Phoebe Philo’s Chloé Was Phoebe Philo at Her Finest

I think I’ve entered in my life a period of pure and consummate promiscuity.

It’s complete coital liberation – I’m bed-hopping between beds and alternating between lovers. I’m feeling fickle; today it’s one, tomorrow it’s the other, and the day after tomorrow, well, who knows what’s in store, right? I’m living my best Carrie Bradshaw life, a new arm candy on the arm every week.

But said lovers aren’t living, breathing mortals (or at least, not necessarily). 

They are, in fact, lewks—not just an outfit but an entire aesthetic. They’re personalities I get to don early in the morning and shed in the dark of the night: one day, I’m the ind0mitable dominatrix, all ripped denim and leather; the next, I’m a demure Upper East Sider in a peacoat and tailored pants.

It’s not like I’m doing ultra-megawatt things, either. Perhaps I’m simply on a morning coffee run, or out and about in the afternoon ferrying around boxed-up lunches, or arranging a rendezvous with a friend. 

But I’m finally at that stage where I’m living in my clothes. Clothes that, as far as personal style goes, are pretty much all over the place. Yet, clothes that are well and truly me. I am, after all, large, and I contain multitudes.

And another such individual who contains multitudes to herself? 

The singular madame Phoebe Philo, patron-saint to Philophiles, the Sphinx of sensible styling, and also the woman with fake gold teeth, witchy black nails, and an East End cockney? Clearly, there’s a lot more to Ms. Philo than meets the eye, and today, we’re throwing it back to her Chloé days to dig deeper!

By the Women, for the Women

Within the luxury conglomerate multiverse and its dire drought of creative directorship diversity, Chloé has always been the shining beacon of exception. 

Founded by Gabriella “Gaby” Aghion, the label has since been headed by a long line of women: Stella McCartney, Natacha Ramsay-Levi, Claire Waight Keller, Phoebe Philo, Gabriela Hearst (another Gaby!), and as of October 2023, Chemena Kamali, only a lone Karl Lagerfeld having served two stints there.

Even its naming – after Aghion’s dear friend Chloé Huysmans – takes after the well-off women without the time to spare for custom couture fittings (mind you, it’s Paris in the ’50s we’re talking about). And Chloé’s creations – wearable chic separates straight off the peg – formed the foundations of prêt-à-porter as we know it, almost a decade before Yves Saint Laurent, widely credited as the founder of ready-to-wear, opened his first boutique on the 6th arrondissement.

But Philo’s entry into the label – shortly after a Central Saint Martins graduate collection featuring “a pair of trousers that made my arse look good, rather than a pair that represented the Holocaust or something” – came thanks to her dear friend and predecessor, Stella McCartney. 

And upon joining as the first assistant to the latter’s creative director position, the duo’s camaraderie shaped much of the Chloé DNA, appearing together on the inaugural cover of Pop Magazine cradling red-hot stripper poles, sending models down the runway with pineapple prints in anatomically inappropriate places – sometimes to the scandalizing tune of the Monicagate sermon – and really, just defining what it meant to be a cool Brit it-girl at the time.

The Ready-to-Wear Revolution

When you think of Philo’s Chloé, you immediately think of the Paddington, the sui generis of satchels that Sarah Mower of Vogue reported about in 2009: “Every one of the 8,000 made in spring 2005 was spoken for before it reached the stores.” Net-a-Porter reportedly sold 376 units in the first 36 hours online. Global waitlists ran in excess of 700 names, even though it “didn’t come with a care note like the beloved Paddington bear, but a price tag of about $1,400.”

But before all of that, Phoebe Philo was a self-professed, angry young graduate, “complete with mockney accent, diamante nails and a gold tooth” and an urban edge hitherto unheard of at the conservative design house.

Upon her appointment as McCartney’s successor, she steered the brand away from the overtly whimsical “Keep your bananas off my melons” tees and equestrian imagery (“Horses are so magical, so superior,” McCartney claimed) towards a more wearable, everyday kind of luxury. 

There were babydoll dresses and sock boots, louchely-hanging leather jackets, and lived-in jeans. But unlike her celebrity creative contemporaries, Philo’s pieces were rarely over-conceptualized or intellectualized. Inspiration could strike from anywhere – magazines, music, flea markets (Bay Garnett’s thrifted banana-print top on Kate Moss from a 2003 British Vogue editorial inspired a whole slew of banana-print pieces on the SS2004 runway) – and intuitively worked into the women themselves who were working behind the scenes.  

As Kamali narrates to Vogue, “What really struck me was that the studio—Phoebe (Philo), Hannah (MacGibbon), Blue Farrier, and Sara Jowett—all these women were living it themselves,” adding, “It was very much rooted in reality.”

And “like A24 movies and Shake Shack vegan custard, Philo’s creations were the rare critical darlings that also kept selling out,” writes InStyle.

But of course, it was her bags that really stole the show.

Great Gowns Bags, Beautiful Gowns Bags

Of course, there was the Paddington, with its ponderous padlock and clunky clout, that was the bestseller, not to mention worth its full weight in gold. It dared users all around to complain about its weight and almost singlehandedly bumped the brand’s revenues by 60% worldwide and 80% in the US in 2005. 

But there was also the Silverado, seen on girls frolicking across the Luxembourg Gardens in knee-high python boots and ponchos, shot by Inez and Vinoodh. There was the Edith, a big player now thanks to Gabriela Hearst’s revival of the utilitarian bowler, or the Betty, a multi-pocketed, ultra-Y2K carryall. And, of course, there were countless nameless styles, replete with chains, buckles, and now-useless flip-phone pockets, lost to the depths of Poshmark and eBay.

And now, Phoebe-era Chloé seems to be slowly weaving its way back into the zeitgeist. Present-day it-girl (and certified brat) Rachel Sennott braved the snow to the Sundance Film Festival in Utah with her very own vintage Paddy in tow.

Then Julia Hobbs of British Vogue walked the Oxfam runway during London Fashion Week, wedged in true Chloé Girl fashion between Swinging Sixties icon Penelope Tree and political activist and fashion designer Katharine Hamnett, in that same banana-print tee Bay Garnett had thrifted two decades ago!

And even Philo’s latest venture into an eponymous label is replete with nods to her Chloé years – be it that gleefully gaudy MUM necklace, the sequined and feathered party dresses, those luxe, loose-hanging overcoats, or trousers that unzip all the way up to your nether regions.

As Tiffany Darke writes in her Substack, “Women who grew up with Phoebe are having sex, and it’s better than ever.” They’re liberated, powerful and exquisite beings. And like yours truly, they refuse to fall under a single sub-genre of style. 

Featured image: Polina Kouklina with a gilded Chloé bag. Photographed by Raymond Meier, Vogue, December 2004