© Harris Reed
Fashion
24-year-old Harris Reed has already dressed Harry Styles and Solange Knowles, and worked at Gucci. As they graduate from London’s prestigious Central Saint Martins, Vogue gets an exclusive first look at their final-year collection and the creativity they are about to unleash on the world
Dressing Harry Styles and Solange Knowles on multiple occasions; working for Gucci and modelling in both the brand’s runway shows and first gender-neutral fragrance campaign — each a notable check on the bucket list of many fashion designers. But to have achieved all this before you’ve graduated from the prestigious fashion design course at London’s Central Saint Martins (CSM)? Now that’s no standard undergraduate experience. Welcome to the ethereal, fluid, sequin-strewn world of Harris Reed.
This week marked a turning point in the 24-year-old’s career. On 20 May, incidentally their birthday, Reed launched an Instagram filter of the white, wide-brimmed hat from their first-year project, which caught the attention of Knowles’s stylist. It’s already been shared by the likes of Kaia Gerber, Jodie Turner-Smith, Tommy Dorfman and Jeremy O. Harris — building a sense of anticipation for their final-year collection as they unveil it here on Vogue.
Called Thriving In Our Outrage, the scale of the six looks provide no hint that it was created entirely in Reed’s London apartment. Think tailoring with giant lapels and capacious flares; crinoline cages and debutante gowns in a riot of animal print; towering platform boots, and of course those wide-brimmed hats, this time in hand-appliquéd silk and lace and 1m in diameter.
In lieu of the graduate show, which has been cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Bella Thomas—a second-year student who isolated with Reed and supported them throughout — photographed Reed in the looks. To bring the photos to life, illustrator Lukas Palumbo hand-painted intricate sets around them and animator Lauren Deane Hunter created an overlay.
Speaking over Zoom a few days before submission day, Reed shared the ideas and processes behind the collection, their experiences working with Styles and their thoughts on the future of fashion.
© Harris Reed
“There’s a fluidity and rock romanticism to everything I do and I was looking for a point of reference that would take the opulence to the next level. I came across an article about this bonkers aristocrat in the CSM archives at 3am—it was Henry Paget. He built a theatre in his family’s chapel; would perform Oscar Wilde plays for the locals and spent the equivalent of £4.8m in today’s money on costumes for one play alone. [Paget] is the kind of character who represented the extremes I wanted to go to with all these amazing embellishments and crystals and pope-like hats. He was shamelessly his truest self.”
“I love the tailoring back then—Tommy Nutter’s suits, the flares, the velvet, Mick Jagger in the film Performance [1970] — everything had this decadence to it. To make even more of a statement, I looked at these debutante-style Charles James gowns and did these hybrid designs; huge draped skirts over cages made from steel boning, styled with all this suiting and blouses and bows.”
“I used to think wearing skinny jeans, a pink blouse and combat boots was so crazy. At CSM people had bleached eyebrows, they shaved their heads, they wore wigs—they were exploring themselves. I went to Charles Jeffrey’s Loverboy events from the beginning. London is the reason I make the clothes I make; even if it flops, I know it’s authentic and true to my ethos.”
© Harris Reed
“From a young age, I saw the immediate power fashion had—you can confront someone with something they might be uncomfortable with. When I was nine, I came out and started experimenting with gender fluidity. I would wear a pink shirt or bow to school and everyone turned their head—the psychology that makes people react or have an opinion about fashion fascinates me."
“Breaking down gender boundaries became more and more important to me. I considered doing fine art because I like pottery, painting and dance (I used to do ballet). But then I thought, you can reach more people in the street than you can in a gallery. People are more conscious of how you express yourself through garments and how that can have a wider impact. We are like walking banners.”
© Harris Reed
“When I made clothes for Harry Styles, people said: ‘I don't get why people are freaking out over you doing flares and a blouse for a guy, that's normal.’ It’s a privilege to think that’s normal. I also got messages saying it’s disgusting that a man would wear a dress or feminine clothes. That’s when you realise you are starting a movement through clothing.”
“Harry Styles’ longtime stylist Harry Lambert was one of the first people to pull clothes from me in my first year of CSM—he messaged me on Instagram and I had around 1,000 followers [Reed’s follower count is now 147k]. A few months later he said, ‘I think you’d be really great for a client of mine.’ He gave me some Mick Jagger and Jimi Hendrix references and said, ‘Go crazy—make something fabulous.’ I had one night to do it—this was going to be my first paid gig.
“The next day, Harry Lambert called and said the client loved it (I still didn’t know who it was) and told me to meet them at a stage door at a given address. I went after college and as I got closer, I realised it was Hammersmith Apollo. Outside the sign read ‘Harry Styles–Sold Out’.
“There were thousands of girls everywhere. I was wearing a red fake-fur jacket, tons of eyeshadow, platform boots and silver flares and went running up to the security guard and said, ‘Hi, I’m here to see Harry Styles.’ She was like, ‘Uh huh, sweetie.’ When I said I was going to be his designer, she didn’t question it and let me in.”
“We get on really well. I thought it was going to be one meeting, but he was really involved and even took my pen at one point when I was erasing a detail. Harry was already wearing incredible suits, but he hadn’t pushed into wearing all these ruffles. He really trusted me.”
“My mum has endless stories—she would go to Studio 54 with Andy Warhol in her modelling days. I remember her making candles in the kitchen and my dad would be doing cuts for a film in the other room. Those films start with a pitch and he’d have to go into a meeting to deliver it. That inspired me to pinpoint exactly what I wanted to do and think about the whole picture. It’s not just clothes. Who’s wearing them? What’s the setting? What’s the caption? I'm a storyteller first and foremost.”
© Harris Reed
“The traditional fashion show is dead. It won’t be fully digital—brands will need to find a way of having an exclusive show for VIPs, buyers and editors, but at the same time release something to the public that’s more than a livestream. It could be a film, a play, an interactive experience, CGI. With TikTok and Instagram, people want to know what’s behind the curtain.”
© Harris Reed
“Quarantine came in two days after we showed the tutors our toiles and they were either approved or had to be changed. The saddest thing is a lot of the pieces were made for the runway—I had giant metal hats welded that I had to leave in the school building. There were hundreds of metres of fabric everywhere and the garments are huge. It’s been an adventure!”
© Harris Reed
“Having the time to think is a luxury I haven’t had in the past two years—it’s all been gut instinct. Spending all this time sitting on the floor and sewing, I’ve fallen in love with the craft all over again. There’s going to be a return to handmade custom pieces and people will be buying less and handing things down. We need fantasy now more than ever, and if I can provide an escape for people, then I’m doing something right.”
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