Reaching the
Inner Sanctum of
Rick Owens
by Nabil Aliffi and Clifford Loh
A discreet entrance in the heart of central Paris led the way to Rick Owens’ abode,
his hideout in the days surrounding Paris Fashion Week. Against the Haussmann-style facades of nearby government buildings and the general French opulence of
the 7th arrondissement, Owens’ Parisian residence-cum-studio could not have been
more contrasting—a stark concrete bunker, save for subtle flourishes. A set of Art
Deco double doors at the height of a flight of stairs marked the gateway into the
designer’s inner circle. Past the entrance, important objets d’art, next season’s rails
and a team of dedicated staff dotted the path to the patio where we were told to wait.
In the Sunday breeze, this side of the apartment seemed especially welcoming, its
informality apt for the personal conversation that was about to ensue. Our minds
rattled with a confluence of expectation-versus-reality conundrums as we tried to
visualise the impending exchange with fashion’s ultimate cult figure.
With the men’s S/S 16 show having concluded less than 24 hours ago, Twitter was
still ablaze with retweets of the political stunt pulled during the show by Jera Diarc,
Rick Owens’ long-time muse. The German model had marched down the catwalk
with a hand-written note that read “Please Kill Angela Merkel, Not”. It took social
media by storm and conjured something for keyboard warriors to sink their teeth into.
But the waves of the runway scandal never made it into the house. Rick Owens’
Brutalist sanctuary is made of thick walls, and the air that it frames is one of ascetic
tranquility. That day was business-as-usual.
The short wait was interrupted by a bright Californian accent. “Hi Guys!” quipped
Owens, decked in his uniform: a soft grey knit, black shorts over tights, and his
Drkshdw high top Ramones. A genuine smile segued into a firm handshake. Any
presupposition we might had have of a distant, perhaps aloof cult leader quickly
dissipated with Owens’ warm, magnetic presence.
In fact, a courteous attempt at skirting around the topic of Jera’s faux pas proved
futile as Rick dived into the topic and addressed it head-on. As the interview
progressed, it became clear that Owens thrives on challenging any common
preconceptions about him or his world. Citing diametrically opposite forces as the
fuel to his creative process—evidenced ultimately by the partnership between him
and Michele Lamy (his better half)—Rick Owens straddles a fine line on which he
builds his universe. Amidst the multiple projects that add to the momentum of his
brand, Owens attributes his success to one monolithic vision: at the heart of it all is
“kindness”, he said. The key to his long-standing sacred sanctum is as profoundly
simple as that, although there is a caveat, “I think my world is very easy to enter, but
I tend to wander away from it every do often.”
"It reminds me not to take myself too seriously because I'm just one tiny speck in this huge picture of evolution. All I'm doing is contributing a little bit of energy."Rick Owens
R: This collaboration is great because we're having a very productive, industrious
period. It's nice to have an excuse to document and mythologise it.
V: It's like an anthropological project.
Yes, very much. That's exactly how I'm looking at it, with the diagrams and
everything—it's very scientific.
We've had a look at most of the images from the curation, so we're in the process of
decrypting it. What is the thread that ties it all together?
I think it's Monumentalism.
When I put an outfit together, the issues I think about come from various places. For
example, the sneakers are my version of what the ramones wore. Alternatively, it
could be something monastic, maybe a turtleneck cashmere sweater that Juliette
Greco would have worn in the 1950s.
Generally, I like to think of the clothes in a bigger perspective, rather than of their
significance right at the present moment. When I use these references, I can think of
myself as part of this huge, huge historical picture instead of just what's happening
this year. This makes me feel part of something more eternal.
Something more permanent?
Yes, but at the same time, it makes me feel insignificant. It reminds me not to take
myself too seriously because I'm just one tiny speck in this huge picture of
evolution. All I'm doing is contributing a little bit of energy.
At some point now, I suppose we're going to talk about my Men's S/S 16 show and
the protestor.
When I saw him, immediately I was pissed off because I felt that that was my scene
and he was stealing my spotlight. That initial reaction may have been vanity, but as I
gave it more thought, I realised what it was that really infuriated me: it's always been
important to me that my shows deliver some kind of positive message about
humanity; something about kindness, inclusion, tolerance, beauty.
His protest just messed everything up. It might have been funny, except that it was a
death threat, which really isn't funny at all. Otherwise I would have laughed it off as
just some great, male fashion drama.
The other problem is that after this debacle, my next show, for the women's line,
which I have planned to be a little more extreme, is just going to seem like a stunt.
His protest has stained the purity of what I am trying to achieve.
