As a young boy growing up in Dublin, Paul Costelloe, Ireland’s most famous and successful fashion designer, was hungry. But not for food, “I was hungry for excitement,” says Costelloe. “I painted. It was a way of getting my fantasies out.”
His fantasies, not surprisingly, were the antithesis of the romantic traditional images his clothes evoke today. “I painted crucifixes and prostitutes. My parents thought it was all rather nice. They were quite innocent, really.”
Paul Costelloe’s name has become synonymous with subtle designs in quality natural fibres with a particular bias towards traditional Irish linen. His illustrious past extends from apprenticeship in Paris to working in the other great fashion capitals — New York, Milan and London. Since the Paul Costelloe “House” was officially established in 1979 it has grown into a multi-million-pound concern, making him Britain’s and Ireland’s most commercially successful designer.
Not just a familiar Irish name, Costelloe is also linked with hot Latin blood as it traces its origin back to the Spanish Armada. This is not particularly noticeable in Paul, however. The striking good looks of this 6’4″ Irishman with blue eyes and fair hair appear to be more closely linked with a Viking than a Spanish invasion. “I take after my father,” Costelloe says.
His father William was born in Limerick, the son of a publican, and one of seven children. According to Frank McCourt, author of Angela’s Ashes, the incessant rain in Limerick sent people in droves to stay dry in the churches. William took a more pragmatic rather than pious approach to the constant downpour; he went into the textile business manufacturing rainwear.
On moving to Dublin, William Costelloe met a dark-haired American beauty, Catherine Curren, born in the Bronx to parents from Kerry and Kilkenny.
“I suppose it was sort of like the Titanic, two forces collide in the middle of the Atlantic, but with somewhat less cataclysmic results, I like to think,” says their son. “It was 1920. My mother had come to Dublin to stay with her cousins. She met my father and obviously the chemistry was right because he followed her back to America.”
Getting past Immigration proved a much tougher obstacle for the romantic William Costelloe than for the other passengers that day. When the boat docked in N.Y. harbour he had been forewarned to stay on board, in his cabin, while Catherine’s 6’5″ Irish American brother came aboard to check him out. Fortunately, he passed muster and they married shortly afterwards in New York’s celebrated St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
The newlyweds returned to live in Stillorgan, County Dublin. “Initially my mother found it quite tough in Ireland. The gap was much wider than she had expected between the comfort level of her life in America and her new life in Ireland.” The couple had seven children, Paul being the oldest son.
“It was a very strict upbringing. My mother was probably the stricter of the two, perhaps reflecting some of her own unhappiness in such a challenging different situation.
“While we were all proud of our beautiful American mother — she was quite glamorous, regularly had clothes from America — she would embarrass us occasionally when she would insist on enforcing her own anti-littering rules by going out onto the street to admonish offenders and pick up their discarded trash.
“When the American fleet was docked in Dublin our house was a `must’ place for the officers to visit. It wasn’t just that my mum was one of the few American hostesses in the area but there were my very pretty older sisters. From upstairs, my brother Robert and I would crack up at the sound of shrill nervous feminine laughter from the lawn below accompanying the click of mallet and croquet balls and chuckles of the U.S. naval officers.
“It was all quite beautiful and genteel. A rather idyllic sort of existence, in fact. Slightly spoiled, I suppose, by my parents’ tendency to quarrel quite a lot.”
For all his parents’ strictness and reported quarreling, it’s obvious from Costelloe’s devilish grin and easy, relaxed manner that he enjoyed a loving and affectionate relationship, too. Costelloe remembers, “The first time I was actually caught stealing money from my mother’s handbag, I was sent to the church’s confession box to tell the priest how much I had, in fact, stolen.” Any tendency to view this sort of thing as excessively disciplinarian vanishes as Costelloe cheekily assures one that his confession diminished the reported amount substantially, very substantially.
