Lucky to work alongside the icon at Vogue, New Zealand-born stylist Kathryn Neale reflects on his influence in fashion - and the people around him.

André Leon Talley, Vogue’s groundbreaking creative director, passed away unexpectedly last week. I was lucky enough to work alongside him at American Vogue and have been reflecting on his influence, not just in fashion, but also on the people around him.

André grew up in Jim Crow era North Carolina and was raised by his grandmother, a maid at Duke University. He was awarded a scholarship to Brown University where he studied French Literature. His first job was as an unpaid apprentice for famed editor Diana Vreeland at New York’s Metropolitan Museum. 

From there André went on to work at Interview Magazine under Andy Warhol, and began writing for Women’s Wear Daily, eventually becoming their Paris Bureau Chief. By the time André landed at American Vogue he was already a legend in the fashion industry. A hair under 2 metres tall, and often the only African American in the room, André claimed his space in the world with humorous vigour.

I will never forget the first time I met André. It was the first time I had met any of my husband’s family. Sam was my boyfriend then, and we were attending a family wedding. A momentary lapse in judgement meant that I had spent my entire month’s rent on a dress by Jane Mayle for the event. It was a case of the rent or the dress, and I had gone mad with desire and bought the dress.

When I walked into the reception, still worried about my rent, André tore across the lawn to interrogate me. “Who are you and what are you wearing?” I had never been so flattered. I knew exactly who he was, and of his accomplishments. He was nodding with approval at my ensemble. The rent was suddenly less important. And I still have that Mayle dress.

At Vogue, André was never in the office very often - he split his time between Paris, New York, and exotic elsewheres. But the whole energy changed when he was there. You would hear him coming before you saw him; salutations and compliments to everybody he walked by. Guffaws of laughter would emanate from his tiny office the whole time he was there. All of the editors waited with baited breath for his insight on the most recent collections. Nobody knew more about fashion, its history, the muses, the politics of it all, than André.

Years after my first encounter, I bought my wedding dress at an Alberta Ferretti sample sale for $150. Anna Wintour, my boss, recommended sending it to Alberta in Milan to be fitted. This was an automatic yes from me as it meant I got to go to Milan during show season so Alberta could see me in the dress. André attended each fitting and was as loud as I was shy.

Bridesmaids dresses came up and André helped pick four very different styles to allow for various body shapes. He then pulled his lavender pocket square out of his suit jacket and insisted the dresses be a mix of berry colours paired with light lavender. He told Alberta to keep the silk pocket square for reference. André was generous in many ways, with his time and his pocket squares.

I remember getting ready to leave when André shouted, “Your honeymoon suit!”  “André, I’m going to Tahiti. I won’t need a suit,” I replied. But of course, André flapped away my concerns and launched himself into the showroom to select me the most beautiful emerald green slip dress with matching taffeta coat. Both pieces I still have and wear often, never without thinking of André. 

At Manolo Blahnik, André wanted my wedding sandals to be embellished with beads. “But nobody will even see them under the dress,” I remember protesting. André ignored me and insisted Manolo add the beads. 

For André, fashion wasn’t just about what people saw, it was about how special I would feel wearing the beaded shoes. André understood that, and now, many years later, I understand it, too. If I am working on a costume for an actor, my main concern is not how to make them look like the character, it’s about how to make them feel like the character. That's a lesson I learned from André.

If you have not yet read either of his incredible memoirs, ALT: A Memoir or The Chiffon Trenches, I highly recommend picking them up. If you're not a big reader, then you can watch the documentary, The Gospel According to André by Kim Novac. 

I feel incredibly lucky to have been around such a groundbreaking icon, who also happened to be a very generous soul.