by Claude Montana, the French fashion designer, who has probably died aged 74, defined the exaggerated silhouettes that characterized power dressing women in the 1980s, when he was called the “King of the Shoulder Pad”.
At first, Montana’s aggressive, construction-influenced silhouettes wowed critics and buyers alike. His first collection, in 1979, made almost entirely of leather, provoked a volley of abuse. Critics described it as “flashy, trashy, and demeaning to women” and “hooker fashion”. He was accused of being misogynistic and of promoting a “neo-Nazi” aesthetic, although his sexuality seems more like the gay subculture he was an active member of than any political movement.
However, his razor-sharp tailoring, skill with leather, and masterful use of color meant that by the mid-eighties, Montana’s catwalk shows – with their gorgeous Amazonian models, were the hottest ticket in town. What Montana did one season, others copied the next. Cher, Barbra Streisand, Diana Ross, Grace Jones, Elizabeth Taylor and Sally Field all played Claude Montana – as did Don Johnson, Bruce Willis and Mickey Rourke.
By the end of the Eighties, his fashion empire included women’s and men’s clothing; licenses for products such as scarves, ties and eyewear, and a best-selling perfume, Montana Pour Femme.
Then things started to go terribly wrong. In 1989 he turned down the job of chief designer at Christian Dior because the task was too demanding for him. “I need a room,” he told the Washington Post. “I don’t want to have all this money and go to an asylum.” The job went to Gianfranco Ferre. Later that same year, the sick house of Lanvin hired Montana to do its haute couture. Montana won the Golden Thimble, the main couture award, two seasons in a row, but Lanvin was losing too much money on couture and did not renew his contract.
Even by fashion industry standards his dismissal was brutal. His employer called the press hours after showing his January collection in 1991 to announce that Montana was out. The very sensitive designer was devastated.
He was badly wounded, quit his ready-to-wear business and continued to produce leather bomber jackets and zipper-encrusted dresses. But his designs looked old-fashioned amongst the grunge, waif and romantic looks that monopolized the catwalks in the early 90s. His futuristic all-white autumn womenswear collection was praised in 1995, and Women’s Wear Daily said “nobody beats Montana for his precision tailoring”, but it wasn’t enough to stop the slide in sales.
Meanwhile, his personal life fell apart. In 1993, after being smitten by his longtime male companion, Montana surprised his friends when he married his androgynous catwalk muse, Wallis Franken. In what was widely seen as a cynical move to bolster a floundering career, he staged the wedding in July, in the middle of Paris couture week, the bride’s gauzy white satin jacket over a tunic and trousers contrasting with the buckskin suit of the groom.
Three years later Madame Montana committed suicide by diving headfirst from the kitchen window of their apartment in the seventh arrondissement of Paris, while her husband slept in her bedroom. Her jewelery was left neatly on the kitchen table. Friends of the model, and many in the industry, indirectly blamed Montana. Not only did Wallis have to put up with her husband’s addiction to the gay club scene, and his hold on her, he allegedly began mocking her as “old and ugly”.
The following year Montana filed for bankruptcy.
According to various reliable sources, Claude Montana was born in Paris on June 29, 1949, to a German mother and a Catalan father, although some sources claim that he was born two years earlier – in 1947. He fell into fashion by chance when he tried his he is a father. to convince him to follow in the footsteps of his older brother, a scholar who is engaged in chemical research. “I had to leave town”, he said.
He and a friend went to England, with no job prospects and no money. “We remembered a Mexican recipe to make bracelets out of toilet paper, glue and rhinestones,” he said. They baked the papier mache jewelery in an oven at night and sold it on street stalls during the day. In 1971 his designs appeared in British Vogue, and he was able to make a living for another six months, until he was asked to leave the country because he did not have a work permit.
Montana returned to Paris, but failed to stimulate any interest in his jewelery designs. Instead he tried to get odd jobs as an extra in musicals and movies. Openly gay, he had black leather, a Hitler mustache and dyed orange hair, and was rarely seen without a cigarette.
Finally, a friend who made ballet costumes suggested that he should move into fashion, and he got a job as a design assistant at a leather company called MacDouglas, taking over when the designer left. He held his first fashion show in 1976. In 1978, he told Women’s Wear Daily, “Next season the shoulders will be the biggest I can do on everything.” So much so, retailers later complained, that the clothes fell off the hangers. In 1979 he founded his own label.
From the beginning, Montana’s sexuality influenced her approach to design. A restless clubber, he was forever seen at Club Sept, a nightclub in Paris, at the head of a phalanx of leather-clad young men. So it’s no surprise that his women’s clothing attracted the world he knew so well. He also admired uniforms, making variations on the outfits worn by aviators, sailors, factory workers and even members of the French Academy.
Over the years, Montana has tortured his image as a perfectionist. He was known to stay up all night before a show, throwing tantrums over the slightest imperfection. He used to steer clear of large social gatherings, even when he was the guest of honor. During one fashion week in Tokyo, when he was one of five designers whose work was on view, he turned down an invitation to a large dinner and was instead seen at a nightclub, where he stayed until 6 o’clock in the morning. It was not universally popular.
In 1998 a group of French investors led by a former manager of the Nina Ricci perfume house took over the Montana fashion business for about $821,000. Ironically, part of the deal required Montana to give up the rights to his name, something he had fought hard for in the past. However, the designer would retain the right to design the house for another ten years.
Montana seemed happy with the arrangement and, freed from the pressure of running a business, quickly retreated. In 1999 he unveiled Montana Blu, an affordable clothing line for hip young women, which was successful enough to spawn his own fragrance. Later, as fashion returned to harder, sculpted styles, Montana became an inspiration for a new generation of designers, including Alexander McQueen.
Claude Montana, born 29 June 1949, announced death 23 February 2024
