While studying for his A levels, John Alexander Skelton thought about getting into politics. “But then clothes took more of a grip at that point, even though I didn’t really realise that I could do something in fashion,” he reminisces. So rather than charging into parliament, Skelton turned his rebellious determination towards making a name for himself in the world of menswear. But he was always going to do it his own way. “I really understood what I didn’t want to do – which was designing to someone else’s brief,” he says. It’s this perennial sense of independence that makes Skelton unlike any other designer creating today.
After graduating with a BA from the London College of Fashion, Skelton spent a few years working in the industry and then completed an MA at Central Saint Martins in 2016. So far, so typical of a designer’s story, right? Well, it was during his masters that this York native defined his own creative ethos, still very much present in his label today: a dedication to exploring sociopolitical topics through design, while executing the garments so as to have minimal impact on the environment and maximum levels of quality. After 17 collections, his clothes are unmistakably his – both in how they look and in the way they are made. To summarise his manifesto would be a Sisyphean task – and one Skelton visibly cringes over multiple times during our two-hour interview. He hates defining himself, but admits his view of fashion is fundamentally contrarian. “My work is sort of reactionary to what is supposed to be modern now. Whatever the modern silhouette is, I really quite dislike it. And so I want to react against it and do something that’s completely different and sometimes quite flamboyant. It is a real reaction against what you see around you. There’s a bit of a rebellion within that which I’m really attracted to.”
I always want to subvert everything. Even if it’s just putting something in a different context, like cutting a fabric that was traditionally used for something else.
Skelton doesn’t comply with traditional seasons. Instead of spring/summer and autumn/winter, he simply labels his collections with roman numerals. “My parameters are that I have to go to Paris twice a year. Which is the part that I don’t like, though I understand that structure is, in its most basic form, necessary,” he admits – a rare example of obeying the status quo. You also can’t buy any of his pieces online, bar a few available on resale sites. The brand’s website is simply a list of global stockists, a scanned handwritten note that namechecks some of the most prestigious concept stores in the world, Dover Street Market included. “I was and have been really strict with the way that I sell the clothes. So, no one can put anything on sale. I have a lot of terms with stores, which is a constant battle.”
But once you jump through all the hoops and find your way into the world of John Alexander Skelton, the effort is definitely worth it. His passionate – and patient – legions of fans agree. “I like that John’s clothes have strong characters and stories behind every piece,” says London-based creative Sei Fujii. “They don’t work very easily with other clothes and you have to really submerge yourself into John’s world. It’s nice that his clothes almost challenge you to understand and be the right person to wear them.”
Journalist and photographer Mark C O’Flaherty credits Skelton with rekindling his relationship with fashion. “I don’t have a perfect life – I am quite messy and I damage things a lot, and John’s clothes suit my life. They aren’t precious.” Similarly, set designer Simon Costin finds an element of relatability in the pieces: “I have always felt a slight disconnect with the age we live in and wearing John’s clothes takes me somewhere else, somewhere in between this time and another. Not in a nostalgic, misty-eyed way, but in a gritty, relevant way.”
Skelton’s garments take cues from the past but are reimagined for today, cut in the finest, rarest, locally sourced fabrics, many dyed in the studio with natural materials like avocado stones. His pieces take hours, days, sometimes even weeks to make – a response to the processes that have become standard in fashion today. But this purist approach to design isn’t here to create an illusion of grandeur – it’s about finding beauty in time and respecting traditional ways of making. “It’s finding something that no one else is doing anymore. And my fascination does not necessarily come from it being old, but because it’s unusual, it’s something more esoteric.” Skelton might take elements of history as his basis but he continuously finds ways to go deeper and develop a sense of fiction around it, with characters and narratives that are original to his own world. “You tweak those things and make them your own, as well, which is even more interesting. I always want to subvert everything, I don’t want to take on something literal at face value. Even if it’s just putting something in a different context, like cutting a fabric that was traditionally used for something else.”
For one of his recent collections, numbered CXVI, Skelton looked at the origins of gothicism, tracing it to the clerical dress of the Catholic church. The same collection also took cues from one of the designer’s all-time favourite bands. “It was inspired by the music of This Mortal Coil, which is quite dramatic in a lot of senses, so I wanted to express that within the clothing, too. I listen to their music a lot when working; it has a dreamlike quality that makes you daydream and takes you to a different place.”
Challenging the traditional format of a fashion show, the collection was presented on a candlelit catwalk running down the aisle of St Bartholomew-the-Great, London’s oldest parish church, dating back 900 years. One of the standout pieces was a high-waisted, floor-length scarlet coat with 32 buttons down the centre, its silhouette based on vintage priests’ vestments that John’s brother Ryan found at a flea market in Rome.
In turn, the designer’s latest collection, CXVII, was crafted around the notion of “freedom to roam” – exploring the countryside through hikes and walks, a practice that dates back centuries yet still has a prominent presence in culture. Some of Skelton’s historic references to rambling included the mass trespass of Kinder Scout, a 1932 protest that changed general perception on open countryside walking, as well as the Sheffield Clarion Ramblers club and even pilgrimage routes connected to the 12th-century archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Becket. Skelton’s interpretations collide with his aversion for contemporary activewear and the exploration of silhouettes that are considered as early examples of hiking gear. “A lot of those clothes are very tailored but also quite specific to the task at hand.”
Unlike many designers today, Skelton’s focus when developing his brand isn’t around making more, faster, bigger, cheaper. Instead, he chooses to slow down and celebrate skills that are dying off in order to allow for exploration of complex, archaic ideas with contemporary ideologies. He chooses collaborators with the same MO: individuals dedicated to executing even the most complicated ideas without cutting corners. Irish jewellery designer Slim Barrett is one, and Skelton describes him as being able to “make anything you want.” Often upcycling silver and bronze, they create objects that reflect prints and textiles in a three-dimensional context, like a chaplet with spiked flowers or halfpenny drop earrings. In the footwear department, the expertise comes from Berlin-based cordwainer Matthias Winkler, who creates everything from recycled and deadstock leathers. “It’s truly handmade – he even uses wooden nails to nail the layers of the sole together.”
And then there’s the hats; accessories that have become a quintessential part of the signature John Alexander Skelton silhouette. “I work with Stephen Jones, who is really good at doing hats that have a personality and a certain narrative. But Rachel Frost is making hats in a really laborious way. She sent me a picture the other day of a sample hat she was dying, and it was a cauldron on top of burning wood.” Based in the Scottish Borders, Frost makes her own felt and produces each piece without any electricity, but with methods true to the original periods of its inspiration. “Working with artisans like that, I feel like I’m learning about things all the time – whether it’s something craft-based or some cultural phenomenon,” Skelton says.
As the relevance of haute couture continues to be lamented in fashion circles, this designer’s work feels like a fresh response that proves just how impactful and groundbreaking high craftsmanship can be. Whether you end up wearing one of his pieces or not, the values of John Alexander Skelton herald a way forward. A path that is bold, optimistic and radical in its righteousness. Now if only we could get him to reconsider that political career…