I’ve always loved L’Wren Scott – for her glamour if not for her gorgeous and absolutely perfect clothing. The first time I had heard about her was from Harper’s Bazaar, where she was interviewed by Justine Picardie – one of my favourite editors – about her fashion label. I remember that interview with great lucidity even though it’s been years since I’ve read it because Justine showed so much sensibility and fondness for L’Wren that I thought, ‘wow, she must be both an amazing person and designer’. Justine wrote that L’Wren was the designer whose clothes every woman wanted to wear, making me aspire to wear her clothes too. I felt that they would somehow transform me. Justine’s words made such a difference and such an impact on my opinion of L’Wren.
Thinking back now to that interview, I cannot remember Justine hinting at any fragility or vulnerability with her interview subject. L’Wren was depicted as a strong, independent woman, someone with whom I strongly identified. But that L’Wren didn’t have anyone – apart from Mick maybe? – that she felt she could share her problems with is something I find extremely poignant and devastating. To the outside world, her life was perfect – and it was everything she wanted: a successful career in fashion, a rock-star boyfriend whom she loved, great friends. It has emerged however, that she was also a proud woman. Beneath the façade and image of perfection lay issues one can only imagine were never really addressed. Her independence and strength was a weapon as much as it was a weakness. She isolated herself when she had work do to – more so before her suicide through depression I guess – and was extremely focused on her career. I so admired that about her.
I would love to have known her as I think she was an amazing person, but it is a shame that that day will never come. I will always remember L’Wren Scott. May her legacy live long and our memories of her be always perfect.