“If in doubt, dress up. Don’t ever dress down – you’ll be so disappointed.”
Farewell to fashion visionary, doyenne of punk, iconoclast and provocateur, environmental activist, true eccentric British original and Tintwistle, Cheshire’s finest export, Dame Vivienne Westwood (8 April 1941 – 29 December 2022). Who else would rock up to Buckingham Palace in an exquisitely tailored suit to collect her OBE medal (like she did in 1992) – and then afterward twirl for photographers to reveal she was wearing no panties beneath? What other designer would urge the public to buy less clothes?
As a punk fanatic steeped in the lore of the Sex Pistols, making a pilgrimage to
the hallowed ground of Westwood’s World’s End boutique on King’s Road (with the
sloping, creaking floor) when I first moved to London in 1992 was de rigueur. The
shirt I wanted wasn’t in stock in my size so the salesperson sent me to the
Bond Street branch, where I was served by fabulous platinum blonde cougar Jibby
Beane (teetering around in extreme fetish heels and wearing a long white lace gown
so sheer you could see her matching white push-up bra and thong beneath). When Beane
stood behind me in the mirror and gushed that I looked “so cavalier”, she could
have persuaded me to buy used tea bags emblazoned with the Westwood orb logo. The
shirt cost £75 which seemed astronomical at the time. Of course, I still wear
it on special occasions to this day (even on job interviews). And of course, I
hung onto the bag for ages! I was always envious of friends and colleagues who’d
casually remark they used to regularly spot Westwood cycling around South
London with her vivid orange hair flying. I only fleetingly encountered her
once: at a Christeene gig downstairs at the Soho Theatre a few years ago. Ripples
of excitement went through the crowd when Westwood and her entourage arrived.
Everyone knew they were in the presence of greatness!
/ Pictured: portrait of Westwood by Jane Bown, 1999 /
