What is the secret sauce of the Central Saint Martins MA – the melting pot that produced Alexander McQueen (class of 1992), and, a generation later, Sean McGirr (class of 2014), who now sits in the McQueen hot seat, as well as hundreds alum diaspora of independent London designers and team specialists at work across the planet fashion? In a nutshell – a point that stands out in spite of Brexit Britain and its petty politics – it is the diversity of student talent from which it draws, the individuals that Professor Fabio Piras and his academic team have put together to fuel each other, as each shows what is uniquely important to them.
‘I don’t know, it’s very cliché to say, but the university has a legacy that attracts everything. Sometimes when you see fashion on the catwalk, nowadays it looks more like a beautiful product, but when you see CSM, it is something unknown, it must be close to your identity,” says Dhruv Bandil, the Indian graduate who organized the prestigious annual L got. ‘Oreal Professionnel award for his vibrant drip-dyed collection, decorated with his proprietary technique of 3D cotton cord jewel-like inner beading, inspired by 11th century Shiva temple carvings in his local region. “It is a requirement that it has to be what you believe in,” he added. “That raw emotion is something that drives us crazy in our authenticity. Doing this made me happy!”
Bandil had worked for Manish Arora in Paris, where he gained industry experience before submitting his MA application. This also applied to Alvaro Mars, who previously had his own brand. “I am Spanish-Real Spanish,” he laughed, describing the “everyday couture” idea he was pursuing by making ottoman bags from cotton shirts, styled over a tailored suit or a gray tracksuit, backed by Spanish expertise in leather goods (and some leftover leather from the Loewe factory). .
Mars’ answer to CSM MA’s secret sauce question? “It’s like joining a ballet company. You come in here and think you can dance, but then you see everyone around you is freestyling. And at some point you start freestyling yourself. You are surrounded by talented people who make things that you have to see to believe.”
Across the table in the CSM studio was Jonathan Ferris, who had hired a 3D scanning company to print latex masks from his own head. “I come from a working-class background and have worked many 9-to-5 jobs where I struggled with the fear of fitting in,” he said. His conceptual revenge on the oppression of British uniformity was a disturbingly Ferris-faced collection of cut-up menswear classics with hair flowing out of the backs of office shirts or knotted like a tie. “A creepy world full of fetishes and fantasies.”
