It is hard to believe that Fashion Fringe is entering its fifth year. In that
time, the catwalk competition, judged during London Fashion Week, has more
than fulfilled its mission to uncover and nurture new design talent.
The track record speaks for itself. The previous winners, Basso & Brooke
(2004), Erdem (2005), Gavin Douglas (2006) and Aminaka Wilmont (2007), are
all successfully established on the international fashion scene. This year,
the competition was reinforced with a new shoe category — won by the budding
footwear designer Liam Fahy in June — after the heel king Rupert Sanderson
asked Fashion Fringe to find him an apprentice.
The four 2008 contenders, whose work is showcased on these pages, are not just
fighting for the prestige of winning, but the priceless mentoring and expert
advice that comes with it. It is this that makes Fashion Fringe different
from other design prizes and ensures that winners have success programmed
into the DNA of their fledgling businesses.
Over the past five years, the competition has gained support from some of
fashion’s most high-profile power players. Net-a-porter.com bought Wilmont’s
designs hot off the Fashion Fringe catwalk last year, and now Donatella
Versace is honorary chairwoman, replacing Tom Ford. The Italian designer
this year invited all four finalists to her headquarters in Milan. They sat
front row at her menswear show, partied at the Versace palazzo and toured
her design studios. She will be heading the panel at the final next month,
alongside Vogue’s fashion director, Lucinda Chambers; Natalie Massenet of
Net-a-Porter.com; Ann Pitcher, the Selfridges buying director; Jonathan
Akeroyd, the CEO of Alexander McQueen; the designer Roland Mouret; Roy
Peach, of the London College of Fashion; and the Fashion Fringe founder,
Colin McDowell. May the best designer win.
Sarah Easom
Softly spoken, with her eyes partly hidden behind a heavy fringe, Sarah Easom,
27, likes to let her clothes do the talking. Or should that be the shouting?
The RCA graduate is not interested in making quiet pieces. Using her own
hand-drawn prints as a starting point, she aims to make wholly original,
extrovert clothes. “I want to capture a spirit of something really upbeat
and fun,” she explains. “I want my clothes to say something, because a lot
of clothes today don’t say anything — you could appreciate them for their
beauty or for their cut, but they don’t scream.” Easom’s radicalism is
refreshing. She draws inspiration from two of fashion’s most unconventional
dressers, the Italian fashion writer Anna Piaggi and the English raconteur
Quentin Crisp. “I’m hoping to re-create something of their aura. I like the
idea that you can be bold and stand out, but be really subtle as well,”
Easom says. The designer knows what she’s talking about: she wore one of her
own bright yellow jackets to meet Donatella Versace in Milan. “You get
looked at quite a bit,” she admits. “But that’s part of the attitude when
you wear something that isn’t out there already.” While she accepts her take
on fashion isn’t for everyone, she says: “I don’t mind the stares. A strong
woman wouldn’t mind. I don’t think most women would: we do like to be looked
at.”
Dress, above, by Sarah Easom. Boots, £450, by Chloé. Ring, £140, by Pebble;
020 7262 1775
William Tempest
William Tempest began making clothes at 15 — and we have Style’s fashion
commentator Colin McDowell to thank for it. “I bought the John Galliano book
that Colin wrote and I thought, ‘Wow, that looks amazing,’ ” he says. He
channelled his amazement by hitting the sewing machine hard, making clothes
for himself and his friends. He left school to start a fashion course at his
local college in Cheshire, and from there, went to the London College of
Fashion. He then completed a long internship at Giles Deacon and a stint at
Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, where he made a stage costume for Madonna. His
fashion icons include Eartha Kitt and Charlotte Rampling. Of the latter, he
says: “She has rejected the Hollywood mainstream; her roles are subtle. She
is aware of her sexuality and knows how to use it.” Unlike many of London’s
new designers, he is left cold by the capital’s heady club culture. “A lot
of people there want to be in fashion but don’t have the skills to back it
up.” Not a charge you could level at Tempest: he relished the technical
challenges involved in making his heavily corseted, 1940s-inspired
collection, and, at 22, he has already launched his own label.
Go by a Secret Path
Eun Jeong Hong, born in South Korea, comes from a fashion family. Her parents
are in the textile business, her sister is studying at the London College of
Fashion and her brother runs his own label in Hong Kong. After finishing her
MA at Central Saint Martins in 2002, she headed back to Seoul to start a
label herself. Despite its success, she missed London, so she shut up shop
and moved back to the UK to start Go by a Secret Path. “I spent my twenties
here studying and I feel more comfortable here,” the 32-year-old explains.
“It’s the second country in my life.” Her collection is made entirely of
white cotton lace. “It’s usually used on collars or as a trim,” says Jeong
Hong, who instead layers it in strips and drapes it on the body to create
dramatic, twisting, organic shapes. “I don’t want the lace to be girlie
because I don’t wear girlie clothes,” she says — and her intriguing
silhouettes are certainly more powerful than pretty. They work as statement
pieces: the tops, worn with simple skinny trousers, are possible
alternatives to an evening dress. “People have said you could wear them as a
wedding dress, too,” she says.
LF Markey
Louise Markey loves minimalism, but she admits to having a messy bedroom. Her
approach to fashion is similarly contradictory. “I do have a signature look:
it’s about sportswear mixed with high-end things,” says the Sydney-born
graduate of Central Saint Martins. “I take inspiration from modernist
design, but I also look at folk art and historical garments,” she says — as
evinced by the pictures of Elizabeth I pinned to the walls of her studio.
The brightly coloured, sculpted miniskirts and fitted bodices in her
collection look like sexed-up, space-age versions of Tudor costumes. As well
as fusing the modern with the historical, Markey plays with the concepts of
rich and poor. Skirts made of duchess satin are worn with ribbed cotton
vests, and the wrist cuffs her models sport on the catwalk look like
corrugated cardboard cast in gold.
For Markey, 27, the highlight of the competition has been the mentoring she
has received from the industry’s top professionals. “To start something like
this without it would be difficult,” she says. On meeting Donatella Versace,
Fashion Fringe’s honorary chairwoman, Markey says: “She’s a legend. It’s
surreal to meet someone like that. Flashing forward 20 years, you could
possibly imagine coming near that level of success.”