I think that people are going to come to the next show with a slightly different
attitude. If not for this guy, they would been more open; they would have come
thinking that whatever extreme thing Rick Owens does, it is going to be done in a
loving way. Now, there's an element of comedy that has just besmirched everything.
But then again, maybe that's just my opinion today. Maybe two weeks from now it'll
all just blow over.
Yes, I'm sure. And it was a fantastic show.
It was, I liked it. Honestly, I'm not that upset, but it's made me analyse things in a
different way.
Another big message I have with my shows is that everybody, absolutely everybody
on the planet can be wildly attractive. You don't have to possess standardised
beauty. As long as you have an open heart and an easy laugh, you can be beautiful.
We wanted to talk about spaces. As of now, you have got quite a lot on your
plate—you have the apartment in Concordia, your Hong Kong store, so what is
motivating this spurt of energy?
I don't know if undertaking all these projects at the same time was really all that
deliberate.
It just happened that they all fell together. Opportunities arose and we took them,
and it's just one of those moments which everyone hopes for—to have things going
well and to be able to express yourself in as thorough a way as possible. It's a
fantastic situation that I don't really think was willed into being. It is just investment
and momentum that has snowballed in the most wonderful way.
You seem to always have had a place within architecture. When I look at your
clothes, I almost intuitively imagine the space that they live in. There is something
about your world that transports people into a very specific, monolithic space. How
does architecture inform your work?
I love looking at interiors. I feel like people express themselves so much more
profoundly and accurately in interiors rather than in clothes because they don't
change so often. There is a sense of permanence, meaning that you have to really
decide what your message is and commit to it, whereas in fashion, the sincerity can
be questionable.
Even for me, every season, I have to ask myself, "Do you really believe in this?" For
clothes, there is just a lot to produce. Quantitatively, there is a lot to achieve so you
find yourself moving at a certain pace. You can't evaluate everything independently
or isolate every element, which means that you're engaged in more of a rolling-along
process. This forces you to look at the whole picture.
That is why I always have to ask myself, "Am I being influenced by the customers
that come into the store? Am I being influenced by my assistants, my partners, or by
Michele?"
How do I shut all of that off and make something that I really want to make? I know it
sounds like I have already analysed this and that I know what I need to do, but it still
isn't easy to accomplish. It requires a certain amount of concentration to isolate your
thoughts, so even up till now I'm not really convinced I've got it.
A lot of people describe your aesthetic vision as Brutalist.
Mhm, and I'm glad. I kept using their word over and over again so much so that it
became my thing. If you insist on something long enough, people will believe you.
Also, it's good because it has allowed me to distance myself from the goth thing.
We saw a Saarinen chair in the images you put together, and we understand he was
a source of inspiration to the architect, Frank Lloyd Wright and Art Deco—do you
relate to that world at all?
I love Brutalism, but I love Art Nouveau too. Art Nouveau is so sentimental, so
incredibly sentimental and shamelessly so. We live in era of irony and sarcasm so
when I see something so sentimental, it's very appealing.
That being said, I only love seeing Art Nouveau with a lot of space around it—like
maybe a fancy little flower in a big white room. I couldn't live in a complete Art
Nouveau-dictated environment because that would just be a little too literal.
What are you guys shooting today?
Town and Country Magazine. Isn't that strange? But then again, I've always liked the
publication, they have this old-money, old-family vibe. There is actually a very
puritanical, conservative streak in me that I really appreciate and respect.
I assume that they are just using me as a kind of colourful novelty, but that's fine. I
still think the collaboration works because we have a lot of clothes that might actually
suit their readers. Also, it's not like we are freaks that they picked up from the street.
There are many similarities between their world and mine; it is crazy but it also
makes sense at the same time.
Sometimes, people think that I'm like some kind of terrorist but in reality, a lot of the
values that we have at the brand are quite conservative.
How so?
I propose a world that is very discreet. You wouldn't guess it from my shows but I
think if you go to Mount Street, you will experience a discreet, quiet atmosphere
where politeness and kindness are paramount. All of our staff, all of the people on
this team are very loving and calm.
That is true—I've observed that when I've visited the store. However, the spaces
also seem to feel quite emotionally charged and provocative—how do you do that?
Oh, I don't know.
Maybe that's the whole enigma.
Well, there's definitely a sense of theatre. It's opera, it's all opera and that is actually
something that we might have in common with these Town and Country readers. I
was raised on opera and let me tell you this: sometimes the stories in opera are just
the dumbest.
However, there is also a pursuit of beauty in each and every show. It's always an
attempt to reach a level that is on a higher emotional, spiritual plane than people are
usually at.
Would you call that transcendence?
