Born: Fraserburgh, Scotland, 1943
Died: London, England, 1988
The creator of some of the century’s most mind-blowing dresses, Bill Gibb’s celtic sensibility, love of craftsmanship and extraordinary colour sense made him a star in the truest sense of the word. ‘It would be hard to imagine anyone less pompous than Bill Gibb,’ said Vogue in 1977 on the eve of his ten-year retrospective at the Albert Hall in London. ‘He wears a broad smile, a long floppy scarf and strange knit bobble hat. Who else would have laughed when Elizabeth Taylor wore one of his dresses back to front on television?’
Son of a New Pisligo farmer, Gibb switched from farming to fashion with the greatest of ease. He studied at the Royal College of Art in London in 1966, but left to do his own thing after just a year. Gibb then joined the shop Baccarat as a freelance designer, later working in collaboration with knitwear designer, Kaffe Fassett. A typical Bill Gibb creation had a simple shape and fantastical surface – a gorgeous entity which employed his team of knitters, weavers, embroiderers and printers. At the height of his career, Gibb’s clients included Eartha Kitt, Tina Chow, Twiggy and the Empress of Iran. ‘Everywhere I move I take four things with me,’ he said, ‘two chemist chests, a 1930s’ porcelain head, and my collection of bees.’ Bill Gibb, sensitive, original and self-effacing, was most suited to a period which appreciated craft and worshipped surface texture. His dresses – perfect expressions of hippiedom – were sadly out of sync with the late 1970s, while his talent was probably best summed up by Beatrix Miller, former editor of British Vogue, who commented in his obituary in 1988. ‘Perhaps he never found his métier, and it is cruel that fashion decreed he never would. Theatre, ballet, opera might have given him the scope he needed.’
