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Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty at The Met

The first time I ever met Lee Alexander McQueen, he was having an outburst. Furious about the flogging he’d received in the press for his first Givenchy haute couture collection—a campy kind of ode to Greek mythology—he had just flown into New York City to work on an ad campaign with the photographer Richard Avedon. When I stupidly mentioned the recent criticism, McQueen began railing against various individuals—most of them quite powerful—in the fashion business, telling me he didn’t give a bleep about them.

I recalled that long-ago outburst this morning when I previewed the stunning galleries of the new exhibit Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty, on view at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art through July 31. Surveying the vast body of McQueen’s wildly imaginative work—from his famous “bumster” collection to the “Plato’s Atlantis” collection—I reflected upon the authenticity and rawness of McQueen’s talent and about how unafraid he was of originality.

We met in the early days of McQueen’s career. He had just been appointed to the top spot at Givenchy and I interviewed him for a profile in American Vogue. It was the summer of 1997, and he was already known as an English bad boy, making a name for himself by crossing boundaries—sexual, cultural, emotional, you name it. His first real fashion show—his graduation collection from Central Saint Martins, had told the story of Jack the Ripper; and Isabella Blow, the infinitely talented London stylist, had bought every outfit. McQueen went on to start his own company out of his dreary Hoxton apartment and create wildly imaginative collections that drew on his Scottish heritage (“Highland Rape”), his love of strong women like the ones in an early London show who appeared in bumster pants with scotch tape G-strings and tire marks across their breasts, and his deep curiosity about the natural world.

When he got the Givenchy job, he brought his rough East End attitude with him to Paris’ gilded couture ateliers. Nobody, least of all the American press, thought McQueen would last more than two seasons. The story I wrote for American Vogue asked the question right in the headline: “Does Alexander McQueen have enough talent to keep Givenchy going?”

On the several occasions that I interviewed McQueen for that Vogue story—I also visited him in the Givenchy studio in Paris—rumors were constantly swirling that he was about to be fired. It was almost as if the fashion establishment could not quite grasp the idea that this rough young lad—the son of a cab driver—would inhabit the same atelier that once turned out clothes for Audrey Hepburn.

That summer in Paris, and for years to follow, McQueen would remain one of the most watched and most talked-about talents in the industry. His taste for the macabre became a point of fascination early on. His second Givenchy couture show, presented in a Parisian medical school, told the story of a mad surgeon who had traveled the world and returned home with a jumble of body parts that he quickly locked up in a closet. The show opened with these “experiments” come to life: one of the models wore a corset that was attached to a chador topped with a bird cage. In one outfit he addressed couture, race, religion, politics and the natural world. Future shows, including one where Kate Moss appeared in a hologram, never failed to astonish.

And yet it seemed McQueen never had any use for industry accolades. In later years, he would stomp down the runway nodding, accepting the applause, but then disappear immediately after the show. Fashion editors and retail buyers would search in vain for the designer backstage. He claimed not to need the compliments. He was quite sure of his own romantic and often untamed creative talent. He was from the very beginning of his career a force of nature, as the Savage Beauty exhibit demonstrates.

He also understood the power of fashion to influence emotions. At one of my interviews with him he said, “I don’t see any point in the audience leaving the show with no emotion.” As such, he never shied away from political statements, the gruesome behavior of the natural world, or social transgressions. When I reminded him that he was often accused of being misogynistic, he replied,“I know what misogyny is! I hate this thing about fragility and making women feel naïve. I want to empower women. I want people to be afraid of the women I dress.”

He had a great sense of humor, too. In the Givenchy atelier, he showed me a coat made entirely of horsehair. (It’s in the exhibit.) He joked, “Now we just need a hairdresser to come in to clip it into shape.” Back then he would punctuate sentences with an ear-splitting yelp (if he was in a good mood). He was also very poignant at times, such as when trying to communicate with Givenchy seamstresses in broken French, or when relying on his beloved mother for genealogical research on his Scottish roots.

His influence in fashion has been widespread—from details as small as embroidered flowers on pinstripes to the way he single-handedly elongated the silhouette with his famous bumster trousers. In seven different galleries, the Savage Beauty exhibit spells out McQueen’s many approaches to romanticism—from romantic naturalism to romantic historicism, nationalism, primitivism, individualism, and exoticism. The pair of red ostrich feather and clam-shell embroidered dresses that open the exhibit—both from the spring/summer 2001 VOSS collection—proudly display his knack for combining traditional craftsmanship with a modern silhouette. And even though the galleries are arranged by theme, not chronologically, we see the evolution of his work from the early jackets he designed for his first show in 1992 (all bought by Isabella Blow) right through to the “Cabinet of Curiosities” gallery that displays all of his collaborations with milliner Philip Treacy and jeweler Shaun Leane.

The exhibit shows his love of history—from the Victorian gothic 19^th century to the Scottish Jacobites. But McQueen also wholeheartedly embraced the future and the technology it promised. The Metropolitan exhibit even has a tiny recreation of the hologram of Kate Moss that he showed in his fall/winter 2006 collection. Another gallery displays the “Jellyfish” bodysuit made entirely of iridescent enamel paillettes from the spring/summer 2010 “Plato’s Atlantis” collection complete with the famous hoof boots.

“Savage Beauty” is so thorough and flawless you almost believe McQueen curated the exhibit himself. And after walking through the galleries, it’s amazing to consider that the same subversive designer also had a hand somehow in the wedding dress of the future Queen of England. The frisson of transgression in that irony alone is pure McQueen.

Savage Beauty runs through July 31.

View the current collection from the house of Alexander McQueen.