“Well OK, but I’d like to start at the beginning. Yes, let’s start there.” And so begins my conversation with Giles Deacon, sitting in his East London studio.
I’ve asked him to share a little about his creative influences, hoping then to tease out more specific details of his upbringing. I’d hoped he’d perhaps recount some more intimate stories of his creative awakenings surrounded by countryside, his journey to the raw and expressive London Soho scene in the late 1980s, and the extraordinary rise to fame that followed. That was the plan, anyway.
But no – Deacon is a force of nature. Much like the natural world he’s inspired by, he’s very clear about what he wants to share and the order in which he shares it.
I read an article describing Deacon as ‘the nicest man in fashion’, and I can see why. He has a warm and inclusive countenance on the one hand – I’m in genuine raptures over his beautiful watercolours dotted around the studio, the fluid forms of womanhood and the natural world colliding elegantly, and he’s beaming – but on the other, he can be unsmiling, rigidly but politely firm when he has to be.
“Nothing personal about Gwendoline,” he asserts without any prompt to the statement. His fierce protection of his long-term partner [Game of Thrones actress Gwendoline Christie] is admirable, but unnecessary in this instance, as I assure him, I’m here to talk about Giles Deacon the designer and all-round interesting human, not his girlfriend.
He immediately softens again as we ease further into the interview – which he’s deftly reordered.

“My process is important. My time at Central St Martins was hugely instrumental in my approach to design in all its forms. We were guided to embrace individualism, to develop our own work and practice: the research, the making, and refinement is what I really enjoy,” he notes.
I’d originally asked to have our interview inside Deacon’s London home (somewhat brazen on reflection, I’ll admit – and in my head, it’s the most glorious house I’ve never seen) but he balked at the suggestion.
I’ve instead been invited to his studio – a hidden haven of creativity and, as he promised, it’s a happy trade-off. Relatively modest in size, the east–west-facing space is abundantly stocked with bolts of beautiful fabrics – “my own designs, made in England” – dress patterns, sketches, gowns, books, boxes, and folders with famous clients labelled in Deacon’s distinctive handwriting.
It is glorious, organised chaos. I also note it smells incredible, and spot Byredo candles dotted around. Backed by the intermittent hum of a sewing machine and the satisfying clack of scissors, I’m sitting beside an impeccably dressed Deacon: mature and suitably rebellious.
He’s also wearing a pair of signature Cutler & Gross glasses, which is somehow reassuring (unsurprisingly, he designed a collection with them).

Following a glittering career at Bottega Veneta, Gucci, Ungaro, and his own ready-to-wear label, Deacon is focused on couture and commissioned pieces – dressing some of the most famous faces in the world. And of course, he is also Creative Director of James Purdey & Sons, adding his own mark to the more-than-200-year-old luxury British brand.
Still on guard, Deacon doesn’t want to talk specifics about his current home design – only to confirm that he lives in North London. “Allegedly,” he concedes with sly humour, preferring to reminisce about the previous places he’s lived. “I have a long-standing, deeply personal relationship with this city. I’ve lived East, North… in the City itself – all over.”
Does he have a favourite period of design that influences where he lives? “I don’t. I’ve lived in all kinds of properties: Victorian, Edwardian, Georgian… the Barbican. From a direct architectural perspective, we’re spoiled, aren’t we? There are places I find fascinating though – like the Sir John Soane’s Museum.” Neoclassical spaces appeal, also the Baroque period.
“One of the first venues in London that I ever used for a show back in 2004 was the Royal Hospital in Chelsea… The Army are interesting as they actually really love fashion – the theatricality to it all, livery, structure, fabrics. We had to work around the Chelsea Pensioners and their schedules, as primarily it’s someone’s home.”
It’s fitting that such an iconic institution is the kind of place Deacon would select for this VBD – Very British Designer.

Inspiration comes from many places, visually and also emotionally: “I was always interested in history, the natural world, and a sense of Britishness, I guess. Like Rex Whistler or Vita Sackville-West, Francis Bacon, or the way beautiful things are made – like saddlery, or the qualities of marquetry and silk weaving. The best of the best.”
Britishness as a theme often gets muddled with cultural identity or political statements, but here we’re speaking creatively.
Deacon loves to celebrate pageantry, craftsmanship, and stories of historical characters: “From a personal, creative imagination perspective, when I explore and express Britishness, the common thread throughout is very much about accessible eccentricity. […] It’s not a definition, but one aspect I just adore that’s always shifting and changing.”
Deacon has forged a unique career path. “Within the years of doing this… there was a period of time – particularly in the early 2000s – when if you put your head above the parapet to do something [other than fashion], you were called out.”
No stranger to interior décor and design, in recent years he’s created a range of table linens in collaboration with brand Peter Reed, as well as a collection of sumptuous fabrics and wall coverings with Sanderson. “Such an incredible team to work with – at the top of their game,” he enthuses.
Are we going to see more from him within interior design? “Never say never. I’ve been lucky to work with some wonderful brands.”

How has his own sense of style developed? “As time goes by, I enjoy a sense of formality in dressing. I don’t try to analyse it too much. I enjoy nice things… I love Hermès ties, Jermyn Street for shirts, some Turnbull & Asser, and then some Uniqlo like everybody. It’s a healthy combination. I’m not that fussed about designer clothes for myself – I’m more interested in British craftsmanship.”
Finally, I wonder how he measures success. He explains that he has a guiding principle from his time at college: “Regardless of scale, regardless of visibility of the creative – from something really intimate to something huge like Pippa Middleton’s wedding dress – ultimately if it’s good, it’s good, and if it’s not, it’s not.”
See more of Giles Deacon's work at giles-deacon.com