As promised in this week’s gargantuan Best of the Bay issue, here’s a longer Q&A with Santino Rice, who will be at the Castro Theatre this Friday. Illustrations to come tomorrow!
GUARDIAN: You once judged the Miss Universe pageant. What was that like?
SANTINO RICE: Parts of the experience – being that close to the stage, to the beautiful women and the gowns – were great. As a young boy I watched pageants, but I’m far from obsessed with them. I came in trying to be objective and pick the woman that evening that really exemplified beauty and personified what Miss Universe should be. But the year that I judged it, it seemed like more of the judges on the panel were voting for a country, not a woman. It was as if people were cheering for a soccer team. Miss Puerto Rico won, and I really felt like Miss Japan should have won.
G: Didn’t Miss Japan just win this year? You were ahead of the curve.
SR: The Miss Japan from the year before was amazingly beautiful.
Judging competitions based on beauty is basically comparing apples to orange to bananas. When you judge on a panel, you start to think about how other people’s votes blend with yours. I’m over that – I’d rather be the arbiter of taste and say, “This is right, this is wrong,” and call it out.
G: On Project Runway you were definitely the first person to call the judges out. In the first season, there wasn’t much of that going on – everyone was largely obedient.
SR: I have just as much experience as any of the judges. Sometimes they would tell me something and I’d think “No” because I thought it was a reflection of their frigid conservatism.
Had I been on a different season of the show, maybe there might have been a different dynamic. But other than Andre, there really wasn’t anyone to talk to on camera. I thought I’d meet more people that I’d stay in touch with than I did from that season. Amongst my season, I’d be the one least likely to show up for the reunion.
However, I’ve met some incredible people from the overall show, from the first and third seasons. Austin Scarlet is really original, and I also keep in touch with Milan [Breton]. I knew Jeffrey [Sebelia]’s work before the show, and we’ve become better friends now that we’ve been through the same experience.
G: It’s interesting, because just like Miss Universe picking Japan the year after you were a judge, Project Runway picked Jeffrey the following season, someone who has major similarities [LA-based, more street or experimental, a rough background] with you within the context of that show.
SR: I think Jeffrey had a beautiful collection – the most forward-thinking collection of that season. But I also think they didn’t want to hear (about not choosing me) anymore. On a daily basis they’re reminded of me on the street; someone yells to them how wrong it was that I didn’t win [laughs].
My season was the season they decided not to pick the voice of fashion, but to pick something else and see how it worked out for them.
G: Do you think the judges are regional in their thinking? They definitely have a New York-centric viewpoint.
SR: In America, New York City is still the fashion capitol — even though I live in Los Angeles and love it, the production value of fashion here isn’t the same. I’ll give them that.
But I felt like Heidi [Klum] and Michael [Kors] and Nina [Garcia] were a three-headed monster. They had the same point of view. If you’re going to be judged by a panel of experienced professionals, you’d hope that at least one person would be the voice of an avant-garde direction in fashion rather than just favoring staple pieces. Give me something subversive and imaginative.
G: Visibility and the way queers get caught up in that idea can be boring and kind of a blind alley. But your season was as good as queer visibility has gotten on TV, because it had people who were creative and eccentric in a real way.
Having watched the episode before the finale that gives back-story, I wanted to ask you some biographical questions. What drew you to LA from Missouri?
SR: When I was a senior in high school, I’d won a competition to come to Los Angeles through an organization — a kind of marketing club where I’d won first place on a state level. This is kind of a boring story [laughs]. I’d already planned to go to Parsons [School of Design] in New York, but towards the final quarter of high school I took the trip to Los Angeles. It was the first time I’d ever been to California.
The day after I arrived for this huge convention, the riots started. It was destructive in a lot of ways, and wasn’t right on a lot of levels, but at a certain point, people snap. I thought, “Wow, the energy here is so progressive.” Everything clicked and I realized Los Angeles figured in so many things that I’d loved, from old Hollywood films to gangster rap, from Adrian’s films and MGM to Ice-T and Ice Cube and NWA. The palm trees and Venice Beach appealed to me when I was young and I still love them today. I also love going to New York now; every time I go I can treat it like a vacation.
G: You mentioned Adrian earlier; when you were younger did you have an eye for what costume designers in Hollywood such as Adrian and Edith Head and Givenchy were doing?
SR: Edith Head did so many movies that it’s outrageous, and the more I learn about her, the more I learn that she didn’t do as much of the actual work [laughs] as I’d thought. Adrian was someone who I always was amazed by. In a way, that kind of led to one of my first jobs in Los Angeles. Through the school I was attending, I took part in a summer mentorship program with Tony Duquette, who worked with Adrian. They were best friends and worked together on a lot of Vincente Minnelli movies.
G: Is there a particular Minnelli or Adrian movie that you like the most in terms of costumes?
SR: Kismet was a big film for me.
Also, the film that’s going to be screening at the first night of the festival, The Women, is an incredible showcase of fashion.
G: Jungle red!
SR: I’ve heard they were hoping to remake it, and I can’t imagine who they would pick to illustrate that fashion life today. It’s so believable in the original. It would have to be in Paris at House of Dior.
