The Boy Wonder

The Boy Wonder

Jonathan Anderson is one of fashion’s biggest success stories – and he’s still only 34. Here, he discusses the ‘anxiety driven spark’ that keeps him at the top, and why his family will always be on the front row

WORDS: JANE MCFARLAN

Unfortunately there’s a trend for loud things, and loud doesn’t necessarily mean good

By most standards, Jonathan Anderson seems to be the antithesis of a fashion designer. Dressed in a nondescript jumper and scruffy Nike trainers, the 34-year-old Northern Irishman lacks any of the frippery normally associated with the industry. Only the three iPhones and the packet of cigarettes he carries everywhere hint at his ruthlessly organised schedule and quasi-obsessive manner. Today, however, over coffee in London, Anderson is relatively mellow. It has been six weeks since he presented two catwalk collections, one for his London-based eponymous label and the other for the Spanish luxury brand Loewe. He has just come back from a weekend at his second home in Norfolk, where he disconnects from juggling the two roles. “I live in Stoke Newington and have a house near Holt, in Norfolk. I love going to stately homes, and Norfolk has so many. There’s an amazing beach at Holkham, and it can clear your head. If you’d asked me years ago I wouldn’t have known how to do that, I would have had no idea, because it was just continual,” he says, his Irish lilt mildly tempered after living in London for more than a decade. “I’ve realised that by going away on a weekend, I am ready to start on a Monday and I’m not dreading it.” Indeed, the past few years have been a whirlwind — not only for the highly successful designer, but also for the fashion industry that has followed and critiqued his every move since 2008, when, three years after his graduation, he launched JW Anderson as a menswear label. In 2010 he added womenswear and in 2012 designed a sold-out Topshop collaboration, before inking a one-year deal with Versus, Versace’s diffusion line. In September 2013, Anderson went global when the luxury conglomerate LVMH took a 46 percent stake in his own-name label and hired him to take the creative helm at Loewe, the Madrid-based brand known for its leather goods. At the 2015 British Fashion Awards, he was named both womenswear and menswear designer of the year — the first time anyone had won both categories. This level of sustained hype is unheard of, not least for a thirtysomething from Northern Ireland. So what’s Anderson’s secret? Well, he does things his way. He’s perfectly polite, of course, but rather than court celebrities or schmooze industry folk, Anderson is more interested in championing unknown creatives in fields outside fashion. His belief in a fashion brand as a multifaceted entity — he introduced a prestigious craft prize and a lifestyle collection at Loewe, for example — has caused other labels to follow suit. He also sent gender-blurring collections down the catwalk years before the rest of the industry caught on. Then there is his lucrative line in accessories: the Puzzle bag for Loewe and the Pierce for JW Anderson (according to Lyst, the most-searched bag in 2016) are just two of his many Insta-hits. Perhaps most important, Anderson hasn’t lost self-belief along the way. “No matter what season it’s been, we do exactly what we feel is right, so maybe this time it struck more of a chord with people,” he says, draining his second cup of coffee. “I was really happy with the show this year. I liked the femininity in it, I liked the fluidity in it, which I think was a new step for us.”

