The Provocateur: After 35 cheeky years in the business, life is still a cabaret for couturier Jean Paul Gaultier

Jean Paul Gaultier isn’t crazy about career retrospectives. “I think they can be like a funeral sometimes,” winces the original bad boy of fashion, who turns 60 next year. We are sitting on the stage of Gaultier’s Rue Saint-Martin headquarters, where his punk-themed Spring 2011 couture collection has just been unveiled. Models strutted down the runway in his sailor-striped organza and leather lace bombers to a voice-over of Catherine Deneuve describing each exquisite outfit, rather than music. Almost everyone—including boy bride Andrej Pejic—was coiffed in some riff on a mohawk, and Gaultier himself came bounding out to take his bow in a spiked wig.

There are much badder boys in fashion these days. But none so well humoured, or so French. Cancan ruffles, berets and Breton stripes have all been treated to Gaultier’s witty twists. He’s the master of mash-ups—whether they’re masculine/feminine, innerwear/outerwear, or a blend of cultural symbols from thousands of miles, or years, apart. In Gaultier’s hands, red, yellow and blue feathers give a jacket parrot wings, corsets become cage dresses, and battery-operated butterflies flutter around the bodice of a gown. He has put men in skirts and bustiers, and riled Christians with Virgin Mary prints and Sacred Heart embroidery. After presenting a 1993 collection inspired by Orthodox Jewish costume, a jaunty Gaultier was interviewed wearing a sailor-striped skullcap. That didn’t go down well with the Jewish community.

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