Stephen Jones speaks to Billy Parker on Designing for Pop-stars, Bringing Galliano at Dior Giant Galaxy Chocolate Bars, and The Illusion of Fashion.
As a child, I worked in the West End and had to walk down Longacre at least a couple of days every week. There was a shop like a chocolate box nestled in the street, a white box sliced through with red velvet, speckled with strange hats that looked like they had grown in a rainforest or been sucked out of Disney’s Fantasia. I remember pressing my nose against the glass to inspect the fantasy behind. I never saw anyone inside, but the hats would move and change as though the shop was alive, like they slowly grew from the carpet as exotic flowers.
It wasn’t until years later I realised it was the HQ of master milliner Stephen Jones, one of the most influential and radical milliners of the late 20th and 21st centuries. I first became aware of Jones’ work through Boy George, and subsequently the Blitz Club lore. He has commandeered a career that has lasted almost 5 decades. He is a long-term collaborator of many major fashion houses, most notably Christian Dior, where he was appointed Artistic Director of Hats in 2019. He has designed for a mouth drooling array of superstars - including Boy George, Grace Jones, Madonna, Diana Ross, Kylie Minogue, Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Christina Aguilera, Björk and Usher - all whilst designing two major collections for his own brand every year.
Years later, I returned to the shop that dumb struck me throughout my childhood, to speak with Jones on his illustrious career, the illusion of fashion, working with Kylie Minogue, and bringing Galliano bars of Galaxy chocolate in a Tesco bag.
Stephen Jones wears: Hat: Stephen Jones Millinery, Suit: Thom Browne, Neck tie: Claude Montana, Shoes: Dior
Stephen Jones: There wasn’t a punk scene at Saint Martins because the established tutors didn’t consider it a worthwhile movement. In my first year I showed various punk-ish things, and they said no, no, no. They eventually got onto the idea of punk by my third year. By then I was into Dior and Balenciaga. I had gone full circle. They were two years behind me. I absolutely did not get on with the head of the course. For my final collection, I made these white satin court presentation dresses, they had a dead seagull on the head, and a broken glove. They hated it…
Billy Parker: Really!?
SJ: They tried to fail me. It was only because my external tutor said you can't fail him that I passed.
BP: Did you always know you would end up making hats?
SJ: I had no idea whatsoever. I didn’t know what the hell I wanted to do. We had a family company, and I knew I didn’t want to go into that….
BP: What was it?
SJ: It doesn’t exist anymore. It was a big haulage company. We pulled all the stones for the Liverpool Cathedral. I always thought I was going to be shipped there.
BP: How did you escape?
SJ: I told them I wanted to go to art school. There was a means test given to children around 13 that told you what you should do in the future. I got a strange mixture of answers because I was good at art but also physics - I understood both the logic and the illogic. They introduced this new thing called “a computer” and said I should become a programmer. This was probably 1969. It’s funny to say now, I could have been Steve Jobs… I’d heard about foundation courses where you could do a bit of everything. That’s how I got to London and I eventually ended up going to Saint Martins to study womenswear, but I couldn’t sew. My tailoring tutor took pity on me and offered me an internship at his haute couture house. Next to the tailoring atelier was the millinery workroom. The tailors were really dry. The milliners worked hard and played hard. They were more alive. That was the real reason I transferred. I preferred the people. I also thought I’d be better at making a solid object rather than a soft object.
BP: What was Saint Martins like then?
SJ: It’s so different now. There were only four courses: painting, sculpture, graphics and fashion. The fashion and graphics people got together, and we all thought the painting and sculpture people were terrifying.
BP: In what sense?
SJ: They were crazy, mad, mean and didn't wash. Complete snobs, of course. They didn't dress up either. We did. Well, some of them did, but obviously in the wrong way.
BP: Wasn't there quite a big punk scene at Saint Martin's?
SJ: No. On my first day, I went into a room and on one side there were loads of girls in beige cashmere, smoking and drinking cappuccinos. On the other side, there were four or five punks. I thought, which way do I turn? I turned right towards the punks.
