The forgotten founders of British fashion

Haute Couture is irrevocably tied to our notions of Parisian chic. It is the Champs Élysée, Avenue Montaigne and Rue Cambon that form the backdrop to this mysterious and perpetually astonishing industry. Understandably so, for is it not true the Paris based houses of Dior, Balenciaga and Givenchy defined the tenets of classic elegance? Is it not their principles of line and cut that are so obviously discernable in countless contemporary collections? Our abiding image of the couture industry is a tableau of French couturiers working with their army of petites mains and vendeuses, slaving to produce exorbitantly priced works of art. The very notion of couture conjures up a certain inimitable Frenchiness that us mere Anglo-Saxons reluctantly concede is beyond our range.

The forthcoming V&A exhibition entitled ‘The Golden Age of Couture: Paris and London 1947-57’ will therefore appear as sacrilege to this innately Parisian version of couture. The concept of putting the couture production of both cities on equal footing will be viewed by some as a partisan outing. Self-labelled purists will reference the stringent legal regulations, which protect French haute couture. These conventions, defined by the Chambre de Commerce d’industrie de Paris, set out strict guidelines to prevent the abuse of the title. Indeed only the names of those houses listed each year are legally sanctioned Haute Couturiers, with Giorgio Armani and the Hollywood favourite, Elie Saab on the ‘invited houses’ list. These restrictions demand that a haute couturier must have a House based in Paris and meet the demanding standards of La Chambre Syndicale. These include the employment of at least fifteen full time workers at the aforementioned Parisian atelier and the presentation of at least thirty-five runs of both day and eveningwear to the press every season. While this is a clear case of economic protectionism, it has served to distort the reality and depict other couture systems as mere pretenders to the true fashion centre.

These disputes do little to shake the determination of the exhibition organisers to see British couture given the attention it deserves. What has long been overlooked is the output of British couturiers during the Twentieth Century. Amy de la Haye, formerly Curator of 20th Century Dress at the V&A, has noted that in "recent years, it is the output of young, often radical, art-school trained, ready-to-wear designers and the looks of sub-cultures which have been prioritised. As a result, there has been a lack of detailed work upon haute couture, and with respect to London couture in particular."

In 1971, Cecil Beaton, most prolific of photographers, selected the collection of British couture, which will be on display from 22nd September. This collection forms a retrospective of an age of glamour in which London provided the milieu for the ‘top twelve’ couturiers, some working at Houses established in the early twenties, others opening new salons under their own names in the post-war period.

Claire Wilcox, curator of the exhibition, acknowledges that the challenge to Parisian dominance may rouse debate, however she is confident that British couture can stand up to the test, especially in terms of tailoring. "While the scale of production in London was much smaller than Paris, the clothes produced were of equal quality and more wearable." What is perhaps even more important than showing the quality of the British clothes, is revealing the relationship between these two fashion cities.

The interchange and dialogue between the London and Parisian fashion systems is a story obscured by accounts of rivalry. During the 50s, Dior’s London House did a roaring trade, Lanvin sent his cutters to Saville Row and British designers like Molyneux and Charles Creed operated out of Paris. British fabric designed by Miki Sekers was exported to Paris as Parisian silks were imported by British couturiers. Wilcox argues: "By putting French and British couture side by side, we get an understanding of the relationship between the two and realise there was a greater flow than ever before realised."

It would be misleading, however, to argue that tensions did not exist between the two fashion cities. Norman Hartnell, appointed dressmaker to the British Royal family and designer of Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation dress, suffered a major setback when attempting to open an atelier in Paris. The Paris dress world simply refused to allow him to cross the channel. Alison Settle, former Vogue editor (1929-1936) and doyenne of the post WWII fashion world, noted that Paris refused Hartnell access to their fabric suppliers and accessory makers and warned model girls not to take employment at his House. "Paris couture ganged up on him", says Settle in her biographical notes, "probably because his name did not sound French enough". Inevitably the Hartnell House failed.

