We all know about the most famous wardrobe malfunctions, such as PJ Proby splitting his trousers [in front of the Danish royal family], but obviously in wardrobe, these are the last things that you want to happen. The prime recent example is Madonna at the Brits – when her cape got caught up in the dancers and she went tumbling down the stairs. Anyone watching who worked in wardrobe would have cried inside for the wardrobe person who tied the bow on that cape. Ugly as it is, this is where a little piece of Velcro would have come into its own.
You always have to visualise the worst case scenario and put a safety net in place – your head can fizz with all the bits you have to remember and where it’s all placed. The Madonna incident demonstrated how one little thing being out of place can throw a whole sequence. The performer could be late for a cue and the result can be disaster.
I’m head of wardrobe for a host of different pop artists, from Little Mix to Kylie, which basically means running the wardrobe department when an artist is on tour or doing promo. My repertoire of music genres varies hugely. I also style costumes myself for everyone from people in TV adverts to the dancers on X Factor, and the occasional goth metal band, notably Cradle of Filth. I’ve designed some really scary gear for them [such as the outfits in the Frost on Her Pillow video], but they’re actually sweet, middle-aged men and up for anything. It’s great fun because it’s not shiny pop.
When an artist is about to go on an arena tour, the first thing that happens is I’ll be approached by the production manager to see my availability. Then I’ll start as soon as the dancers and artist start rehearsals, so that I’m around to take measurements and do the fittings.
The designs themselves [often by major fashion designers] would have been signed off for some time, as the costume budget would be negotiated by the creative director and stylist with the production company. However, until the final fitting takes place – and we see how each costume moves on stage and how quick it is to get on and off – there can be lots of to-ing and fro-ing with the artist or dancers to get it “show ready”.
Shoes are the first thing to get right, as people need to be able to dance and not get blisters. I’ll get the footwear specially stretched so they get broken in, and soles specially rubbered so they don’t slip on stage. Artists will want to rehearse in the shoes that they will be wearing at the gigs as early as possible.
During this period, I’ll also liaise with their stylist and assist the costume-makers with fittings and document any changes. I’ll get a couple of seamstresses to help with alterations and changes as we get closer to the final dress rehearsal. Part of the job involves organising dressers for the show itself, flight cases and any haberdashery and so on to be taken on tour. On tour, I’m also responsible for sewing any repairs or replacing zips, so you want spares at hand in case of an emergency.
Once the stage has been built in production week, the performers will do a dry run (without costumes) to learn where the exits and lifts are etc. Then we do it all in the actual costumes they’ll be wearing on the night. The stage manager will build a quick-change tent, where we’ll have costumes on chairs ready to be put on by the performer. When artists disappear off stage and reappear wearing another outfit, that’s what’s happening. The outfit changes generally have to be under a minute long, so it gets pretty frantic, with used costumes flying across the room.
Once the performers are back on stage, you have to clear the tent or room as quickly as possible to set the next costume. Some artists and dancers have up to 10 costume changes each, occasionally even more, so you have to get a local dresser to make sure the outfits are all hung properly and nothing is missing before it all gets packed away and sent to the next venue.
I got into this by studying for a BA in fashion design at Central Saint Martins, and then I worked internships at Alexander McQueen and Hussein Chayalan. After graduating, I realised I loved the theatrics of the fashion shows but not the fashion industry itself, so I worked at the Royal Opera House in the wardrobe department for three years. I was assisting supervisors, but all the while learning costume design on the job. I was asked to tour with small productions of the Royal Ballet as head of wardrobe. In this industry, one job leads to another, but it’s long hours, you’re working closely together, and you’re aware that you are only a link in the giant chain. If you piss people off, the chain won’t go round. It’s vital you get on and can have a bit of a laugh in the meanwhile, because every department is working really hard – although I think wardrobe works the hardest.
From the outside, I’m sure it looks really glamorous. In fact, you work a 16-hour day, sleep on a tour bus in a bunk bed and shower in the venue. The highlight sometimes is the catering. When everyone sits down together, you get to hang with the different departments and the food is generally amazing. You have to be incredibly disciplined to avoid the dessert section. On the other hand, in busy periods, such as production week, you’re lucky if you manage to gulp a couple of mouthfuls. The fittings take place during the dinner breaks, because every second on stage is taken up with lighting and sound.
On a day off, though, they put you up in a swanky hotel in a place you’ve sometimes never been, and that is exciting. We get a mini city break every three days.
I have to be present on every tour date. On the first night, there’s a real buzz, as it’s the first time the show will be reviewed. Everyone is nervous and things are still fresh, so there’s a lot for everyone to remember, but you have to stay as calm as possible so backstage runs smoothly. Most of the time, the dancers are panicking more than the artists. Dance routines can be changed sometimes just minutes before a show.
It’s really nice when reviewers praise the costumes, and all the hard work was worth it. I take the outfits with me, so at home I can dress for comfort in gold hot pants, a bejeweled, feathered headdress and 6in Louboutin high heels … I’m joking. At the end of the tour, everything is archived, as some costumes (depending on the artist) will appear in museums and are worth a great deal. Others may be used in one-off shows. Sometimes they’ve been known to be auctioned. I never get to keep them.