BP: Good choice.
SJ: And funny enough, I’ve got bondage trousers on today.
BP: You started working in the couture house after Saint Martin’s?
SJ: No, at the end of my first year. I said to Shirley, the head of the workroom, “what are we doing next term”. She replied “I've taught you enough, you have to find your own way now. I'm not going to teach you anymore.”
BP: Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
SJ: I went home and thought everybody hated me, but she was right. Finding your own way and making your own mistakes is how you do things differently. I was making women’s clothes and selling them quite well, but everyone kept telling me to make hats. Within a year of leaving college, I had my own hat shop in Endell Street. I was making hats for Steve Strange who ran the Blitz Club. He said they were moving to a new shop on Endell Street. The basement wasn’t occupied and he asked if I wanted a shop there. It was the size of this table. It was the only shop on the street. The rest was derelict.
BP: That’s crazy to imagine… derelict Covent Garden.
SJ: There were only three shops on Longacre. The rest were boarded up. The market had moved out and they were going to pull it all down, like in Paris - there were medieval buildings where the Pompidou Centre is now, which were considered slums. Eventually they didn’t in Covent Garden because it was going to cost too much money. I left [Saintt Martins] in June 1979, and opened the shop on 1 October 1980. My friend Jackie Fields and Luciana Martinez made a fabulous guest list: Andrew Logan, Derek Jarman, Brian Eno, Sandra, Molly Parkin. They all came to this tiny place. We didn’t have enough drink. There were no sponsorships then, so you paid for everything yourself. Fortunately, it was a nice day and the pub was open.
BP: Do you remember any of your first customers?
SJ: I wasn’t often in the shop as I was making all the hats myself. I wasn’t there when Divine came in. I missed quite a lot of the action, so I don’t actually know. The night before we opened, my friend Galinda came down. We had a bottle of champagne and named all the hats.
BP: Do you remember any of the names?
SJ: She arrived with names written on pieces of paper, not knowing what the hats were going to look like. I put all the hats around her, and she placed the names. One was called Electric Chair. It was a cap made out of felt. Sadly, I don’t have it anymore. I don’t have anything from that first collection. I have some I made before then, but it was a long time ago. Almost 50 years.
BP: So the shop happened as a culmination of the Blitz Club.
SJ: Exactly. Most of the people at the Blitz were younger than me. When you’re 18, a 22 year old is terribly old. By the time they’re 25, they put themselves out of their misery. They just died, you know? It was actually the jeweller, Jenny Hall, who took me for the first time. I didn't know if I was going to get in or not. I had a great... I mean all my friends were there.
BP: How did you go from resident milliner of the Blitz Club to working with Dior? You’ve had what’s almost a lifelong collaboration with the house. About 30 years now.
SJ: Through John Galliano. It says in the Conor McDowell book that he'd asked me to make hats for his final show and I'd said, “not in your life, darling.” I have no memory of this whatsoever, nor has John, but it's become folklore. Shirley, who taught me how to make hats, made John’s first hat. Then Philip Tracy did one season with him. Then when John went to Paris, he called me up and said he’d love to work together. I'd been working in Paris quite a while, for Thierry Mugler and Claude Montana. Those houses had a very strict discipline. There was a British sensibility I absolutely could not express for them. I knew I could get into what John was doing - that humour and sense of lightness. The entertainment! We'd lived these weird parallel lives until then. My first assistant, Sibylle was his first assistant. She was working part time for John whilst still working for me. I'd phone John up and say, “terribly sorry to disturb you, can I speak to Sibylle? I know she's with you today”. He would say, “lying cow, she said that she was with you”. He didn’t realise she was bunking off. It was really funny.
BP: What was the first collection you made with John?
SJ: 1992. We worked together for a while and then I followed him to Givenchy. We were there for a year and then went to Dior. There was John, Stephen, the main assistant, Bill who did the cutting, Vanessa, his PA and me. Only five of us. Everybody else was new. He wanted a fresh start. Now people take their entire team with them. The industry is very different to how it used to be. I was at Dior with John for 15 years. Then I worked with Bill Gaytten, then Raf [Simons], Maria Grazia Chiuri and now Jonathan [Anderson].