G: I love how a fashion show is the centerpiece of the film.
SR: And it’s in color.
Along with the fashion magazines I looked at and the dolls I played with as a kid, movies were a huge influence on me. Everything from the past was done with a little more care and sensitivity, and I appreciate that.
G: One example of that extra attention and care would be Jacques Demy and his approach to color in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg.
SR: Definitely, and I was in love with Catherine Deneuve. In her heyday, she’s the most beautiful woman ever. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is really unconventional as a musical. I also love [Demy’s] Donkey Skin.
G: I like the way the look of the film catches that weird transition between European fashion in the ‘60s and the more naturalized, earth tones of the early ‘70s. I’ve seen a picture of you where you have an elaborate pelt on, and Deneuve spends a good portion of that film wearing the donkey skin.
You’re also a fan of Rita Hayworth in Gilda.
SR: She’s so amazingly sexy. The undergarments she wore and the overall silhouettes she created add to the sexual tension between her and Glenn Ford in that movie. I don’t know if she was pregnant during the filming, or if she’d just had a baby, but she looks fantastic.
G: Pink Narcissus is a different kind of favorite film of yours. The fashion in that is pretty flimsy, but very inventive.
SR: Totally. The whole aesthetic is great – it’s colorful, it’s erotic, it has surreal visuals. The way it treats the subject matter of a male prostitute conjures up a lot of feelings – it’s uncomfortable. When I saw it for the first time I was really blown away; it kind if reminded me of some Fassbinder films in the way that he [Fassbinder] can linger on certain details a little too long for comfort.
A movie like that, even though it’s not overtly about fashion, I could easily design a collection around, because of its approach to visuals and color and mood.
The most recent film that’s given me that sort of overwhelmed feeling is [Alejandro Jodorowsky’s] The Holy Mountain.
I’d seen a bootleg version of it a long time ago, but it’s great that it’s been re-released.
G: I know that Watership Down is one of your favorite movies.
SR: I was completely scared to death the first time I saw that movie.
G: The ‘70s gave us some really traumatic animation for children – The Secret of NIMH and that movie.
SR: Children’s movies have lost that edge, but video games and other things today are so violent.
I’m really close to my friend Tony [Ward]’s kids. I showed them Watership Down and they never want to see it again. If I’m over, I’ll say, “Hey, do you want to see this?” and they yell, “No!” That scene where the rabbits are fighting still has an impact.
G: You’re a fan of Sacha Baron-Cohen, and he’s definitely someone who doesn’t give a damn when he’s in the public eye. When Borat came out did you feel validated that America embraced it?
SR: I love his sense of humor, his comedy. Before Borat I tried to get my hands on whatever he did. I remember when he broke into America’s consciousness with that Madonna video. I do appreciate that he could give a fuck what people think. He’s laughing at everybody at the same time that they’re laughing at that character he’s created. He catches everyone off-guard.
G: Would you say you’re more excited or inspired by things from the past, or do you also find inspiration in things happening right now?
SR: There’s a lot from the past that gets reinterpreted in fashion today; we’re going through a vintage wave. To an extent there’s a bit of that in my work in construction technique. I think clothes from the past look better than a lot of contemporary clothes because they have a better foundation; there’s more infrastructure in the clothes. That’s what I take from vintage clothes.
I guess I see more contemporary things from music than from fashion or film. Everyone went to Dreamgirls, but I wasn’t in love with that movie.
G: You love Mahogany, so you know what could have been done.
SR: Dreamgirls gets a free pass – I don’t understand it. Some of the visuals and certain costumes are amazing, but towards the end it loses focus. The part where Beyonce is Diana Ross in the ‘70s could have been so much more fabulous.
Hedwig and the Angry Inch is one contemporary film I loved. John Cameron Mitchell can do no wrong in my eyes. Shortbus created a mood and brought me back to that feeling of seeing something fresh and modern.
G: I want to ask a little about your friendship with Tony Ward. Do you discuss ideas with him? He’s has a varied public or cult personality, so I figure he has a lot of facets. Most people know of him through Madonna or Bruce LaBruce, but he’s studied with Tony Kaye and Marlon Brando –
SR: I could speak about Tony for several chapters. We definitely have reciprocal communication, whether we’re talking about everyday matters or art and fashion. We met in odd circumstances.
G: Did you meet on a flight?
SR: We met at an airport. We were flying back to Los Angeles, and the engine on the right side of the plane exploded. We had to emergency land and had a long layover, and during that time we just talked about everything.
A week after we got back to LA he called and asked me if I’d want to create some pieces for his first fashion editorial, which was based on A Clockwork Orange. I made all these leather codpieces for people, and other accessories. From that point on we hung out more often. He’s an accomplished model and photographer and he’s worked with so many different people – there are a lot of aspects of him that people don’t know about or understand.
Because he’s been this sort of visual stimulation for so many people, this gay icon, people don’t see past that; they don’t see that he creates his own art, and is an ultimate model in many ways because he brings so much to the table. A lot of fashion designers cite him as a muse – John Galliano is a huge fan and supporter of Tony.