Any suggestion that there is some sort of Freudian link between Costelloe’s stylishly dressed mother and his four sisters and his own interest in female fashion is vehemently denied. But Freud is not to be totally dismissed. “It’s very simple. Sex! Basically just sex. I loved girls, although I did not have much success with them. I was so tall and skinny, I felt insecure. So I chased the housemaids. Not just our maids, any maids. There were a lot of them in Dublin in the ’50s. I would go, a tall lad of 13 or 14, to the local dance halls. I singled out the maids as the ones with blue legs. Blue from bad circulation caused by working in houses with a minimum of heating.
“It was sheer lust on my part and it was a class thing. I didn’t have the confidence to go after girls my parents would consider our social equals as I didn’t think I’d have much chance of success. Just maids,” Costelloe reflected happily.
Paul need not have been insecure about his appeal to the ladies if his present situation is anything to go by. Today he is pursued, professionally speaking, by ladies of all classes, even royalty.
The astonished feeling that Dorothy expressed in The Wizard of Oz with the line, “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” was never more appropriate than when Paul Costelloe found himself sitting in the drawing room of Kensington Palace in 1991. “I remember touching the sofa for reassurance, making sure I wasn’t just dreaming, as I sat there waiting for Princess Diana to walk in for her first sitting with me. This was before there were any reports that her marriage was in trouble.
“On another occasion I was very late for an appointment with the princess so I quickly grabbed several bunches of common garden variety flowers such as daisies and chrysanthemums from a street vendor. He wrapped them crudely in plain brown paper and off I dashed to the Palace.
“As soon as I saw the Princess, I awkwardly thrust the huge bouquet under her nose, hoping for forgiveness. Her face lit up with such genuine pleasure and happiness at my simple offering that I could immediately see that she must be starved for affection.”
The Duchess of York, aka “Fergie,” along with actress Faye Dunaway, singer-actress Liza Minnelli, Prince Edward’s girlfriend Sophie RhysJones, and both Irish Presidents, Mary McAleese and Mary Robinson, all wear Costelloe designs.
In the case of Princess Diana, she was a most avid customer for several years, wearing his designs while performing her royal duties throughout the world either alone or accompanied by Prince Charles or the Queen. Diana, renowned for her beauty and sense of style, was the best ambassador any fashion designer could ever hope to have; but it is with sincere respect and admiration for her as a person that Paul remembers his most beloved and celebrated customer. “She truly was very kind; her manners were impeccable. How I shall miss her!” He modestly explains their relationship, “I don’t actually design anything special for anyone. If they like the collection, they can simply order from it, just like anyone else.”
Perhaps, in part, Paul’s astonishment at where he sits today springs from the fact that as a happy-go-lucky teenager he devoted his time and energy to his ballroom escapades and having fun with the lads rather than academic success at school. “My friends were a pretty bad bunch. I certainly was not indoors drawing pretty dresses at the time. I used to pickpocket my father’s car keys and make off with the car. Once I managed to smash into three parked cars and couldn’t make a getaway because my car’s radiator packed up.
“You won’t believe this, but I actually went back to the house where my father was still sleeping, and took yet another set of keys to another of our cars, we had three. My intention was to use the second car to tow the first one back home. Instead, it was the police, who had arrived amidst the chaos, who were deciding who and what should be towed away.”
None of these antics pointed to a future brilliant career. “I went to Blackrock College in Dublin. It was a private school partly subsidized by the government. Bob Geldof and Archbishop Quaid both went there. As these examples show, it could have been a good education, but I learned nothing. Not the school’s fault, it was just that I was ave poor student.”
Such a poor student, in fact, that his parents took him out of school and sent him to work in a virtual pig factory. “It was in a sweet little village called Cappaquin on the River Backwater in Waterford. I collected, killed, cured the porkers and made sausages. Just about this time my brother Robert, who also painted and sculpted, stepped into the situation and gave me some guidance in a different direction.