BP: How has it been working with Jonathan?
SJ: He’s amazing. Very decisive, which you have to be. Nobody, until they get to Dior, understands what a huge operation it is. Designing the collections is just a small part. You're doing press, you're checking samples, you're doing coordination, you're on a plane to China for a new store launch, you're blah blah blah blah blah.
Dr. Valerie Steele
Director and Chief Curator
The Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology
BP: I was just in Paris. I saw the hats you made for Walter Van Berinedonk, and those beautiful flower pieces for Dior couture.
SJ: The flowers are a great story. John was invited round by Jonathan. He came with two bunches of violet cyclamen tied up with satin ribbon, which became the inspiration for the show, and a bag from Tesco with a giant bar of galaxy chocolate. When John was at Dior, they could have the best chocolates in the world from the most exclusive shops, but I used to bring them a giant bar of galaxy at Christmas time and it was literally gone in a minute.
BP: Obsessed… Is there a collection or a collaboration that's stuck with you?
SJ: Well, I hope it's going to be the next one, which is going to be the most fabulous one. That's what keeps me going. There are certain hats that are my favourites, but not particularly. No. I’m always dissatisfied. I always see the mistakes. That's what I obsess about. Often what I like is not what other people like. Everything has to come together: the look, the concept, the technique. For that to happen, everyone has to work in harmony and the planets have to be in the right position in the sky.
BP: The planets..?
SJ: Oh yeah… Otherwise it's not going to work.
BP: Obsessed. Is there a hat or a collection that you can remember as being the most annoying, the most difficult?
SJ: Um, the next one. This morning I started to work on my Summer 2027 collection which will be shown this September. I had a complete panic moment because I thought I'd designed the wrong collection, summer instead of winter. I spent ages drawing straw textures and things like that and now it’s got to be made out of bloody wool! You love and hate every collection. I might freak out about one tiny thing, then somebody buys it, puts it on, and gives it its own life. Suddenly you think, wow, it looks wonderful.
BP: You’ve also made incredibly sculptural pieces, things that have pushed the boundaries of millinery. For example the Egyptian pieces from the Spring-Summer 2004 Dior haute couture show.
SJ: The night before the Egyptian show, Erin [O’Connor] was trying on one of the hats. It was huge and wouldn’t stay on her head. I had to put window sealant foam on the hairline to try and make it smaller and it was splitting up the back. I remember ramming it on her head. She had all these sequins down her face being smooshed forward. That gold outfit she was wearing was so heavy. I almost wet my pants when she walked the runway. I remember she was really ill but fortunately her new boyfriend was in the audience. She said “I cannot faint and throw up in front of him”. She fainted as soon as she came off.
Erin O’Connor, Dior Haute Couture, Spring – Summer 2004 by John Galliano.
Photo: Courtesy Alfredo Piola
BP: Oh my God.
SJ: I did so much work on that show. I also worked on quite a few of the dresses as John knew I could make anything that was a solid object. I’m very happy that I'm not doing shows like that anymore…
BP: You've also made hats for popstars like Rihanna and Beyonce. Is there a difference when you’re designing for performance vs fashion?
SJ: It all depends if it's for private life or for stage. If it's for stage, it's the choreographer who makes all the decisions. They will know that you can't have a certain shape because their arm will be doing this, and then she's flipping back and doing a somersault and so on.
BP: How do you work around that?
SJ: A lot of the time, the hat just rests on the head, so it can be easily taken off by the dancers. That's what happens with Beyonce, for example. For Mick Jagger, he’ll wear it for a certain part of the song and then take it off himself when the hat doesn’t relate anymore. He might put it back on, but it's all very strictly choreographed. Kylie is very specific. She has tons of experience and will tell you how you're going to design. It’s a collaborative experience. Rihanna is so strong, it's incredible. She can wear literally anything, and does it without complaining. She's super professional. Lady Gaga has a really good team around her who help and advise her. They’ve been working with her for a very long time. It’s about the art of performance. The hat is just one element. If I'm designing for their personal life, they want something comfortable but glamorous, because they're going to be paparazzi-ed coming out of Hermes or, off of a yacht in Sardinia.