Importantly there are many distinctions between the work of British and French couturiers, which are coloured by social, cultural, and commercial practises of both countries. The English social season meant that couture pieces were often designed exclusively for social events and were encoded with complex symbols of etiquette which were unique to the British garments. In terms of Parisian styling, Claire Wilcox admits there is a certain quality which British garments lack. The French garment is built from the inside in a process of layers, which creates a beauty in reverse.

Amy de la Haye also notes that the two fashion systems were very different. "Ultimately, it is a different product. Parisian couture is innovative and striking in terms of design and the publicity this generates is critical for the sales of lucrative licensed products. In London, where the couture houses are invariably designer-owned and relatively small scale, it is the sales of clothes which generates the income and thus, the clothes are eminently wearable". It is clear that London designs were created for the individual and are therefore more personal than Parisian models created to achieve maximum commercial success through orders from trade buyers, perfume and accessory sales.

So what makes the history of design houses, which enjoyed their heyday over fifty years ago, relevant today? Firstly, it can help redefine what British fashion has stood for in the past and how we have arrived at what it represents today. Contemporary British fashion congratulates itself on being a hub of creativity, producing the most innovative fashion graduates in the world. If you want eclectic eccentricism, we’ll give you Vivienne Westwood. If you are seeking avant-garde thinking, we have Gareth Pugh. If an established brand needs a new burst of creativity look to McQueen, Galliano or Christopher Bailey. The question is where did this identity come from?

What characterised the British couturiers of the late 40s and 50s was an innate flexibility, required for survival. While Parisian designers enjoyed state backing, a superfluity of high quality needle workers and cheap workroom space, British designers were continually struggling. By thinking on their feet and embracing new developments to broaden their market, inventiveness in design was fostered. When couturiers began expanding their designs into ready-to-wear labels, the advance to the age of the modern designer became inexorable. This was the nascent force of democratisation in the fashion world, creating well-cut, better quality clothing for the masses and adding the cachet of their name to the ready-to-wear business. The post war couturiers renowned for their tailoring, innovative design and individual quirkiness, provided the rudiments for designer ready-to-wear clothes and British High Street fashion to build upon. It was on these foundations that the new designers of the youth revolution of the swinging sixties were to flourish and eventually render British couture obsolete.

While there is a clear line to be drawn between the couturiers and the contemporary British fashion industry, many of the ideals which they represented have been eroded. The quality of finish and craftsmanship, which the London couturiers prided themselves on, is no longer a feature of the perceived British fashion identity. Of course that is in part due to the decline of British couture industry and the lack of state backing to provide the funds for exquisitely expensive fabrics and labour, which the French industry continues to enjoy.

Ian Garlant, creative director at Hardy Amies, which opened its doors on Saville Row in 1946 and is now one of Britain's only true couture houses, also emphasises the differences in cultural realities between the two countries. "There is a fundamental difference in perception of the role of clothing in the national psyche in Europe. Fashion in France is about public display. In Paris it is life on the boulevard for public consumption...- traditionally British clothing was more private and personal." British couture has a heritiage of creating discreet garments that work for the individual. Inevitably these are pieces deemed unworthy of the editorial attention that the spectacular and rarified occasionwear grasps. Indeed the ‘behind closed doors’ nature of the industry coupled with the private British sensibility creates an intensified contradiction in the relationship between couture and publicity. This means that ‘ordinary’clothing of exceptional quality and cut will never be seen by the public, whose consciousness British couture fails to permeate. This does not however, mean that beautifully crafted clothes are not produced in London as the resurgent House of Hardy Amies can testify to, it is more that it slips below our radar in a manner that the red carpet wear of Pariaisn couture does not.

The lack of prestige and publicity generated by British couture has also undermined the intake of a new generation of skilled workers in to the business. Ian Garlant discloses that the majority of his new staff emanate from Eastern Europe or Denmark, with very few British fashion students considering the career path of couture craftsmanship. The city which once produced finely skilled needle workers is no longer able to meet the labour demands. While it is true that couture workers will never join the ranks of the super rich whom they dress, it is a career which provides a job for life. One hope is that the exhibition will serve to remind London of its couture history and perhaps inspire more students and aspiring fashion designers to cherish its heritage and skills.

First printed in The Independent Saturday Magazine