“God Save the Queen of Fashion: Vivienne Westwood”
Back in London after several years in Los Angeles, my dear friend, the late journalist Lester Middlehurst, could not wait to take me out on the London party scene. It was all a little overwhelming on our first outing — the launch of Naomi Campbell’s first album.
As we pushed through the excitable crowd onto the red carpet, Lester whispered, “You’re not actually invited. I only have one invite — we’ll just blag you in.” In true Lester style, blag me in he did, leaving my face as red as the carpet and my hands shaking. Blagging is not my forte, and I stood there clutching my glass of champagne, feeling far less confident than I looked.
It felt like I was the only person among the assembled celebrity guests I had never heard of.
My nerves were soon eased when a lovely woman with a soft Yorkshire accent asked, “How are you tonight? You look great.” It was none other than the wonderful and grounded Vivienne Westwood.
Unlike many of the politely named “meerkats” I encountered over the years — people constantly looking over your shoulder to see if someone more important had arrived — Vivienne was genuinely interested. When I told her I’d owned a pair of her bondage trousers at just seventeen, she laughed and listened. Several people tried to interrupt us, and she politely told them she was talking to me.
That first London social event is one I will never forget, thanks to Vivienne.
With her down-to-earth, no-nonsense charm, she didn’t just change fashion — she changed how we saw designers. Outrageous, camp, fun, and fearless, she was arguably the woman we all wished could be our friend.
In my teens, I once took my mum for a treat day out to King’s Road when I was sixteen. We sat opposite the famous shop Sex, run by Vivienne and Malcolm McLaren. My mum was not ready for the vibe. Spotting what she thought was a giant tampon in the window, she let out a small scream — and that was the end of our day out.
Whether telling Kate Moss that she’d fancy her if she were gay, challenging older generations with “We don’t accept your values,” promoting the Green Party, stripping for PETA, or mocking then–Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher on the cover of Tatler, Vivienne was never afraid to stand on the front line.
Her origins lay in slogan T-shirts. With Malcolm, she designed provocative clothing that led to prosecution under the 1959 Obscene Publications Act. They responded by rebranding the shop, and later opening Seditionaries. Around the same time, the Sex Pistols — managed by Malcolm — released God Save the Queen, a chart-topper banned by the BBC.
Punk was born, and Vivienne led it.
Long before “fifty shades” became fashionable, she brought taboo, fetish, and fantasy into mainstream culture. She inspired artists like Madonna and helped people express themselves boldly through clothing.
Despite her anti-establishment views, she became one of the world’s top designers. She won Fashion Designer of the Year in 1990 and 1991 from the British Fashion Council. She received an OBE from Queen Elizabeth II in 1992 and was made a Dame in 2006.
In 1992, she introduced wedding gowns into her collections. One of her designs famously appeared in Sex and the City, when Mr Big gifts Carrie her dress.
It shocked many when her death was announced in December 2022 — and that this ageless woman was 81. She passed away peacefully, surrounded by family, in Clapham, South London.
Many people enter this world hoping to leave their mark. The soft-spoken Yorkshire girl left her mark on everyone she met — and an indelible stamp on global fashion.
God save the Queen of Fashion.
2Shades Magazine 