September 20, 2023 |
Whether due to the world’s new favourite scapegoat, the pandemic, or invisible insidious forces, the fashion landscape has become almost impossible to traverse for those from marginalised backgrounds. The number of working-class people in the arts has halved since 1970, and despite the social justice protests that erupted around the world in 2020 marginalised people still face a struggle to be seen and heard in the fashion industry.
While netizens, both well-meaning and disingenuous, wage war on social media against nepo babies – a group who will always be represented within creative industries – the system remains unchanged, leaving tomorrow’s McQueen and Westwood on the outside looking in. Grants are gone, tuition fees are eye-watering and independent magazines, platforms that both support and spotlight these talents, are rapidly disappearing. “All these tiny infrastructural changes have completely intoxicated the art world with only people who have famous parents,” says Betsy Johnson.
The Grimsby-born creative director, or better, fashion polymath – her craft spanning styling, photography, casting and creative consulting – is familiar with the struggle of grafting for an “in” while feeling like an outsider. For Johnson, this moment unexpectedly came when the rest of the industry ground to a halt in 2020. “Nobody knew what to do because resources were so limited, but I was so used to doing shoots remotely from Grimsby when I couldn’t afford to take the train and making something from nothing, so it all worked to my advantage,” she explains. “Within two weeks I was making custom Balenciaga looks for dolls for a shoot in New York, but from my parents’ tiny kitchen.”
Yes, dolls. It’s the perfect summation of Johnson’s left-field gaze: bizarrely British, playful (think models transformed into fashionable furniture) and political, where contemptuous figures such as Margaret Thatcher, Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage are reimagined as Halloween characters donning Balenciaga, Gareth Pugh and Miu Miu. But it’s never that serious. “Sometimes my ideas say nothing and everything all at the same time,” she jokes. “We’re not saving lives.”
It’s around this time that Johnson’s vision captured the attention of disgraced rapper Kanye West, who tapped her creative direction for his Donda tour, which is still being planned, then selected her to lead the Yeezy Gap Engineered by Balenciaga project in 2022. “It was really reassuring to know that if you stick to your wild ideas, even if no one else wants them, then eventually, at some point, the right person finds you and opportunities will present themselves.” Now orbiting the Balenciaga universe at the height of Demna’s 2021 renaissance, Johnson (arriving late) stole the show, posing on the SS22 fashion show/red carpet in a hulking faux-fur coat.
“I still feel completely like an outsider,” she says, not wanting to get caught up in the hype. “So many people would die to be in this position, probably for the wrong reasons. I tune in a little bit for the frivolity and absurdity.” It’s a balancing act she describes as her “PayPal era”, funding personal projects with bigger-budget jobs that are now available to her. “It’s about biding my time, to really be able to get to the position of enacting the changes I want to see in the world around me.” The first step towards Johnson’s fashion utopia is her reclaiming working-class culture, her culture, a heritage that has been plundered and commodified for years until the collective focus shifted towards “quiet luxury”. Enter: Products by Betsy Johnson, the culmination of her career of brand consulting and a lifetime of lived experiences alchemised into the creative’s first solo outing.
“I’ve designed behind people for so many years and there’s so much safety in sitting on the bench versus having to step into your own and put your own name on the door,” she says. “To release something under my own name, I needed to go back to my repertoire and understand how I felt about fashion and what it means to me.”
At first glance, the debut is what you might expect a collection created by Betsy Johnson to look like – mostly monochromatic, Frankenstein-esque silhouettes – but the devil is in the details, drawing unexpected inspiration from Princess Diana and Queen Elizabeth II. It’s through these dualities that we see how Johnson views the commodification of her identity, seamlessly blending what might appear to be incongruous identities (rich/ poor, sophisticated/trashy, sexy/ demure, masculine/feminine) with culture vultures, and doing so with ease. The collection’s crown jewel is a gown made entirely of football shirts, its bustle looking like a discarded heap you might find in the corner of Grimsby Town FC’s changing room.
“This originally started out as a conversation around the idea of [a product] commodifying itself and the over-commercialisation of fashion,” explains Johnson. “It’s the only sphere where you have to think about the consumer versus just being able to create, which I find really interesting, and it’s had so many of my clients in a chokehold.” In case you missed the point, the collection’s only print – the words “Stay Commercial” printed over and over again – says the quiet part out loud.
Remaining local, Johnson chose her hometown as the backdrop for the line’s campaign, teaming up with collaborators Raphael Bliss and Éamonn Freel as well as taking the opportunity to nurture local talent. “It feels good being able to bring it all back,” she says. “I used a local make-up artist who’d never done a photoshoot before and a local assistant who wanted to get into fashion. It was such a mash-up of characters. My mum helped me with the wigs, too, so it was really special.”
To pin hopes of upending the fashion system with a single collection would be naive, but, for Johnson, Products is just the beginning. Looking beyond its launch in October, her mind is already awash with possibilities. “Next year, I really want to do… I’m obsessed with objects,” she says with a slight tease in her voice.
As the physical manifestation of her wider purpose, her art is a tool to empower fellow creatives to stop politely waiting to be invited in; instead, she is urging them to kick down the door to announce their arrival.
“I used to protest a lot when I was at uni, but I realised that banging on the edge of the glass was never going to make any change. It only happens from the inside,” she explains. “We need to mobilise and find people who are in power who can really start to make infrastructural, rather than superficial, change. It’s not just about people in front of the camera, but behind the scenes and in boardrooms. There’s got to be people arguing with the people in positions of power in art and fashion.”
Sure, it sounds simple enough, but even now at her current influence level Johnson is grafting harder than ever – a tip she passes on to those who want to follow in her footsteps, or better, forge a path entirely their own. “I’ve had so many ‘no’s, I’d like everyone to know that. It’s as typical as people say and you really do get so many rejections, but if you’re able to step into a space and show people stories about the problems within it, that’s something I find really interesting.
“More people with something to say need to stop getting distracted by front row crap and really start to pull up their sleeves and strategise about getting into the rooms where they can actually make a difference,” she concludes. “The more we do that as a community of people who have impact, the more beneficial it will be on a wider level. Things need to change now, otherwise they will perpetuate for another 10 years.”
Taken from issue 71 of 10 Magazine – FASHION, ICON, DEVOTEE – on newsstands now. Order your copy here.
Photographer LUKE ABBY
Fashion Editor and Talent BETSY JOHNSON
Text DOMINIC CADOGAN
Fashion assistant CHARLES BEUGNIOT
All products BETSY JOHNSON
Clothing BETSY JOHNSON BY UY STUDIO
Shoes BETSY JOHNSON BY GIABORGHINI
