Photography by Kacper Kasprzyk
Rick Owens is probably the only designer in Paris who can be classed as a genuine phenomenon. Although he is never seen in any act of socializing, commercial networking or frivolous appearance, he is always somehow at the top of the list. Fashion loves Owens, as do many men and women. He is a loyal servant of style, and his loyal customers grow wiser out of each collection every season. His furniture and garments recall elliptic, curving typography; Bauhaus; darkness. Every time I talk to him, it is a new experience. Teach me, Rick.
Motwary:
It’s been almost six years since we last spoke. What has changed since then?
Owens:
I suppose the most significant change has been our store expansion. Paris, London, New York, Tokyo. They all have a bunker-temple-leather bar vibe to them, and it is such a validation and a treat to see all the stuff we’ve produced together at the same time.
Motwary:
This was the second season I failed to get into your show even though I had a pass. It’s hysterical! It’s like a war outside. What is it about your label that drives all these people to madness (myself included)? Especially the young ones.
Owens:
I am entirely oblivious to that. I remember when I first started doing shows, I would be wandering around backstage feeling completely ignored because no one would ever look at me. Only later did I find out that everyone had been explicitly instructed not to look at me or disturb me. I just thought everyone was bored and hoping it would be over soon, so they could go home and watch TV. And when I get out from backstage after the show, everyone’s gone. If I didn’t see them on the backstage monitor and for the split second I walk out, I would suspect that no one had shown up.
Motwary:
I was waiting outside for my friends to leave the show when the models came out in their own clothes, one by one. They looked almost identical: an army of androids. What is your casting ritual?
Owens:
I like taking an idea and driving it to the ground. I like multiples, like a Donald Judd room or a flock of nuns, or an army, whose members are dressed and prepared to go to extreme lengths towards a unified, ideal goal. I like the heroism and, maybe, the delusional aspect of that.
Motwary:
You have been careful to keep a low profile all these years. Is it deliberate?
Owens:
Does it seem that way? I guess I am not that gregarious. I have to respond to a lot of people every day, so the rest of the time I enjoy having to myself.
Motwary:
I always wonder how it is possible for a designer like you, who doesn’t really do PR or advertising, to have such a devoted crowd of fans around the world. A friend once said, ”I could die for Owens.”
Owens:
I have strong partners who are extremely protective of the integrity of what we do, and talented in the commercial development of it. I am not that special! There are plenty of people who can design, but it’s the execution and delivery that count. And when I say the word “commercial” it’s a word I’m proud of. I love being able to corrupt things that people use every day; I see that as so much more hardcore than making things for one use only.
Motwary:
When do you think fashion changed the most, between the 1990s and the noughties, to develop a focus on menswear and what the modern man needs?
Owens:
I’d love to have a profound answer to that. I suspect that the women’s calendar just became oversaturated and men’s fashion was a place designers could have new adventures.
Motwary:
Do you collect other designers’ menswear?
Owens:
I don’t! I have this horrible feeling that I am so obsessed with trying to define my vision, even to myself, that I don’t have the patience for anyone else’s. Besides, I’m just not that into dressing myself. I have one outfit that I wear as a uniform. Like a servant. I think that working out is enough to satisfy my vanity completely.
Motwary:
I would love to know your views on Martin Margiela, or Yohji.
Owens:
I was a fan of both before I started and it moves me that I can be mentioned in the same area, albeit far below.
Motwary:
If the main target group of Rick Owens customers is between 25 and 35, what inspires you most?
Owens:
I wonder if the range might be a little older. I’m 49 now but my references aren’t that specific. Rationalism, discipline, collapse, purity, transgression, modesty, prurience… I like universal, almost biblical or operatic references… that anyone can relate to.
Motwary:
What do you think is so special about that age group?
Owens:
I can’t really tell how old anyone is any more.
Motwary:
What has your partner Michele Lamy passed on to you? And vice versa?
Owens:
Michele keeps me human. Where I can be pedantic and tediously pragmatic, she is all emotion, instinct and magic. She knows how to nurture and cultivate the various artistic temperaments it takes to get our furs or furniture done. I always think of her as my personal, beautiful witch. I just make sure I keep her perfume bottles tidy.
Motwary:
Aside from Michele, how many people are on your team?
Owens:
Administrative staff aside, I have one assistant for each of men’s, women’s, accessories and denim. I have a fur atelier of four. And two personal assistants.
Motwary:
How is the furniture going?
Owens:
I am going to New York next week for a furniture show I am having, called Pavane for a Dead Princess [after the 1899 Ravel piano piece]. It’s an installation of a room modeled after my bedroom in Paris, with a solid alabaster bed and a bronze and alabaster daybed. It all weights a couple of tones and may sink the boat it’s traveling on before it gets there.
Motwary:
The scene needs more people to go beyond what the world first knew them for. Otherwise, it will be like what’s happened to the gallery scene: much of it lost its relevance somewhere on the way. How do you think it’s possible to hold on to your identity in creation?
Owens:
The important thing is just to shut up and do your work. And do a lot of it. All the time. Your identity will emerge, for better or worse.
Motwary:
What does identity mean to you in the first place?
Owens:
I tend to look at “identity” as something that can be controlled, sculpted, improved. I am a big fan of self-invention. I’ve been clinical with mine.
Motwary:
So, after all these years, how is Paris treating you?
Owens:
I still haven’t learned French. It could take years to get beyond perfunctory, superficial dialogue and that’s not so motivating. I admit that not learning affords me one more layer of privacy. I enjoy floating through the city as a resident alien. Of course, in terms of work, Paris provides a pretty big platform to live up to. Being able to absorb the history of the arts here is probably as close to spirituality as I’ll ever get.
Motwary:
How do you work with your team? With your stylist Panos Yiapanis?
Owens:
Panos showed up at the first show and has been by my side ever since. We have three intense days together four times a year, kind of like a secret love affair. I’m pretty sure he is smarter than I am and I trust his gut reaction to something that I’ve been too close to, for too long, to see objectively. I think editing is everything. EVERYTHING. And if I had to figure out a line-up and rotations I’d cry.
Motwary:
What is the goal behind the Rick Owens brand, in terms of leveling the playing field between the collection, the boutiques, the retailers and the customers?
Owens:
I don’t know if we have a real strategy. It’s always been our goal to make something genuine, to present it and to try to have a nice life producing it. Believe me, I am as surprised as you are that we’ve made it this far!
Motwary:
How have you managed to remain an independent company all these years?
Owens:
I think we grew so gradually. We never needed to buy help to get us to a level that wasn’t accessible by just waiting. Frankly, we’re so niche, I don’t really know how desirable a company like this is for an investor that needs high performance. It really is a labour of love.
Motwary:
What is your beauty secret?
Owens:
I think genuine kindness makes anyone beautiful. I’m still working on it.
Motwary:
Your morals?
Owens:
I am high on the ones that I have come to believe count.
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Interview originally published in Dapper Dan, Issue 02, September 2010. Modeled by Fabien at MGM. Casting by AM Casting.