What more do you need when you have an opera theme going on, an antique theater backdrop, 8-meter high towers of pink hydrangeas, an orchestra, a choir, and six crystal chandaliers? A diva, of course! Naomi Campbell did the honors for Richard Quinn, stalking along his white-carpeted runway in a slim black velvet dress with a huge parabolic white satin collar, trimmed with a big white camellia and a giant black velvet bow.
La Campbell’s look was the overture to 52 corseted and bell-skirted dresses, acres of net petticoats, miles of duchesse satin, and kilos-worth of crystals. The magnitude of it even surpassed the numbers Quinn orchestrated at his last few shows. The collection ran through black and white, through pastels and carnation red, building to a lengthy crescendo of at least six conventional white bridal dresses.
The dress-inflation is entirely a reflection of the size of the wedding and event-wear business Quinn has captured, or rather wooed. Ever since he had the inspiration to end his spring 2020 show with a tableau of brides, it’s taken off to the extent that he has a large atelier constantly at work at Quinn headquarters in south London, and a service which flies tailors to attend to private clients in their homes around around the world. It’s a direct-to-consumer business model which cuts the risks of being entirely reliant on wholesale. Connecting with Quinn is as easy as texting the Whatsapp number on his website.
So what we see in a Quinn show these days is volume in every sense: the sparkling-crinoline sense, and the drawn-out length of his show. Variety, though, not so much. Essentially, Quinn’s silhouettes are drawn from the 1950s golden age of couture, and then embellished with embroidery he designs in the studio and has made by artisans in India. His origins as a print designer show up in the overblown floral patterns which first brought him fame, and the QE II Award for design on the unforgettable occasion when the late Queen Elizabeth appeared in his front row.
His signature wafting chiffon florals are a formula now, a product of his own in-house fabric printing works. All this is admirable: Quinn has succeeded through a combination of dedication to delivering what customers respond to, and entrepreneurially figuring out how to grow a significant direct-to-consumer business despite Brexit and Covid. Less is more has never been in his vocabulary, and everything about his work proves that not all the tastes of the super-wealthy veer to quiet luxury.
Some of his attention to detail was marred by last-minute glitches at the show: dangling tulle, the odd visible hanging strap, a scattering of net left on the runway. No doubt that was a consequence of having 50-odd models in huge dresses crammed backstage with the crew. Still, the operatic scale of the Richard Quinn show is something that radiates abroad and brings business and employment to Britain, a proud product of South London, just like Naomi Campbell herself.