The financial backing of a luxurygoods group has also marked Anderson’s transition into entrepreneur — commercial considerations became as important as creative instincts. “You have to be [commercially aware],” he says. “It’s not a vanity project. It’s business, and it has to work, or what is the point, really, in the end?” For the past five years Anderson’s weeks have been split between his east London studio and Loewe’s Paris atelier, as well as the monthly trips to its Madrid HQ — hence the three iPhones. His own brand now employs 50 people, and he has recently appointed a new CEO. Indeed, far from resting on his laurels, Anderson is busier than ever — part of his success is due to his relentless curiosity. His shows are never just a presentation of clothes on a catwalk. There is always something interesting to take in: a photography exhibition; works by the Japanese ceramicist Ryoji Koie. His east London store, JW Anderson Workshops, showcases evolving art installations and limited-edition collaborations. This predilection for storytelling comes from Anderson’s earliest days in fashion, when he worked for Prada as a visual merchandiser. “I learnt the idea of a 360° environment, that the [shop] window mattered, the styling mattered, the chair mattered, the art mattered. I think that brand configuration has had a lasting influence on me,” he says. Last year he curated his first art exhibition — “It’s one of my proudest things; it merged me and all the things I love” — and he recently launched his Your Picture/Our Future initiative to find and encourage young photographers. His passion for the artisan (his grandfather was a textile designer) is obvious in the 16 collections he designs each year for Loewe and his own label, and his collaborations with the high-street brands Uniqlo and Converse. Clearly Anderson, who shifts restlessly throughout our conversation, thrives on the variation: “That’s why I love my collaborations — it changes the rhythm of it, so you’re not just a seasonal junkie.” He’s part of a cadre of designers, including Phoebe Philo and Christophe Lemaire, promoting pragmatic and empowering concepts — Anderson’s intellectual clothes are a rebuttal of seasonal fads or trends. Neither are they about attracting the male (or female) gaze. “Unfortunately there’s a trend for loud things, and loud doesn’t necessarily mean good,” he sighs. Instead he provides clothing with depth. Mindful of Britain’s political and financial climate, he insists that fashion should reflect its sociopolitical times. “I think it’s a moment where you have to be incredibly awake. Every morning I watch the news, every morning I read the newspaper, and every morning I look at the figures — I tackle all problems in the morning. But what you realise is you have to take everything with a pinch of salt. I take the news, even the BBC, with a large pinch of salt, because what is the political agenda? What is the focus? And you start to realise that in society you have to question things, and we have to be aware, because it’s better to be 10 steps ahead than 10 steps behind. “I always look at a Cecil Beaton image of a Digby Morton suit — it’s of a woman whose back is turned to the camera and she’s beside a rubble building that’s been bombed during the war. And you realise that clothing has to reflect the period. But it also has to take you out of it. So if you don’t know what’s socially or culturally happening, it’s difficult for you to be able to be, like, ‘I am the utopia creator’, because ultimately society doesn’t want that now.

Fashion can be isolating. As much as it looks glamorous, you can become quite insular and negative’

“There has to be a realism to things. And you have to be on your toes today, because if you take anything for granted, then it can go quickly. Personal things can affect you, stress can affect you, workload can affect you and what is happening can affect you, but you need to be able to turn that into energy. You need that anxiety-driven spark. Or it becomes a little bit boring.” As immersive as Anderson finds work, he does seem clearer on the need for respite. “I think, as any person does, there is a tipping point. I know when to stop now.” His life is a mix of the most fashionable and the wholesome, whether that’s gardening in Holt or visiting auctions to add to his modern British art collection. He remains close to his family (he grew up one of three children, and h is older brother now works for his label), and his parents, Heather and Willie, a former Irish international rugby player, applaud him from the front row every season. He’s least likely to be found at a fashion party, and tends to stick to his close-knit group of friends. “Fashion can be isolating. As much as it looks glamorous, you can become quite insular and you can become quite negative, because it’s a natural process of reinvention. I think my parents have been very good in moments where you have to make emotional decisions. They’re good at guiding in that, because they don’t know the entire picture, but they know what are the more human things that you need to know. And they know me and what I’m like, for the good and the bad.” It’s the late Manuela Pavesi, Miuccia Prada’s right-hand woman, whom Anderson credits for his fashion education. “She was a great mentor. In a weird way, Prada had a lasting effect on me. When I worked there, it was a very family-run business. It was about fashion. She [Miuccia] enjoys it, she relishes it, and at the same time she could take cultural things and throw them into the pot. I think she is one of the early period of female designers who really empowered women in a different way. I do feel like that has had a lasting effect on me. And I think I learnt the ambition to always be the best.”