BP: Sardinia sounds nice…
SJ: If somebody comes in off the street, and doesn’t have so much money to spend, it's still the same thing. They want the dream of fashion.
BP: What is the dream?
SJ: It's about illusion. It’s about becoming somebody else. We're all naked. You put on your costume and become the person you want to be, whether it's a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans or a ball gown. Most people do it to fit in. Few people do it to stand out. Izzy Blow once said to me, “I wear unusual clothes and Philip [Tracey]’s hats because they do the talking for me. I can relax underneath. I'm actually quite shy.” Anna Piaggi once said to me, "I wear the hat because it centres me. It makes people understand who I am. It's a security blanket.” Whatever it takes... How great that fashion is like that. It can transport you.

Stephen Jones wears: Hat: Stephen Jones Millinery, Suit: Edward Crutchley, Shirt: Thom Browne, Neck tie: Turnbull & Asser, Shoes: Thom Browne, Ring: Cartier.
BP: That's what I learnt in Paris. It’s all about transportation. You've had this amazing 5 decade long career, and you're still working…?
SJ: Every single person I was at school with has retired. I'm going to be 70 next year.
BP: No way… and not stopping…
SJ: Well, I've got a large harem I have to pay for…
BP: How do you still find inspiration?
SJ: Life. Everything that you do. Everything that you see. Why would you want to edit down life's experience? The hats are sometimes autobiographical, sometimes they're not. I used to think that films and architecture were inspiration, but that seems a bit easy. I leave it open as much as possible.
Manolo Blahnik
BP: Have you been surprised by something that's inspired you recently?
SJ: Manolo Blahnik once said to me, “as an accessory designer, you have to know fashion better than any designer, and then you have to forget about it and do exactly as you please.” Otherwise you'll drive yourself nuts. I know I have to make fashionable hats that fit into people's ideas and concepts, but why would anyone spend 400 pounds on a hat? It’s because they want my point of view. They don't want fashion. Fashion's too understandable. If somebody’s buying a haute couture hat and spending £3,000, they definitely want my point of view. Big celebrities like hats because when people take photos of them, their bottom half doesn't really matter. The thing that really changes their look is a hat. Hair is more… complicated. Did you see that thing on Instagram for Elf Cosmetics about the Super Bowl last night?
BP: I'm not sure.
SJ: It was Melissa McCarthy in a Puerto Rican telenovela. She was driving home and had a car crash because she couldn't understand what anybody was saying. She woke up in hospital and, of course, this extremely handsome doctor said “try on our new lip gloss”, because that will make all the difference. It was so funny. Melissa falls over and pops back up and has big hair, a gold dress and speaks Spanish. The lip gloss is the same as a hat.
BP: Who would be at your mad hatters tea party?
SJ: There's a famous photograph by Annie Leibovitz for a 2003 Vogue editorial. I was the Mad Hatter, Christian Lacroix was the March Hare and Natalia Vodianova was Alice. I have it in my office. I would invite Christian and Natalia to recreate that fun time we had. Oh, and Grace Coddington as she was the editor-in-chief. And probably Princess Julia. Oh and Natalia's husband Antoine Arnault. He’s a very fun, sweet man. I don’t know Christian very well, but I remember being backstage with him and someone told us we should work together. Christian said “no, never, ever. Doing the hats is the one part I really enjoy. You're not going to take that away from me.” That’s also what Marc Jacobs always said, “I love doing the hats and shoes. It's just the rest of it, which is a problem.”
CREDITS:
Stephen Jones at his Covent Garden studio in London. May, 2026.
Photographer and Director: Diana Gomez @dianagomezphoto
Film and Editing: Pat Dam Smyth @patdamsmyth_film
Art Director: Mauro Durant @mauro.durant
Words: Billy Parker @billymparker