Yes, exactly that. Transcendence is the basis of all operas. A lot of the time, it is a
state that is impossible to attain so it's a matter of hitting that last beautiful note and
just 'dying'.
Do you feel that about your collections? Is every show a similar attempt to hit that
final note?
I don't know. I'm not very tortured. I'm quite a practical person. After a show, I do
obsess over the mistakes, but I also see the whole picture. I don't feel like I ever take
big risks because I always plan ahead and I don't do last-minute changes.
To the outsider, there seems to be a rather impermeable inner sanctum, layers you
have to peel before reaching the Rick Owens world. Do you consciously divide
between private and public life?
Oh, no. I don't really have a public life. There may be a perception of a division, but
there really isn't. I'm on the metro every day, going to the gym.
Taxis make me crazy. I'm only ever on the metro or in a car with a driver. When you
get into a taxi, you're going into someone's personal fart space and you can't get out.
At least in the metro, you can change your mind and surface or move into another
part if somebody's armpit in is in your face.
Do you feel like you let people in easily?
Well, I don't know. Politeness can also be a defense. I don't engage with people that
easily.
On a day-to-day basis, there are so many conversations that I must have and so
many people to talk to, so I tend to over-saturate. It doesn't help that I'm not naturally
a very gregarious person. That is why I take a nap around 1 or 2 p.m., every single
day. My day is scheduled around that nap. It is something of a temporary suicide. It's
escaping from everybody and everything—I just can't deal with that much
engagement. So to answer your question, I think my world is very easy to enter, but I
tend to wander away from it every so often.
I was just looking at the floor plan of your new apartment. It looks fantastic; the gym
is so big. How do you share the space with Michele? Do you have separate areas?
Oh yes. That's become trickier as the years have gone on because now we aren't as
concerned with the survival of the brand as we had been. When you aren't so
concerned with survival, you are able to pursue the luxury of something else. For us,
that luxury is self-expression and a differing definition of beauty from the
mainstream.
What other changes have occurred?
Well, the art pieces that we get are now a lot bigger, though to be honest, I can't
really tell the difference. I can't tell the difference between half a million and two
thousand euros. It's just all a lot. Michele always says, "You always say you never
buy a lot, but you just buy huge things that cost.”
What was your last big-ticket purchase?
An apartment in the Lido.
Was that the one that was a nightmare to build? With the permits?
They're all nightmares to build. Our properties include this place that we are currently
at, an apartment at the Concordia, and one at the Lido. I actually gave up on this one
so it was actually more of Michele's domain.
We've had a certain amount of conflict these past few years on the apartments,
which made me realise that spatially, we want really different things. Michele wants a
certain amount of chaos and fluidity whereas I want resolution.
I want the straightest line between point A and point B, and I want to get there as
efficiently as possible. Michele leaves point A but she couldn't care less whether she
arrives at point B. It's all about the journey there, which is so beautiful and genius. At
some point in time, I was smart enough to realise that my rigidity needed to be
complemented by her fluidity.
When that became obvious, I knew that I had to derive my satisfaction elsewhere
because I'm not going to get that resolution at this particular apartment. That's why I
got the one at the Lido. Now, I'm enjoying this place as Michele's expression of
warmth that I don't really have. My expressions are a little more chilly and controlled.
Of all the spaces that you have created—personal ones included—where do you
feel the most at home? Where do you feel like you can work?
Oh, in Concordia. I have an office in the factory and an apartment next door with a
gym in it. Two weeks before every collection, I'm there for two weeks. Every day, I
have food delivered, I take a nap in the office then I go home and watch some
sitcoms before I go to bed.
You watch sitcoms?
Oh yeah. What was the last one that I watched? Oh Cucumber and Banana. They're
actually genius.
So anyway, it's two weeks of that and I have to spend a weekend in the factory,
when nobody's there. I have to be in an empty factory where I can go down to the
fabrics and take some cuttings...
[An assistant walks in: Sorry, excuse me. Michele would like to have you in the
photos.]
Oh yes, that's fine. Good idea. This is one of the times where I forget things and
Michele, her heart remembers how to take care of people.
I shan’t hold you for any longer but before that I just have to ask, what is your
favourite colour?
Grey. It has everything in it, and it is soft, gentle, ambiguous, mysterious.
And lastly do you have any projects that you are just aching to do? Any dreams that
are unfulfilled?
I don't... I would feel guilty just thinking about them because I've had so many
opportunities to fulfill dream ideas. I'm not saying that I've got everything I want, but
I've definitely gotten more than I deserve so I should just be satisfied with that. You
know the key to happiness is gratitude. Everybody can be grateful for something.
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