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.”
Both will serve as markers of ten years of Charles Jeffrey Loverboy, a label born out of a sweaty Dalston basement club night, championed by fashion fairy godmother Lulu Kennedy (head of the agenda-setting Fashion East incubator programme) and articulation of a goth-fused, queer friendly scene which captured as all good scenes do, a fulsome, raucous moment in time.
Its conception is illustrative of the creativity that only London can galvanise - Glaswegian council-estate boy becomes obsessed with The Horrors and dreams of Central Saint Martins, comes to Hoxton, finds himself, his community, his voice.
Jeffrey’s originality was honed by the late, great (also Scottish) Louise Wilson, legendary director of Central Saint Martins MA fashion design course, who died suddenly ten years ago, while he was at the end of the first year with her.
It was at the boom time of London fashion when all of her “babies” as Jeffrey puts it, Jonathan Saunders, Christopher Kane, Richard Nicoll, Meadham Kirchoff, Gareth Pugh, were at their height. That success says Jeffrey “felt far away, but also like, this is achievable.”
All the people that were big in fashion in London were because of her. You’re in this room hearing pearls of wisdom that you need to absorb, it was electric
“I was a fit model before I got onto the course” he recalls, “I was always in tutorials because I was tall. [There was this] whole allure of her and her teaching, the drama, the performance… All the people that were big in fashion in London were because of her. You’re in this room hearing pearls of wisdom that you need to absorb, it was electric.” “Terrifying”, he adds, but electric.” He was devastated by her shock passing. “I’ve never cried more for someone dying. We’d built a weird bond. I got on really well with her, the Scottish thing, I used to get her lunch.”
Jeffrey’s existence at Saint Martins had long been a hustle. He worked various jobs to support himself, at Acne on Dover Street, brilliantly incongruously at Jack Wills in Angel, and at the George and Dragon; as well as applying for every scholarship and award available.
Loverboy, the club night held at Vogue Fabrics at the dingy end of Kingsland Road, started accidentally as his 24th birthday party in August of 2014.
“I was trying to look like one of my drawings” says Jeffrey of his first night look, “I painted myself blue, wore my BA big fake fur red jacket. It was about meeting and dating. I was listening to The Love Below by OutKast. The owner Lyle loved the night so much, he asked me to do it again…”
It became a reignition of sorts, a new gathering of London’s dramatically clad scenesters, in the tradition of the Blitz Kids, aping the extravagant looks from Boombox, the nu rave night at the Hoxton Bar and Grill which Jeffrey had followed from afar in Cumbernauld. The weekly night also solved two problems - it gave him an income, and through the artwork created to promote it, a ready made brand which began to inform his MA work. The Loverboy world - with its Warholian factory overtures - was born.
Post graduation he was picked up by Fashion East, before gaining New Gen sponsorship, a LVMH Prize and BFC/Vogue Fashion Fund nomination, as well as British Fashion Award for Best Emerging Menswear Designer in 2017.
His fashion shows have often veered towards provocatively spectacular performance pieces, framing an aesthetic that marries the flourish and fancy of the Westwood clad New Romantics with the darker Goth undertones of his beloved The Horrors. Celtic and historical references rub up against tartan and punkish knitwear, there’s shock factor but whimsical quintessential Britishness, too.
His last show outing in London was “the first September after the pandemic. I was like “I want to scare people, to do a McQueen, there’s a jungle, I want a car to explode…There were lasers and pagan people screaming…” “I’ve done a few romantic shows” he says, “but I always prefer being the weirdo in the room.” This time, things are a little more everyday (ish). “The show itself is the idea of going from day to night, how can Loverboy exist in someone’s world as they wake up until they fall asleep? I love Robert Smith, those old Smash Hits magazine photos of The Cure, just waking up in bed, reading the Beano, brushing their teeth, having a fry up but in that full look.”
It’s a reflection of the more necessarily commercial-minded label, which is supported via a minority stake by Tomorrow, the fashion group which also invests in Martine Rose, Coperni and Lucinda Chambers’ post-Vogue venture, Colville. But then you don’t get to be ten years old in this environment without an eye on the bottom line.
“I like Paul Smith” says Jeffrey, That company is amazing. I want to be someone that’s [around] for 50 plus years. I remember him saying in a talk, “You need to do your thing that gets you the pocket money.” He said one year, he made £7 million on cufflinks. I think that’s about being steeped in reality.” Jeffrey doesn’t do cufflinks, but he does have a strong line in his floppy eared beanie hats which are a cult and frequent bestseller.
“You want people to be able to see themselves [in the brand]. That is important but there’s also that thing of, OK, where’s the balance? Some people just think we’re a beanie [hat] brand.”
His current pondering is on how to reconcile those two elements, “It’s figuring out a way of steering the ship so that people who are picking up one thing can see something else in what you’re doing. And then the crowd that you want to nurture and bring forward with you, what are you doing in that space?”
It’s a healthy consideration for the label which pulls in around £5 million in revenue, much of it from wholesale accounts. In hindsight, he was fortunate that Matches had quietly dropped him (having been brought on and championed by its heyday buying director Natalie Kingham).
“We’ve been very lucky. We’ve had a big burst, we’ve got Dover Street (where his art installations are a feature), the hat explosion happened, it’s still expanding. But I’m always aware that it can go at any moment, we are at the mercy of the wholesale situation.”
His answer is to view the brand in a broader sense, ideas beyond just fashion. “It’s not just about clothes, [there’s] performance, nightlife, makeup, music, so many spaces we could capitalise on. My goal in the next three years is to try and put some seeds in another area. I’m conscious of how Loverboy exists in people’s lives, how can we entertain people that is less about product?”
Fashion is pop now, whereas before it had this niche element
Ten years is a long time in fashion which is why he’s keen to mark the moment. How hard would it be to launch Loverboy now? “London specifically, is very challenging for young people to come out and do things. It’s really difficult, but then” he pauses, “it’s also easy in that [with] social media and access that people can have with the quick virality of something… Fashion is pop now, whereas before it had this niche element. The democratisation of it through the diversification of it has meant that there’s so many other people that have been able to contribute to it, and that’s a good thing, but fashion has changed.”
What about London nightlife? Is it really on its knees?
“If you put your ear to the ground, there’s always something going on. It’s always happening. There’s obviously a pandemic of queer spaces.” Jeffrey though, at 33, has different priorities. “When I finish work, I want to go home” laughs the former party purveyor. “I just moved into a new place, I decorated over the weekend. I love it. I want to play video games, chill, maybe have a guy over for dinner, I’m sober again, which is really important to me.” A settled home is precious to the former army kid who moved around until his parents divorced when he was 10 and he settled with his mother and younger sister in Cumbernauld, outside Glasgow.
The exhibition at Somerset House will document the story of Loverboy, from its earliest club incarnation to pieces worn by Harry Styles and his current muse Tilda Swinton (who he dressed for a Vogue cover). Swinton is hopefully attending his show on Friday, too. He’s planning on sitting his mother next to her.
“She does this look sometimes for the show, it’s very Carolina Herrera, a long maxi skirt with a crisp white shirt. It’s quite fab.” His younger sister, who works at Barlinnie prison in Glasgow, won’t be there. “She’s on holiday in Japan. They keep me grounded” he chuckles.
The Lore of Loverboy, Somerset House, June 8th to 1st September
