A Second Chance, but on His Own
by Cathy Horyn
It’s possibly no surprise that Vanity Fair’s John Galliano interview, by Ingrid Sischy, raises as many questions as it answers. Articles about addiction and atonement often strain for sympathy against the banality of the circumstances: a talented designer wrecks his career by behaving like an utter fool. At the time of Mr. Galliano’s dismissal from Dior, in 2011, for racist and anti-Semitic remarks, Michael Specter, who had once written an admiring profile of the designer in The New Yorker, offered one of the few sane views of his fall. He wrote: “His career, and his life, were built on twin pillars of excess and exhibitionism. He was a slave to addiction … But who could be shocked at his behavior? Who would have expected any other end?”
For the last year, a small group of fashion insiders has been helping Mr. Galliano to make amends and, maybe, restore his career. Jonathan Newhouse, who is Ms. Sischy’s boss at Condé Nast International, arranged meetings with Jewish leaders. Mr. Newhouse’s motives are exemplary. As he told Ms. Sischy: “My focus is not on his moral behavior but on my own. A person I care about was lost, sick, and in trouble. What kind of friend would I be if I turned my back on him?”
Oscar de la Renta also stuck his neck out, last January, inviting Mr. Galliano into his studio for three weeks of work. It’s clear that Mr. de la Renta was impressed by Mr. Galliano, as were members of his family, who had enough reason to be skeptical about bringing him in. And it’s no secret that Mr. de la Renta, 80, wants a succession plan at his company.
Yet there remains a curious shortage of goodwill toward Mr. Galliano, registered in the petitioning against him at Parsons this spring. It could be that people doubt his sincerity, and not unjustly when we learn from the article that he never gave an interview while sober. You can’t be too Pollyanna-ish about the fashion world, but that admission made me angry. Why had I wasted my time?
Personally, I think Mr. Galliano should be given a second chance, but maybe he should do it on his own. The fashion community has always shown a commendable willingness to help him out, with money and show spaces. They did so because he was talented and, despite the fact that he was apparently stoned, sweet-tempered. I remember his 1994 show in Paris at Sao Schlumberger’s mansion, with leaves scattered on the stone floor and the world’s top models dressed in black satin; it was dazzling.
But Mr. Galliano betrayed the trust of many people — his friends, his colleagues at Dior, journalists. That’s why it would be more meaningful if he started making dresses on his own, one at a time, on his dime. He would surely have clients, and it would tell me he was serious. One question the article doesn’t raise is whether his kind of fashion is still relevant. Two years before he was fired from Dior, people were complaining, often in print, that his clothes were out of date. O.K., maybe he was ill, but, beyond atonement, it’s a question that any businessman would have to ask.
At its best, Mr. Galliano’s fashion delivered an emotional punch. I was glad, and a little surprised, that Ms. Sischy singled out the spring 2006 show he did for his Galliano label, one that featured an incredible human parade — dwarfs, twins, cross-dressers, giants — and ended with a model playing with a marionette of Mr. Galliano. The puppet on a corporate string. Or so I read his intent. It’s the only time I have stood to applaud a designer, without waiting for the rest of the audience to join in, which it did not. Mr. Galliano acknowledged my gesture by stopping in front of me and giving a little bow.
And, by the way, he was not in his usual runway getup or mode. But, although Ms. Sischy characterized the show as “a joyous call to respect one another,” I don’t remember many people expressing joy. Quite the contrary. One French journalist thought the cast were “monsters,” but that seems his shortcoming.
Clearly Mr. Galliano’s behavior changed as his dependency on drugs and alcohol worsened. Reading Ms. Sischy’s article, I was struck by how detached he had become from reality. Backstage, he would have a group of people to help him — one to hand him a cigarette, another to light it. That’s just sad. But I wondered how such a detached individual could possibly make the emotional connections that were the hallmark of his designs.
That remains a valid question to ask in his recovery state. I truly hope he can be successful again in fashion, but I think he will need to show that he can do it on his own.
What were all the collections for? Surely the collections for Dior and John Galliano couldn't have added up to half that much.
