it’s a long way from Christian Dior’s dream of fashion – in his words, he created ‘flower women with soft shoulders, blossoming bosoms, waists as slender as creepers’ – but at the same time, I think he might have appreciated Chiuri’s optimism, as well as her adherence to the great tradition of couture. (She studied at Rome’s Istituto Europeo di Design, and during her time at Valentino, doubled the couture ateliers at the house, and helped train a new generation of seamstresses.)
And I wonder, too, whether there is something in Chiuri’s self-confident spirit that might have chimed with Christian Dior’s beloved sister, Catherine, who was far more than a muse to him. His first perfume, Miss Dior, was named in her honour, and they shared a profound love of flowers and gardening – but she was never submissive; on the contrary, she fought for the French Resistance during World War II, and remained faithful to her beliefs.
Certainly, Chiuri is not afraid of being outspoken – during the course of our conversation, she makes a passionate denunciation of violence against women and condemns what she describes as a ‘macho culture’ in Italy, and elsewhere. Clearly, her commitment to feminism is real – it’s far more than a slogan on a T-shirt – and has been a constant and integral element of her life. ‘My mother was very modern, and always worked,’ she says, ‘and I never had to listen to my family saying, “You have to find a husband”. Never. They said to me, “You have to study, you have to find a job, you have to be independent, you have to earn your own money.”’
Indeed, her decision to accept the role at Dior – which has involved moving alone to Paris, and returning only for weekends to her family home in Rome, where her husband and 24-year-old son are still based – might be seen as a courageous act of independence. ‘You have to be brave to decide to leave your city, your routine,’ she says. ‘But I’m more empowered now than I was when I was 20.’
Yet for all her drive and determination, her ambition seems not to be rooted in egotism or narcissism. When I ask her whether she has heroines or role models, she replies: ‘Honestly, I admire all the women that try to have a family and work that are not so lucky as me. And I think of my grandmother who was unbelievable – my mother’s mother. She brought up four kids alone, after her husband died in the war. And then my mother lost her husband – my father died when I was 27 – and she has been alone since then, but she is strong, too, and she taught me to be strong.’ Chiuri pauses, briefly, and then says: ‘You know, I think that all women need to be strong – perhaps because if you have to take care of someone, if you have children, you must be strong.’
As she speaks, I find myself wondering if the connection Chiuri draws between strength and femininity might explain why she was inspired by fencing uniforms, among other things, in her first collection for Dior. Was this, I ask her, a reminder that women are as good at fencing as men, because the sport is not simply about physical strength; nor does it involve wounding your opponent. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ she replies. ‘In fencing you touch the heart to win, but you don’t kill. And I think it’s a good message for women – and a reminder to believe in your instincts.’
All of which suggests another possible clue as to the origins of the blood-red hearts that appeared in her Dior collection – for Chiuri is nothing if not heartfelt in her commitment to fashion and feminism (and family, too). True, these have sometimes been deemed an uneasy, even conflicting combination; but if anyone can thread them together, it will be Maria Grazia Chiuri, with her apparent lightness of touch, that is the mark of a genuinely accomplished woman. And I, for one, am looking forward to seeing more…