They weren’t just any old boxes. Sometimes it was black speckles on white, other times black speckles on red. Another photographer might have stuffed their film (yes, I’m talking about the days before digital) into a boring gray Hollinger box or a padded yellow envelope, but not Roxanne Lowit. With Roxanne (who sadly passed away in 2022), the delivery of her latest haul was a carefully conceived, aesthetically exhilarating experience. If one of her (made in Paris) clam shell boxes arrived at the office, the Vogue staff knew that the sheets of meticulously sleeved and labeled 35mm color transparencies contained either the most important and exciting moments from the crucial minutes before Tom Ford or Marc Jacobs sent out their latest collection and rocked the fashion world, or we were about to see what really went on inside that Page Six-worthy party from the night before that everyone was still whispering about.
It was 1996, and after two years in the art department at Vogue, I had been promoted to Photo Editor that spring. Roxanne was already firmly entrenched in the magazine, shooting all of our backstage in Paris, Milan, London, and New York, as well as covering the hottest parties around town. Roxanne had been introduced to Vogue via staffer Gabé Doppelt, who had worked with her in the 1980s at Tatler, and by the mid-’90s she was shooting for Billy Norwich’s Talking Fashion pages, Kate Betts’s View section, and an occasional feature story, as well. Roxanne seemed to be everywhere all the time.
Roxanne’s rise at Vogue paralleled the rise of the fashion show as a cultural focal point. Once a niche experience, with shows attended by select clients, important editors, and the fashion faithful, seats were now being filled by actors, rock stars, and athletes. Everyone wanted in on the action. To entertain this high profile audience, fashion brands like Chanel and Dior spent wildly around the globe; building elaborate sets to outdo one another and crank up the Wow! factor with each successive show.
Photographing the shows was considered primarily a man’s job. At the end of each runway, a pack of burly safari-jacketed guys with big lenses jockeyed for position. Vogue relied on Guy Marineau in Europe and Dan Lecca in New York, and then later, Andrew Lamb took the reins. All three were supremely talented and held the prime spots in the end-of-the-runway positioning pecking order for many years.
Realizing that it was better to ignore them than to try and join them, Roxanne used her wit and charm to stealthily get backstage. Yes, the print world needed every look from every show, properly recorded, but when Roxanne started snapping, it was obvious that we were only seeing half the story. Within a few seasons, Roxanne was coined the “queen of backstage” cementing her mythic status as a true female pioneer, revealing a world that had remained hidden for decades. For many seasons to follow, even as more photographers joined her backstage, Roxanne was still often the sole female presence behind the lens.
Born in Manhattan in 1942, Roxanne studied at the Fashion Institute of Technology and prior to picking up a camera, created textile patterns for designers like Anne Klein and Clovis Ruffin. She understood fashion as a designer would and saw the stories within the story. While the front-of-house was abuzz with celebrities vying to be noticed, the once dapper and demure designers in the mold of a Christian Dior or Hubert de Givenchy were now being replaced by upstarts like John Galliano and Alexander McQueen. Things were getting wild.
Previously unknown to the outside world, makeup artists like Pat McGrath and hairstylists like Julien d’Ys were doing all the big shows and becoming stars unto themselves. And of course, there were the supermodels. Naomi, Cindy, Christy, Tatiana, and then Kate, quickly rocketing to the summit of celebrity. Roxanne saw all of this before any of us fully understood it and her lens became the portal that brought the fashion world to a new, much larger audience.
Some of my personal favorites include John Galliano doing a last minute touch-up before one of his now iconic Dior couture collections or Linda Evangelista having a supermodel moment backstage with the Versace atelier team. I also love seeing André Leon Talley and Miuccia Prada embracing, most likely after one of Mrs. Prada’s epic, trend setting shows. With all the glitz and glamour, there were also deep bonds and enduring friendships. And who can forget the Holy Trinity mugging it up for Roxanne in the Ritz bathtub!
When things were in full swing, usually the weeks just after the shows ended, Roxanne would be in her studio on Bethune Street in Manhattan filling and labeling her boxes. I would sometimes jump into one of Condé Nast’s infamous Big Apple towncars in front of our Madison Avenue offices and race downtown to pick up whatever shows we were most desperate for that day. Roxanne would meet me at the door, always with a smile and friendly hello. At the time, I thought we were just making sure that Billy and Kate’s pages were filled for the upcoming issue, but looking back, I realize that we were actually watching Roxanne Lowit make history.
Learn more about Vogue’s Forces of Fashion event, which is back for an eighth edition on October 16—with a special focus on the power, the drama, and the spectacle of the runway show.
