Charles Jeffrey appears in the courtyard of Somerset House, a vibrant beacon of purple kilted and suited, skirting seven-foot in his platforms, shock of black hair, Elizabethan white-powdered face, full red lips. He is the perfect visual representation of his gregarious, outspoken personality. The antithesis of quiet luxury, a balm in the face of rising fashion blandness. He describes his look as “Robert Smith meets Commes [des Garçons]”. These days this isn’t the norm for him, “I don’t have time” he laughs, but he’s currently getting into the mood for his upcoming show and exhibition (both at Somerset House where his studio is also based). “I need to dress up to get into the vibe, that will hopefully help me articulate it in the show.”
