A New Way Forward

In an era of ever-more visibility and exposure for both fashion and those who wear it, Givenchy's Sarah Burton has built her reputation on exquisite, hands-on invention and an intimate discretion.

- By Gaby Wood

"Just come forward to the mirror for me a second?"

Sarah Burton is standing in a grand studio at Givenchy in Paris, about to embark on a day of fittings for her first spring collection as creative director. A fit model, Hana Grizelj, moves toward her in a calico dress with white organza draping. Notations are written in blue pencil across each bra cup: gauche/droite. Nearby, pale boned dresses and black structured jackets hang on a rail as if worn by ghosts. Burton is wearing what she calls her uniform: jeans, white Converse sneakers, and a collarless white cotton shirt—one of many run up for her by Judy Halil, a pattern-cutter who has worked with her for 23 years.

While other designers might do a few sketches and, eventually, have a look at the final results, Burton has become known for building the clothes herself, working with a live model. She moves at speed into multiple dimensions, variously cutting, pinning, and deciding on fabric, or the shape of the season's shoulder. (“You can look at it on a stand,” she tells me, “but it’s so different on a body.”) At Givenchy, Burton's colleagues tell visitors, only half-jokingly: “Don't put your coat on the rail—it might get cut up.”

“Maybe a crepe de chine lining, so it’s soft,” Burton says to the studio staff.

She stands next to Hana, looks in the mirror, and squints.

“Does the corset need to be as long as this?”

The corset comes up by two and a half inches.

“This should be a bit shorter.”

In one swift movement, she shears a mane of organza from Hana's spine before kneeling on the floor, pincushion around her wrist, and attacking the hem with scissors.

“Keep turning for me, Hana....”