From the Archive: A Very Fashionable Memoir
A recap of Bill Cunningham's memoir, Fashion Climbing
Every other week I will be publishing an archive blogpost from my namesake blog, which I wrote during 2020-2021.
The below piece was originally published in May 2020. Enjoy!
I broke my New Year's resolution when buying Fashion Climbing: A New York Life, that is Bill Cunningham’s memoir, in late January of this year. My 2020 resolution was not to buy another book until I had read all the books that were patiently waiting for me on my overcrowded bookshelf (well, actually the pile of books underneath my bedside table, rather inelegantly displayed). In any case three weeks is quite good going for me with any kind of resolution, and besides, who could resist that cover - a black and white photograph of a young Bill admiring an adorned model.
Bill was a fashion icon, who became more widely known through the recent Bill Cunningham New York documentary. When he died in 2016, the aforementioned memoir was found amongst his possessions - a memoir he had written about his experiences as a milliner and his early days as a fashion reporter throughout the 1950s & 1960s. Known for his relentless perfectionism, he never submitted the book to print, which is outrageous as the writing couldn’t be more engaging, and thus it was only recently printed in 2018.
The story is a glittering and charming tale of Bill’s pursuit of a fashionable life. He got his start by moving from his native Boston to New York when he was just 19 years old, living with an uncle in the city. Whilst he did begin his career in Manhattan then, he was swiftly sent abroad and spent time stationed in France as a soldier during the Korean war. All was not lost though, as this experience ultimately meant he returned to the US with a new love of Parisian couture, which he somehow managed to witness beyond the barracks.
Bill Cunningham in the early days of William J.
Soon, under his own label, William J, millinery became Bill’s official entree to a career in fashion. Back in New York, he hit the ground running, and began making hats for famous clients, the fashion forward and the kooky elite (he was well known for designing hats with a wild and surrealist touch). He then changed lanes in 1962 and started working as a fashion reporter, initially and most notably for rag-trade bible Women’s Wear Daily. His more recent incarnation was as a street and society photographer for The New York Times, where he captured the outfits and movements of the genuinely stylish on the streets of Manhattan.
A true New Yorker, Bill lived in Carnegie Hall for many years. When it opened up its rooms of residence it became home to many of the 20th century’s most influential artists, such as Marlon Brando and Lee Strasburg. As Bill wrote this memoir he was was still living there, in fact. However one of the most painful things about the aforementioned docu-film, Bill Cunningham New York, is watching an elderly Bill look around the city for a new apartment, as he and the other last remaining tenants were being forced out of the iconic building.
Bill in his later years, photographing a hot-pink poodle!
Many of Bill’s own obstacles and concerns with the fashion industry, which he candidly shares constantly throughout the book, still seem so relevant. He talks of struggling with shop rents, trying to gain attention amidst an oversaturated fashion week and convincing customers of his weird and wonderful designs. Many fashion designer friends I have certainly experience that same list of issues today, as I did when I was running my vintage store, making this memoir more modern than you’d think.
Apart from his impressive CV, a tale of Bill’s that I was particularly struck by was his enthusiasm about a greyhound bus tour he’d taken around the United States. It was on this journey, he wrote, that he witnessed America’s most stylish women. In fact, according to Bill, those with true style weren’t necessarily those holding positions of power at magazines in Manhattan, but instead women from all walks of life who resided all over the country. In his stories he cites many well-dressed women from other significant cities, such as Chicago and Dallas, as being who he viewed as truly fashionable and fabulous. These women were the actual consumers of fashion and really knew how to dress, thus proving that style is innate and has nothing to do with postcode.
It’s this sentiment that I share with Bill. Controversial as it is, I can't really think of any current fashion editors, that I know of, who’s personal style I’m totally inspired by - though that’s not to say I don’t want to emulate some of their visions portrayed in their fashion shoots. But it’s true that the world’s real fashion icons live all over, not necessarily where you would expect, and not always in glossy magazine offices.
Beyond that, the thought of Bill Cunningham on a greyhound bus, touring his country in his youth, inspires me in the sense that the reality of travel for the next few years seems purely domestic. Suddenly I want to book a bus trip to Darwin, post lockdown, to go and spy some true fashionistas up North - though something tells me that I am much more likely to see a crocodile in the wild that way, rather than the crocodile skin handbags Bill might have seen in midcentury, middle-America.
You can buy the book here.