Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce. Photo: Maxim Blinkov/Shutterstock.com

Thursday 19th March 2015

Reap what you sew

The D&G farrago, and other HR challenges faced by fashion houses

The world of high fashion is not, it must be said, noted for being populated with level-headed types.

From Naomi Campbell hurling her mobile phone at passing staff, to starving stylists carting miniature Pomeranians about in their £15,000 Hermès Birkins, it’s an industry seething with what one’s grandmother might call ‘Real Characters’.

Given the notorious trickiness of the creative temperament, not to mention the difficulties inherent in letting predatory photographers loose on hordes of exquisite 16 year old Ukranian girls, it’s hardly surprising that haute couture fashion houses can be desperately in need of some sound HR advice.

Dolce and Gabbana

Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana founded the iconic Italian fashion house in 1985. Strangers to minimalism and restraint, they are known for a proliferation of animal prints (frequently in vivid hues to which nature is a stranger), corsets, encrustations of Swarovski crystals, and black lace.

Yet it would appear that the joie de vivre of their garments conceals a decidedly traditionalist – one might say ‘bigoted’, if pressed for an opinion – view of family life. Interviewed earlier this year for Italian fash mag Panorama, the pair declared: “We oppose gay adoptions. The only family is the traditional one. No chemical offsprings and rented uterus.”

This callous remark might have passed unnoticed had it not come to the attention of Elton John – who is, of course, happily married to David Furnish and the proud papa of two handsome boys, conceived via IVF.

The ensuing spat began on Instagram, and is perhaps the most entertaining thing to have ever happened on social media. Sir Elton retorted “shame on you for wagging your judgemental little fingers”, prompting an entire afternoon of Italianate hand-wringing on the part of Gabbana, accompanied by little collages of photographs from supporters.

Within 12 hours almost every newspaper in the world had covered the story, and the hashtag #BoycottDolceGabbana was doing the rounds (I am happy to report that I have been pre-emptively boycotting them for some 20 years).

A catastrophic example of what can happen with no HR/PR liaison on hand to ensure that all professional correspondence and media appearances align with the company’s equality and diversity policy.

Yves Saint Laurent

YSL is the quintessential French designer. His Le Smoking trouser suits for women – considered frightfully racy back in the day – revolutionised tailoring, and his Rive Gauche scent conjures the very epitome of Parisian chic.

Yves himself was a vulnerable and tempestuous character, whose wild public acclaim hid a tormented private life. His partner once famously declared that Yves had been ‘born with a nervous breakdown’. His tendency to succumb to conniptions at the drop of a (broad-brimmed, white felt) hat cannot possibly have been helped by early reports of his death in 1977.

In what constitutes every assiduous HR professional’s nightmare, the mistaken report got picked up by various newspapers, and before long the very much still living (but considerably more stressed) Saint Laurent had checked into a rehab facility. You can only imagine the kerfuffle involved in finding temporary cover for an acknowledged genius.

Dior

No-one ever put the ‘terrible’ into enfant terrible quite so forcibly as Dior’s head designer John Galliano (signature style: Captain Jack Sparrow dressed up as the Mad Hatter). In the course of a single evening he contrived to make every other fashion designer since Cleopatra commissioned a new wig look completely sane.

John Galliano. Photo: cinemafestival/Shutterstock

On the night before Paris fashion week in 2011, Galliano (presumably absolutely off his onion on something-or-other) approached a table of Italian diners and proceeded to let loose a stream of anti-Semitic vitriol. The incident was caught on camera, and an appalled House of Dior sacked him on the spot.

Dior of course must be applauded for acting so swiftly – and it’s mildly diverting to imagine the frantic phone calls that took place that night. A salutary lesson that when it comes to implementing policy, even the most senior recruits should come under scrutiny.

Calvin Klein

There’s something rather squeaky-clean about all-American fashion house Calvin Klein. For all their gigantic posters of Mark Wahlberg in his pristine Y-fronts, the name Calvin Klein conjures up linen shirts, cashmere sweaters, and tow-headed children running through fields of daisies while their wholesome mothers put on another spritz of Eternity.

It’s easy to forget that back in the 80s they were at the centre of a scandal which would have any HR official reaching for the Staff Handbook – not to mention government legislation on under-age employees.

A series of ads for their denim featuring a 15 year old Brooke Shields (and her eyebrows) deeply shocked conservative America – whilst also, of course, sending Calvin Klein into the fashion stratosphere.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that the model was underage, she pouted at the camera “Nothing comes between me and my Calvins”. Of course, there’s no suggestion that the ad campaign actually involved any impropriety, and from a PR perspective it was sheer genius.

But one can imagine the look of blind terror that entered the eyes of the poor HR official asked about whether Shields was actually on the payroll. An absolute minefield of regulation, legislation, and tight denim.

Seriously, literally everyone who has ever worked with Terry Richardson.

You might think you couldn’t identify the work of photographer Terry Richardson at fifty paces, but you’d be wrong. Richardson – who sports horrid aviator glasses and a red flannel shirt – uses an iconic over-exposed look in which non-professional models are shot using a very bright flash, and looking rather alarmed.

Richardson’s popularity reached its peak when he created the American Apparel campaigns. But it wasn’t long before his name became associated with a veritable tidal wave of accusations from models of coercive and sexually aggressive behaviour – and worse, which we shall discreetly brush over for the sake of our sensitive readers.

Richardson reportedly declared that he treats his models with ‘consideration and respect’, and so far as we are aware there have been no criminal proceedings brought.

There are ongoing calls to boycott Richardson – and indeed American Vogue (which presumably has an effective HR department) reported dryly that they had ‘no plans’ to work with him. But his continuing popularity is considered troubling in many quarters – and certainly suggestive of the fashion industry’s need to get its HR act together, and offer protection to vulnerable employees.

About the author

Sarah Perry

Sarah Perry writes for various publications including the Guardian, the Spectator and the Oldie. She has written on travel, food, law, politics, books, theatre, building insulation, religion, the Gothic, feminism and film. She has been a civil servant, a legal administrator, a university lecturer, a shop assistant and an artist's model.