The Australian
LMOST every day for the past 60 years, master embroiderer and beader Francois Lesage has walked through the doors of his five-storey workshop in the heart of Paris. Even now, at 80, he finds himself working "six days a week, sometimes seven", to realise the most fantastical visions of fashion's greatest designers.
The House of Lesage, France's oldest embroidery establishment, creates exquisite embellishments for haute couture luminaries including Karl Lagerfeld at Chanel, John Galliano at Christian Dior, and Christian Lacroix, and that takes some time.
A single couture dress takes an average of 200 hours to make. If a designer wishes to use beading or embroidery, Lesage will first present a sample in keeping with the designer's brief, which alone can represent 20 to 30 hours of work and up to 50,000 stitches.
Delivering the finished garment to a client takes much longer.
The results are extraordinary: silk flower petals curled and dyed by hand; 250,000 sequins sewn on to a print of Vincent van Gogh's Irises for Yves Saint Laurent; an ice-castle image created entirely from thread and beading.
Lesage makes designer dreams a reality. As he charmingly puts it, "Fashion is like an ocean liner, this fabulous ship of travelling looks, and every morning there is a little boat that brings the flowers."
The bouquets of Lesage and a handful of other master artisans in Paris -- Massaro for shoes, Desrues the costume jeweller, Lemarie, a supplier of feathers and silk flowers, and the milliner Michel -- are what make the city the world's fashion capital.
"Paris is the only city in the world where you can click your fingers and a few hours later you can access all the artisan houses with their years of culture, archives and sensibilities," Lesage says.
Many examples of their work are a part of the largest exhibition of haute couture to come to Australia, which opened on Sunday at the Bendigo Art Gallery in Victoria. The Golden Age of Couture: Paris & London 1947-57 includes works from Dior, Cristobal Balenciaga, Hubert de Givenchy and Pierre Balmain, two of which feature Lesage embroidery and beading.
Lesage presides over a business that employs 60 women known as petites mains (tiny hands) and churns through 100 million sequins and 70kg of pearls each year. His role is not to sew but to realise what he calls "the fog in the brain of the designer".
In addition to understanding a designer's ideas and translating them into beads and stitches -- "Claude Montana was a great designer, but his sketches, they were an Egyptian hieroglyph" -- Lesage must deploy extraordinary diplomatic skills.
"Oof! After 60 years in fashion I could be an ambassador at the United Nations," he says of balancing competing designer egos and demands. That he has managed this well is clear from the fact Lacroix refers to him as "my godfather" and Lagerfeld admires him "for his exceptional intelligence, culture, creativity and speed".
Lesage has been running the business since 1949, when he inherited it on the death of his father, Albert.
"When I was 15 it was my responsibility to go around to all the fashion houses and ring the bell to ask for payment," he says. "Sometimes they were obliged to sell their paper patterns to pay the accounts."
From such hand-to-mouth beginnings, couture has grown into a multimillion-dollar business. There are said to be only a few hundred couture clients worldwide: estimates range from 300 to 1500, although the higher figure is almost certainly inflated.
These are clients who are willing and able to pay upwards of $US150,000 (about $230,000) for an evening gown and $US25,000 for a day suit. Couture exists as the world's most glamorous loss leader.
Once the preserve of the wealthiest (and thinnest) women in the world, couture is now all about catwalk and celebrity moments (Nicole Kidman on the red carpet in a Chanel couture dress, Lily Allen at the MTV Awards in vintage Dior), which houses then use to sell perfumes, make-up and handbags to the masses. "It's still about the dream that few people can afford, but everybody now, even people who are common, they can buy a little bottle of (Chanel) No5," Lesage says.
He is sanguine about the mass marketing of what was once a rarefied art form, perhaps because, as it happens, his career began in Hollywood when he travelled there at 20. Working on Sunset Boulevard, he added the final touches of sparkle and sequins to the gowns of Lana Turner, Marlene Dietrich and Ava Gardner.
"It is normal to have nostalgia about working with a lady like Lana Turner, but I fight against it," he says. "We don't have the time to be depressed, we are at the service of fashion and have to follow the new tendency. We must be of today."
Despite his forward thinking, Lesage came close to closure when the 1991 Gulf war sharply diminished his core customer base of Middle Eastern royalty. "The Kuwait war was a disaster," he says, as it reduced couture clients "by at least 100".
Chanel chairwoman Francoise Montenay, in whom he confided his concerns at a dinner also attended by his fellow master craftsmen, turned out to be Lesage's saviour. "She loved our craft houses, so she asked me, 'Monsieur Lesage, what do you think will happen with the couture?' I said it would last only as long as we (were) there."
Chanel purchased all five artisan houses in 2002 and now produces regular collections specifically to showcase the creativity of each workshop. The dream factories are profitable once more because of the emergence of new luxury markets for couture.
"With the development of India, China and Russia, already there is more demand," Lesage says. "Although the Russians are more for ready-to-wear."
The way couture clients shop also has changed with the times, thanks to the increased speed of travel and the immediacy of the fashion media, particularly online, which disseminates images of the collections.
"The ladies used to take the (ocean liners) Queen Elizabeth or the Normandie to Paris and arrive at 10.30am for coffee," Lesage says. "They would go to day wear, cocktail wear and evening wear fittings over one week, then wait another five weeks to have the dresses ready. But now in couture the customer wants the dress in 10 days and that's a big problem for us.
"Progress is about faster, faster, but with handwork you cannot make it faster."
What has not changed are his longstanding and often personal relationships with designers. Of the many competing for his attentions, Lagerfeld, whom he describes as possessing "the fabulous quality of Karl", would appear to be his favourite.
"He is really the Kaiser," Lesage says, referring to the German-born designer's nickname and his reputation for demanding perfection. "Really, he is an exceptional man. He came (to Chanel) in 1982, that is 27 years. To keep Chanel moving with the creativity he has, well, it's extraordinary."
Madeleine Vionnet is also remembered fondly -- unlike today's designers, "she made the dress to the (Lesage) samples, not the other way around" -- as is Saint Laurent, who "used to stand in the workshops smoking cigarettes, watching everything we did". Lesage is less enamoured of Galliano, who he claims once referred to "the constipated embroidery of Lesage" in a newspaper interview.
"It was not a good start," Lesage says. "Several weeks later he arrived in the workshops wearing his little bandanna and he asked where the toilet was. I said there is no toilet because we are constipated."
Even if relationships with designers are sometimes fraught, the connections are what Lesage treasures most about his work.
"To be in complicity with the designers, that is the thing," he says. "The haute couture will still be there as long as we both will be there."