I’m creating more celebrity suits than I’d like. There is something not quite couture about a celebrity assignment; it feels more like an exercise in publicity than a true expression of the sartorial arts. Not that I mind celebrities. They have fascinating stories, unique personalities, and are great for getting reservations at popular restaurants—it just that they tend to be more insecure about their own physical armature than a traditional couture client.
Also, in general, they seem more interested in how a piece will photograph than how it looks to the naked eye. The details of couture are hard to see in a tiny digital photo posted on someone’s best dressed for the beach list. Sometimes a celebrity client (or their publicist) will push for something that will show up in a photograph, rather than what makes the most sense for the piece itself. This is why logos have grown larger in the camera phone/internet era.
In person, my suits are remarkable for the fact that you can’t actually see any stitches, unless of course I specifically foreground them as visual details. Hidden pick-stitches and locked under-tucks are never going to show up on a camera phone. In the flesh, however, there is something arresting about that fact that with a Serg Riva suit, the fabric just stops. No hem or seam is visible. The result is both seductive and unsettling. It is like seeing a person with perfect skin in full sunlight or a ski run with completely virgin snow; the plentitude is astounding.
All couture is like this. I just happen to do it for swimwear.
