Tributes to Yves Saint Laurent
Innovator, enfant terrible, tortured genius - the late designer's influence is celebrated by fashion's gliterati
NAOMI CAMPBELL My mentor
The first time I met him I was 16. I went to the salon. I was nervous. They put me in the uniform that all models wore for fittings: white coat, red lipstick, black stockings and black heels. I was told never to speak to him directly as he wasn’t very well, but he would ask me, “Do you feel good?” and I would answer him. Everyone was nervous, because if he booked me, if he loved me, then that was it. I was so shy. I was the baby of Saint Laurent commercial, and I did all the ads with Gian Paolo Barbieri and Helmut Newton for years. I don’t think I would have had so many opportunities without him. And it was not just for me, but women of colour: he was the first designer to put us on the runway. There have been so many amazing models, including Katoucha Niane, who have died this year.
I was lucky to meet him outside work, too. We met in Tangier at a friend’s house. At first, I didn’t know what to say to him, but we would share private jokes. He was extremely shy, so he communicated with his eyes. They were so gentle, you felt you could talk to him and he would be approachable. When we did the last show, in 2002, I didn’t cry, because I knew I would see him again. I said to the other girls, “Don’t cry. He’s not leaving us. You can go and visit him in Morocco.”
At that very last show, I wore one outfit from 1969, then outfits that I had modelled in his shows in the past 10 years. I was terrified I wouldn’t fit into them, but he gave me confidence. During the couture show, he would always give one girl a special heart, a ruby. You wore it under your clothes, like a lucky charm. I got one once. It was a privilege. I was also allowed to smile on the runway, and he always sent me out alone. He would make me special one-off dresses, many of which I still have. I took my Saint Laurent tuxedo out of my archive only two months ago.
It is strange for me to be working with the house again after all these years, but Stefano Pilati, the new designer, is amazing. There couldn’t be a better person at Saint Laurent now. Yves was a genius. He invented modern fashion. It was a privilege to know him.
DAPHNE GUINNESS My fashion revolutionary
Yves kept androgyny on the right side of femininity, with a lightness of touch that made men’s tailoring effortless for women. He was a quiet and gentle colossus, a unique master craftsman, of whom there are very few. He was more than a designer. He was an artist, taking the feeling of the time and shifting it up a gear. He turned politics and feminism into art. After May 1968, with the political uprisings and the shift in social attitudes, he expressed it all in something elegant and he did it with effortless grace. He caused a revolution for four decades.
CLAUDIA SCHIFFER My couturier
I first met Yves in the early 1990s. He was very humble, very shy, very quiet, very gentle and had wonderful manners. It was an honour to be part of his fashion show and have a one-on-one fitting. It was very intimate: a lot of fashion houses have a large entourage, but he had few people there, not speaking, waiting for him to say something and then listening in awe. Often, people come to the house to watch the collection before it goes on the catwalk — editors, muses and so on — but this was a really tiny group of people. It was quite different, and I loved it.
TOM FORD My business hero
Yves not only had great intuition about fashion, he was also a great businessman. He and Pierre Berge pioneered the structure of contemporary fashion houses when they introduced ready-to-wear and licensed products. Contrary to the image that Yves created, I always found him to be very quick when it came to business and to have an intuitive compass that always led him in the right direction. He could also be very warm and quite adorable when he wanted to be. I have enormous respect for him and I’m sad that he is no longer in our world.
ALEXANDER McQUEEN My inspiration
To me, fashion should predict the time we live in. He did this in the 1960s and 1970s. Pure genius, and a man that I always revered and tried to emulate.
MANOLO BLAHNIK My friend
I was at a party in Paris in a beautiful garden. It was 1973, and I had just launched my first collection. Loulou de la Falaise was wearing a pair of my satin shoes with big buckles. He called her over, very excited. “Loulou! Luly!” he said. “This is the most perfect shoe I have ever seen.” It was a huge compliment. I was moved to tears, as this was coming from the god, from the master. He was very shy, but when he was happy with the people around him, he was heaven. He was always surrounded by women: Loulou, Betty Catroux. They were beautiful. It looked effortless, but it wasn’t. We talked a lot about colours. He would say: “Yes, yes. I saw a beautiful colour.” He got very excited when he saw one of my friends wearing the brightest red lipstick. “Isn’t she fabulous?” It is a great honour to have known him.
LOULOU DE LA FALAISE My charge
Yves was very complex. He went from giggles to despair. He was not very good at communicating conversationally, which could be quite crippling for others. He inspired one to protect him from the hazards of ordinary life. There was a live wire of pain in him that provoked very emotional reactions to his couture and ready-to-wear shows. Most people, including us, backstage, would cry at the end. He was very moving, and commanded gentleness, admiration and a total eagerness to comply. He was always right in his professional choices, such as fabrics, and would prove it if confronted by the least resistance. He was also always looking for creative participation, approval and enthusiasm. Working for him was never dull. It was often great fun and sometimes most dramatic. He was a rare and exceptional person with a very powerful aura.
