By Vivienne’s side—now and for more than 30 years of their colorful shared lives—stands her husband, Andreas Kronthaler, the dashing, tender artistic director of their fashion label. We discuss the Amazonian-wild-rubber dress they’ve designed for me to wear to the Met Gala tonight and Chico Mendes, the wild-rubber-tapping activist who lost his life fighting to protect the rainforest. Vivienne listens intently, as always, then shares her observations, gesticulating—palms out—for emphasis. Vivienne Westwood, Andreas Kronthaler and Lily Cole attend the Costume Institute Gala for the "PUNK: Chaos to Couture" exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on May 6, 2013.Larry Busacca/Getty Images
Later, Andreas calls from the doorway, “I’m going downstairs, Vivienne.” “You have to wait for me a minute,” she bats back, with a cheeky smile. She’s mid spiel, relaying with unstoppable passion Manning’s plight, her sea-colored eyes afire under the red waves she’s drawn over them. Her gaze pierces with a desperate appeal to truth. She’s been calling truths out to us all for decades. Which is why, this April 2013 day, Vivienne has traveled to New York, accepting vogue’s invitation to attend the punk-themed Met Gala despite the paradoxes implied. She and Andreas are here to bring messages to the widest possible audience. “We’re out for the cause!” Andreas urges me, playfully enacting how I might talk to the cameras about the rainforest.
Iris Law in a pair of breech-inspired trousers at the Christian Dior spring 2023 ready-to-wear show. Paris, spring 2023 ready-to-wear When he was at Gucci, Alessandro Michele added an eccentric touch to equestrian styles. Milan, spring 2023 ready-to-wear Scene: a hotel room in New York, one spring morning in 2013. I’m staring at a photograph of a young soldier with the word TRUTH emblazoned underneath her tentative smile in white font and a red box like a Barbara Kruger, pinned to Vivienne Westwood’s “Climate Revolution” DIY top. “It’s incredible no one knows who this is. You don’t know who she is?” Vivienne asks me in her soft Derbyshire lilt. She audibly gasps as I shake my head. “It’s amazing. Amazing. I’m here to try and do something about her.” The photograph, I quickly learn, is of whistleblower Chelsea Manning.
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