He’s a great guy and he’s a loyal friend.
G: The circumstance in which you met is the type that can forge a bond.
SR: I remember having this Italian Vogue in my lap when [the engine gave out] and I really thought the plane was going to crash. People were praying in the aisles. Everyone took a big breath of air and sucked all the oxygen out of the plane. I just flipped through the magazine and tried to focus on something beautiful.
I’m told that if that happens with the engine on the left side, the plane will crash. We had only been in the air for ten minutes, so luckily we could land return to the airport.
G: There are some documentaries about fashion, such as Wim Wenders’ movie about Yohji Yamamoto and the recent pair of movies about Yves Saint-Laurent. Do you have an interest in watching a designer’s practice through those type of movies?
SR: Yes — I love Notebooks on Cities and Clothes; even though our aesthetics are different, I think Yohji Yamamoto’s a genius and he’s one of my favorite fashion designers.
I do love fashion in terms of fabric on a body and creating shape and line through constructing garments, but I’m in love with the process, the creative process of anything. Before I knew I wanted to be a fashion designer, I knew I wanted to create things. The process of coming up with an idea, putting it to paper, acquiring the materials, and then constructing a finished product is what I’m in love with as a designer. That’s what consumes me and makes me happy. Watching Yohji, or Yves, or Isaac Mizrahi (in Unzipped) is great in that way. Though I can’t say as much for the movie Seamless, another Douglas Keeve movie that just came out.
I’ll watch any documentary or watch or read any biography – I love A&E biographies and have a whole case of videocassettes about everyone from Liberace to King Tut. I like how-to books. My everyday life and the way it plays out life is all the fictional stimulation I need.
The idea of documenting people living their lives is one of the reasons why I even participated in Project Runway. I did think it would be a risk in terms of how it was edited. I’m a vain person and I know I can take a good picture or a horrible picture, and knew that I might have to see a bad moving picture. But I put all of that out of my mind.
G: Was it strange to see how people reacted once the show began to air? It was like a juggernaut.
SR: Completely. Right off the bat when the show started airing the media made me the focus. It turned out for the best. Even not winning the show was a blessing in a sense.
The money would have been great. As much as my life has changed – and it’s been almost two years – I wouldn’t turn down 100,000 dollars. But then I consider all the strings that were attached.
I’ll never take for granted what that show did for me. I get messages from people in the Netherlands. I recently went to Malaysia and Singapore and Thailand, and Project Runway is huge over there. I couldn’t believe it – tons of people turned up for me to sign autographs and pose for pictures.
If I think about it too hard it’s stressful, but the viewer of the show is not necessarily my customer base. I’d be happy just dressing 60 women rather than the whole world. From the show, I have a lot of freedom in my life and can choose what I want to devote my time too. I have leverage that, unfortunately, a lot of talented people, whether they’re authors or artists, don’t have. I’m able to say no to things.
For a while [before the show] I thought, “God, is this my plight — that I’ll always be the guy who is shortchanged?” Especially in fashion, people want you to work with them for free; they say, “Oh, this will be great exposure for you.” Now, I don’t need any more exposure [laughs].
A lot of my professional career in the fashion industry has been a win-lose situation with me being on the losing end, whether with employers or when I was doing things freelance. I’ve been able to break through salary caps and the anonymity I’d had since I was 17 to design for other people and do my best work.
G: What kind of people do you like to design for, and what are you interested in look-wise right now?
SR: I’m still creating garments with a lot of the same ideas I’ve had for a while, tweaking them and evolving them. It depends on the client I’m working for – everything is made to measure and one of a kind and usually involves several fittings. I want to create something that is aesthetically beautiful but also works for the body type of the person. I’ve been doing a lot more work with non-celebrities due to the fact that I think a lot of celebrities get clothes for free and don’t have the time for fittings.
G: I wish there were more stars taking an active role in terms of the way they think about fashion.
SR: I wish there were, too.
G: A lot of the great movie stars, such as the main actresses in The Women, those women knew how to give face, they had a big opinion about and hand in what they were going to wear onscreen. These days I think there a still a few actresses who think “I envision my character dressing this way,” but most don’t – they just work with what the costume designer provides.
SR: Back in the day, too, Joan Crawford wore a lot of Adrian. She knew her body and knew what she wanted to look like. There was so much more loyalty from someone like her towards the creative people who were shaping her image. A lot of actresses and actors have completely lost that. I don’t think someone has style if they have a stylist who shops for them and they wear everything that’s available in the marketplace. That’s why everyone has sort of the same style today. They’ll show up in Prada at one event and Gucci at another, but no one’s cultivating a look.
But it’s also due to the fact that everyone is an independent agent of sorts today, instead of under contract to the studio system. There are a few people who carry on that tradition; I think Chloe Sevigny has great personal style.
G: I have one last question: What are you wearing?
SR: Oh no! I have on a pair of shoes I got in Singapore that are Hiromu Takahara. They look like Converse but they fit like a cowboy boot – they zip up on the side. I’m wearing black Diesel jeans, skinny jeans, and just a t-shirt. And of course a hat – a black Bardolino hat.