Cover Karl Lagerfeld (Photo: Vittorio Zunino Celotto)

This year’s Met Gala theme, ‘Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty’, spotlights an industry vanguard with a questionable legacy

He was a prescient augur of the times with the exceptional ability to read the cultural zeitgeist. He revived Chanel from the dead with show-stopping haute couture presentations, including an airport, a giant Chanel teddy bear, and a rocket that took off at the Palais Royale in Paris. He also upheld the size exclusivity of the fashion industry, denigrated the #MeToo movement, and defended stylists accused of sexual assault. 

This is the complicated legacy of Karl Lagerfeld that many will have on their minds on Monday as celebrities grace the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the Met Gala, dressed “in honour of Karl”. This year’s theme for the Met’s Costume Institute fundraising event, Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty, is dreamt up by curator Andrew Bolton, accompanied by an exhibition featuring the relationship between Lagerfeld’s sketches and his revolutionary work. With the Met Gala being fashion’s biggest night out, there’s no exaggerating the platform that the late designer is given.

Karl Lagerfeld was, and still remains, a figure of mystery. He always claimed he was born in 1938 in Hamburg, even when birth records point to 1933. Before his death in 2019, he had a 65-year long career working with industry titans like Yves Saint Laurent and Jean Patou before taking the helm at Chloé and Fendi. He is remembered most by his work at Chanel, which he revitalised to unprecedented popularity in 1983 with postmodern designs for the modern woman. Beyond that, Lagerfeld remained inscrutable behind those oversized sunglasses, fingerless gloves, and detachable starched collar, his character revealed only in glimpses—shared by close associates like Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour—and his controversial comments.

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Tatler Asia
Above Karl Lagerfeld self-portrait (Photo: Karl Lagerfeld)

He was a ruthless critic of women’s bodies. “No one wants to see curvy women,” he told Focus magazine in 2009, and went on to say, “You’ve got fat mothers with their bags of chips sitting in front of the television and saying that thin models are ugly. The world of beautiful clothing is about ‘dreams and illusions.’” 

When stylist Karl Templer was accused of sexual assault, he told Numéro magazine, “If you don’t want your pants pulled about, don’t become a model! Join a nunnery; there’ll always be a place for you in the convent. They’re recruiting even!” He rubbed even more salt on the wound by casting doubt on the sincerity of the #MeToo movement. “What shocks me most in all of this are the starlets who have taken 20 years to remember what happened,” he said. “I read somewhere that now you must ask a model if she is comfortable with posing. It’s simply too much, from now on, as a designer, you can't do anything.”

Elsewhere, he criticised then-German Chancellor Angela Merkel’s decision to open borders to refugees from Muslim-majority countries. “One cannot—even if there are decades between them—kill millions of Jews so you can bring millions of their worst enemies in their place,” he told French TV show Salut Les Terriens, evoking the Holocaust and egregiously painting these refugees as antisemitic. Despite being gay himself, he spoke against gay marriage and parenting in France by saying, “For me it’s difficult to imagine—one of the papas at work and the other at home with the baby. How would that be for the baby?”

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Above Karl Lagerfeld photographed in 7L Bookshop for 'Le journal du dimanche' (Photo: Eric Dessons)

But are these comments, egregious as they may be, just part of the Karl Lagerfeld myth? He called himself a “caricature” in an interview with the Observer, likening it to a “mask” that he wears “all year long”. His most ardent supporters acknowledge these stains on his reputation, but call on you to look past it and instead celebrate his achievements. In a way, they are right—Lagerfeld was an intensely talented designer with a golden touch wherever he worked. His work at Chanel inspired a whole host of legacy houses scouting young designers to bring their brands to the new age—see Tom Ford for Gucci, Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton, or Alexander McQueen for Givenchy. His landmark collaboration with fast fashion brand H&M flew off the racks and influenced a previously unfounded and highly popular convergence of high and low. 

How do you cancel genius? How can you ignore the contributions of a person who left behind an industry made in his image? Can you separate the artist from the art? It’s a loaded question that has a lot to do with our perception of morality, personal and global politics, cancel culture (a buzzword that has been oversaturated to the point of meaninglessness) and the search for purity where there is none. 

The idea of ‘separation’ is perhaps a crude one, suggesting a binary of whole-hearted acceptance of art—vile as the artist’s politics or behaviour may be—or a complete deplatforming of the work and its creator. We are quick to find out that binaries are rarely helpful, and neither are spectrums. We are becoming more acquainted with the fact that things in life are more multifaceted than we think, which is why the concept of intersectionality, of identifying how issues cross multiple identity markers such as gender, race, class and sexuality, has become a staple in today’s cultural climate. And as actress Jameela Jamil has put it, Lagerfeld gatekept who graces the venerated halls of fashion with his “hateful”, “public disdain for marginalised people”. 

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Above Karl Lagerfeld in 1987 (Photo: Facebook / Kark Lagerfeld)

There’s more space for contradictions to coexist than people think. Is it true that Lagerfeld was a truly talented designer with the rare ability to turn abstract sketches on paper to show-stopping creations? Yes. Did his off-hand comments harken back to the “golden” days of fashion, where he held (and continued to hold) supreme power over models, designers, editors, and journalists? Also yes. Did they celebrate a time when the face of fashion was thin, rich and usually white, who were nevertheless subject to the whims of institutionalised misogyny and abuse of power in the industry, fabulously out of step with the priorities of diversity and inclusion today? One hundred percent. When one allows space for seemingly disparate elements to coalesce, a more complex picture of a man emerges—one that still remains beyond the purview of mainstream understanding.

We will never know the difference between Lagerfeld, the flammable designer in the very public eye who stunned with his brilliant dresses and nonchalant comments, and Karl, the private figure who was said to be extremely generous, affable, and kind. We will never know if his demeanour was truly a façade or if his comments were Freudian slips. They all nonetheless converge to form a complicated legacy defined by beauty and flecked by the unsavoury. Karl Lagerfeld was, and is, never one thing or another. He resisted pigeonholes and was not easily labelled. He was both an arbiter of originality and a champion of the old guard, for better or for worse. And if you find yourself wandering through his creations at the Met, it's important to keep those conversations going on at the same time, even as you marvel at his creations. 

One of the aphorisms so closely associated with Lagerfeld goes, “embrace the present and innovate the future”. Innovate the future, yes—but look closely at the old world he represented too, and look forward to a future where the promise of fashion is no longer reserved for a select echelon, where the safety of models is paramount, and where power is, dare I say it, democratised. There is a way to celebrate the roads he paved in fashion and to acknowledge the horrible things he said about other people, and it would be reductive to mention only one or the other. The question is now, what do we keep?

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Ethan Kan
Dining writer, Tatler Singapore
Tatler Asia

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Ethan is a dining writer with Tatler Singapore. Trained in literary arts and filmmaking, their work has previously been published in Esquire Singapore, Men's Folio, and with the Asian Film Archive and the Singapore International and Film Festival, across a wide range of interests from gastronomy to fashion and arts criticism. 

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Ethan writes about exciting news in the F&B industry, specialising in fine dining, exclusive spirits launches, and new restaurants. They are always looking for riveting voices to bring something fresh to an already-dynamic industry.

Follow them on Instagram at @faustiangourmand.