“Knowing my artistic leanings, he suggested I go to a local design school, The Grafton Academy. At the Academy, I spent one year designing ladieswear but it still didn’t really hit me that I could and would design professionally. I always doubted my abilities but that’s what drives me on.”
Renowned for his charm and relaxed attitude, Costelloe feels his time spent in Pads as an apprentice, and as a designer in New York, Milan and London has made him comfortable in and of himself. “Happy in my own skin,” as he puts it.
“I really think it’s exciting to live and work in different cities. To speak the language and understand the lifestyle is so important. It’s sort of like being a voyeur. Perhaps that’s why I’m not so great as a holidaymaker, just getting a very casual glimpse at other worlds.
“I still think Pads is the greatest city to grow in, to develop in. It’s a safe city, it’s got culture, beauty and the food is excellent. The people are pretty hard; they don’t tolerate stupidity, so it keeps you on the edge. I think Milan is quite deliciously decadent, and while I learned a lot about life there, I still prefer Paris.”
Costelloe spent two years studying in Pads at the Chambre Syndical, from 1967 to `69, and then shopped around for someone to hire him. Eventually he started working for Jacques Esterel whose showroom was on the unglamorous Faubourg St. Honore. “It was the late sixties, Procul Harum’s hit `Whiter Shade of Pale’ was being played everywhere, Ungaro and Courreges were the hot designers at the time. I used to watch the Duchess of Windsor pop into hairdresser Alexandre, which was fight across the street, all great memories.”
After returning to England, where he designed for Marks and Spencer — the incredibly successful chainstore group, a British institution albeit not exactly upmarket — Costelloe did a stint in Milan. While he acknowledges the influences of Italian style on the cut and flair of his collections, it’s the subtle textures and colors of the cloth that are his trademark.
He designs two lines, one being the “Paul Costelloe Collection” an “urban chic” modern, classic collection with a look of casual elegance. It comprises formal and special occasion wear for the professional and socially active woman. The other label is his “Dressage Collection,” a nice play on the word usually identified with disciplined equitation. And, as one might expect, it’s a more “rural chic” offering in a more informal, romantic and relaxed mood, “Dressage” gets its inspiration from the countryside, reflected in the colors used.
“I was brought up in a hunting family, the local hunt was the I Bray Harriers. My parents and my sisters all rode to hounds. Everybody in the family hunted except me and Robert. My brother was born with a hole in the heart so he was not allowed to fide horses and, so as not to make him feel left out, neither was I. I didn’t mind at all except that it was pretty boring following the hunt by car all the time.
“It was not the local hunt which inspired my Dressage Collection. It was on a summer’s evening in 1992 when I came back from my design studio in Kilgallon in Northern Ireland to my hotel room. I turned on the TV and there on the BBC was a demonstration of dressage. I was transfixed by the fantastic control the riders had over their horses. I immediately saw potential for an additional collection.”
Control has played a significant role in Costelloe’s professional and private life. “Having seven children of my own has motivated me to be commercially successful.” He denies any religious influence as a reason for having so many children. “My father was one of seven children, then I was one of seven and it just seemed right that I should have seven, too. It’s always that thing of achieving. I wanted to be the equal of my father. It’s more a masculine approach than a Catholic one, for me anyway. Some people have a boat in Monte Carlo, I have seven children in Dublin. It’s marvelous when you go out to eat in a restaurant. You take a big table, sit at the top of it, and looking at my children gives me a lot of pride.”
It was not an Oedipal thing with him. “I got on well with my father. I respected his fairness, his sense of justice in general. He was a very uncomplicated, honest man. He used to refer to Northern Ireland as `occupied Ireland.’ His philosophy was that the only way Ireland would ever be united was by the gun. The fact that Gerry Adams can now go to meetings at Downing Street means he hasn’t been proven wrong. But we must carry on with the peace effort.”
Princess Diana, renowned for her beauty and sense of style, is the best ambassador any fashion designer could ever hope to have; but it is with sincere respect and admiration for her as a person that Paul remembers his most beloved and celebrated customer.”
