Remembering Louise Wilson
Under the soaring cupolas of London’s St Paul’s Cathedral, Professor Louise Wilson’s life was celebrated by those who loved her and a British fashion world that recognised her teaching skills.
Louise, partner Timmi Aggrey and Christopher Kane (centre)
Mower remembered “So many things,” including “Louise calling me into her office, where there was a young Scottish boy wearing a Versace neon-bright Medusa belt,” who was the young and unknown Christopher Kane. (He was unable to attend as his mother suddenly passed away.)
Alber Elbaz insisted that his tempestuous relationship with the Professor, who provided him and his company, Lanvin, with so many graduates, was “like a tango”, as the two danced to the same beat.
“When you tango, it is about trust – that is my definition of love,” the Paris-based designer said, adding that Louise’s single functioning eye was sharper than of those who had two.
Having been at the whipcrack of Louise’s rage when she disapproved of a review, or merely what I said about one of her students, I knew it was because this was a teacher who cared deeply about her work.
Victoria Beckham at the Louise Wilson memorial service
Kanye West at Louise Wilsons memorial service, London
I also had an opportunity to see the warmer side that her son Timothy, known as TG, spoke about, partly in his father Timmi’s words.
Less than a month before she died, I invited Louise to a lunch to celebrate the birthday of photographer Christopher Moore, who teaches students at Saint Martin’s. She, of course, was too busy – “Don’t save a space for me,” she insisted – but then turned up and with her big belly-laugh told us unprintable stories about the students.
Professor Jane Rapley, technically Louise’s boss, spoke about the “essence of Wilson”: “Always in black, with her beautiful hair, radiant skin, resonant voice and foul language.”
“I was going to say that she worked for me for over 20 years, but realised that this was completely delusional,” Rapley said. “She worked on her terms, with her passion and her standards.”
This “consummate educator” had become so globally legendary for sending her graduated students around the world, that today’s stars – from Victoria Beckham to Kanye West – showed up at St Paul’s, while Donna Karan, with whom Louise worked in New York in the 1990s, flew in to honour her.
“She embodied this building today – I could see her up there,” Donna said, gesturing towards The Bespoke Choir playing gospel music against the so-English choral team from St Paul’s who started the ceremony with ‘Amazing Grace’.
Behind this exceptional event of former students and the fashion industry coming out of respect and love, there is another, darker story.
While Natalie Massenet, in her leading role in the British Fashion Council, credited Wilson with creating the stars of London Fashion Week, Louise herself was possessed with anxiety, anger, and rage against the British government’s change of tuition fees.
A new policy demanded that students get deeply into debt, which theoretically they would later pay back. The result, Louise told me in one of her massive flare-ups, was that her beloved Saint Martin’s was filling up with “rich kids”, especially Asian families seeing British art and design education as a “finishing school”.
Louise knew that she could not take on her country’s entire government single-handed, although she would only have relished the fight.
Let’s hope that among the powerful and the respectful in the cathedral, there is someone left to fight that good fight – for the future of fashion in the UK and across the world.
For now, a fitting tribute and final flourish to Louise Wilson’s career will be on stage this evening, as the Central St Martins College of Art and Design presents the work of the last class of students who had the privilege to be chosen and mentored by her.
Фото: Getty Images