Interview Magazine
By Stephanie Seymour Brant
Photography Craig Mcdean
At two in the morning, under a starlit Paris sky, I looked out across the courtyard in the Marais, and I could recognize the silhouette of my favorite friend-a man I have known intimately for so many years that I endearingly refer to him as Papa-the great designer Azzedine Alaïa. There he was in his atelier, as always, totally immersed in his work. His show was just days away, but you might see that silhouette there any night. He works whenever inspiration strikes.
I had just come from a dinner with Azzedine's usual eclectic mix of guests, which included some of the most creative people in Paris. He had arranged the seating and prepared the food himself-as with his collections, his hand was in every detail. When I'm in Paris, these dinners are the highlight of my visit. Staying Chez Alaïa reminds you of being at a large family house where conversation and the exchange of ideas are the order of the day-and the night.
Azzedine might be the designer who best understands a woman's anatomy, which makes sense because he also is a man who understands a woman's heart and soul. The poetry of Azzedine comes from the fact that he is always free. Buying back his name from the Prada Group in 2007, he formed a partnership with the Compagnie Financière Richemont which allows him to design his way-usually very late at night with an old film playing in the background. Azzedine is not only a great couturier, he is a historian of couture and he is now setting up a foundation to preserve his archives and his priceless haute couture collection.
Azzedine Alaïa is a classicist, possessing a total understanding of the architecture of the female form, of how to drape, and of how to use materials. He doesn't design for a season, he designs for a body. And he continually reinvents himself, always perfecting and improving on what he has done so brilliantly for a lifetime. I began collecting Alaïa when I started modeling for him as a teenager, and I own pieces that continue to astonish me every time I put them on. He even designed my wedding dress. I am honored that Azzedine entrusted me with this interview and that I can share with readers an intimate glimpse of a man who defines genius.
STEPHANIE SEYMOUR BRANT: Okay, Papa, I thought it would be good to start from the beginning. Tell me about growing up in Tunisia.
AZZEDINE ALAÏA: My grandfather in Tunisia was a police officer. He worked in the ID card department. When I didn't have school, he would take me to work with him. I would sit next to the woman who made the ID cards, and she always took three pictures of people. This woman would use a cutter-the photo-booth paper was very thick-then she'd glue and stamp one picture onto the passport, give me another to staple onto their police files, and the third one would be thrown away. I would gather these scrapped photos from the garbage, put them in an envelope, and organize them later at home. I separated the blonde women, the brunettes, the black women, and the men, too, into long hair, short hair, mustaches . . .
SSB: No, you didn't! [laughs]
AA: Yes. And during the week I'd take them out and sort through them. I had almost all of Tunis at home with me. I loved the Italian girls. When they came for their passport photos they had ringlets of hair and wore communion robes, so they were my favorite . . . Well, after the blondes. [laughs]
SSB: How old were you at the time?
AA: Ten years old. My grandfather also took me a lot to the cinema. One of his friends had a movie theater called Ciné-Soir. There were Egyptian films, Italian films . . . My grandfather would leave me in the theater, go to work, and come back at the end of the day. There was a café next to the theater, and he'd often play cards with his friends in the evenings while I watched all of the screenings.
SSB: So this is where you got your love of film. Who first influenced you to go into fashion?
AA: There was a woman in Tunisia called Madame Pinot. She was a midwife and had helped in the birth of my siblings and me. I assisted her. I helped women give birth to a lot of babies when I was very young. She's the one who first taught me fashion. And she enrolled me in the École des Beaux-Arts. She was very close with my parents and grandfather, and I'd spend weekends with her. On Saturdays we'd wander around together, and on Sundays she'd dress me up and take me to church. She and my grandfather were really the two most
important people in my development.
SSB: You were studying art at École des Beaux-Arts, not fashion. Is that right?
AA: Yes, I was studying sculpture.
SSB: So did you move to Paris to become an artist?
AA: No, I simply loved French culture. I learned French in Tunis, along with Arabic. I also learned French history. I knew the entire history of the kings of France. And I was fascinated by Versailles.
SSB: Were you already making clothes by the time you moved to Paris?
AA: Yes. During vacations from school I worked for a small dressmaker who had posted an announcement looking for someone to do finishing work. I actually went to see her for
my sister so she could have a job sewing at home. In the end my sister and I both would work on the oversewing at night and
I would bring the dresses back the next day.
SSB: What happened next?
AA: There was a big Tunisian family who had a palace in the Arab section. These two young sisters were always on the balcony and they would see me go by. One day they asked, "What are you doing at that dressmaker's?" I told them, "I am taking a job to buy charcoal and paper for school." The two sisters said, "Oh, we know a dressmaker who is making Dior copies here in Tunis. We will introduce you to her." I started learning from this woman. Then I met my best friend, Leila, whose mother had connections to clients of Christian Dior in Paris, and eventually someone asked if I could come work there. I got the job. But when I arrived, it was the end of the Algerian War. After five days there they said to me, "You can't work here any longer. You're a foreigner."
SSB: So you only worked at Dior for five days?
AA: Yes, just five. It was always women who ended up helping me. Madame Simone Zehrfuss took care of me. She was the wife of the famous architect [Bernard Zehrfuss] and she took me to her home. That day, Louise de Vilmorin, who ended up being extremely important to my future, was there. She was a writer, a kind of Cocteau. She was [André] Malraux's companion. She invited me to her home and there were suddenly so many interesting people.
SSB: De Vilmorin and Malraux were the crème de la crème of Paris. That's wonderful company. Is that really where you started to encounter the Parisian scene?
AA: Along with the help of Simone Zehrfuss, who translated as well as introduced me. So little by little, women who I dressed started to come to me. There were the Rothschilds, then all of the big families of Paris . . .