Costelloe’s love for his country is reflected in his designs. He is passionately aware of the environment and devotes many hours of research to resourcing beautiful fabrics which are more ecologically sound.
As a heterosexual rugby-playing married man with seven children, Paul Costelloe is a rare commodity in the world of fashion design. “I was such an Irish amadán (Irish for `fool’) that it didn’t really occur to me that anyone in the business might have been gay. Sometimes I feel disadvantaged in the sense I have to control myself so much by not talking or making light about this aspect of the trade. But the truth is, it didn’t matter then and it doesn’t matter now.”
His creativity has been recognized by the International Linen Council who have rewarded him with the prestigious Fil D’or Award on three occasions. “Irish linen used to grow mainly in Ulster. The plant needs a lot of water. You find it now mostly in Northern France around Calais. Like mining, working in the linen mills was a tough job. It could also be hazardous to your health. The flax fibres got into your lungs.
“When my father manufactured raincoats in the fifties there was trade protection in Ireland. There were no imports allowed. I suppose it was a way of making employment. Sometimes I wonder if trade protection should have carded on, but then I suppose we would have ended up commercially isolated like Cuba.”
During the 1980’s the figure-hugging-lycra dresses and leggings of Tunisian designer Azzedine Alaia rocked the fashion world and sent body-conscious females hot-footing it to aerobic classes at their local gyms. Costelloe remained unaffected by such theatrical, short-lived trends, staying close to his inherent love of traditional classicism.
Among the London-based designers, Paul Costelloe has the largest market share. He currently sells in the U.K., Ireland, Europe, Scandinavia and the Far East. His flagship London store close to Harrod’s is in the heart of Knightsbridge, and his clothes are also available at Harrod’s, Fenwick’s and Brown Thomas in Dublin, to name a few.
Costelloe has designed a menswear line, accessories and a collection of houseware. “Probably the most pleasant time I have now, it may seem odd, is working on the launch of my crystal line and trying to develop the whole `Lifestyle Collection’! My ambition is also to have an exhibition of my paintings.”
Costelloe manages to paint while holidaying en famille in either Italy or France or the Aran Isles. “The idea of Willem de Kooning, whose work I greatly admire, managing to continue to paint whilst losing his mind to Alzheimer’s intrigues me. It was his sense of the aesthetic that caused him to act on romantic impulse in his paintings.”
Perhaps it was because of his own acute sense of the aesthetic that, in true Costelloe style, Paul acted on romantic impulse one day when, just like his father before him, he chased a girl across the platform at Dublin train station. So, he didn’t exactly brave the elements and cross the Atlantic in the name of love, but his passion was just as great when he spotted a great-looking girl wearing something he had designed. “It was the unorthodox way she was wearing it that caught my eye. She looked so great, I ran after her along the street and introduced myself as the designer of the skirt she was wearing.”
From the moment he caught up with Ann, who became his wife and the mother of his seven children, she has been wearing his designs.
When he spotted her she was wearing one of his short tweed skirts with a slit on one side but it was her unconventional ankle socks and high heels which really intrigued him. “Her individual style and young approach to life is still an inspiration to me today. Just recently I flew back to Dublin on a Friday night and then went straight to a ball to meet my wife.
“When I walked into the large reception I was immediately bowled over by the sight of Ann, all over again. She was wearing a short sequined skirt with a simple sleeveless top, but with a huge bow in her hair. I thought, God, she does look great!”
Apart from marrying Ann and the birth of his first son, Costelloe’s proudest moment was when he was asked to design the uniforms for 15,000 men and 7,000 women, the uniformed staff of British Airways. “They built half of a plane at Canary Wharf in London to launch the uniform. It was a very emotional moment for me to watch the staff coming down the steps of the aircraft to the sound of dramatic music.”
All things considered, Paul Costelloe, proved not to be such an amadán after all.
Editor’s Note: This article was originally published in the July/August 1998 issue of Irish America. ⬥
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