Shape Shifters
Vanguart CEO Axel Leuenberger on how he hopes his watches will define a new era
WORDS: JOHN THATCHER
If you’re going to launch an independent brand into a sector as competitive as high watchmaking, a market that’s dominated by heritage names and luxury conglomerates, you’re best to make not a ripple but a splash. Something like setting the price of your debut model at CHF320,000 (roughly $400,000).
That’s exactly what Vanguart did, raising more than a few eyebrows which lowered once the timepiece in question, the 43mm wide, 15mm thick Black Hole Tourbillon, was closely inspected and deemed to be as technically innovative as it is visually striking.
A deeper dive into the company would reveal that this was no great surprise. CEO Axel Leuenberger and CTO Jérémy Freléchox both worked at APRP under the guidance of the ‘watchmaker’s watchmaker’, Giulio Papi, the renowned Swiss-Italian known for his exceptional contributions to high-end horology, where they created highly complicated movements for
the likes of Audemars Piguet, Richard Mille and Chanel. Leuenberger was a mechanical designer in the Research and Development department, assisting Papi. Freléchox held the position of Head of Movement Creation Projects.
“Giulio Papi taught us the importance of designing mechanisms with both beauty and functionality in mind –considering machinability, decoration, and durability. His ability to simplify while maximising performance and user experience left a lasting impact. That mindset is now core to how we design at Vanguart,” says Leuenberger, speaking to us ahead of Vanguart’s return to Dubai Watch Week this month.
Alongside Leuenberger and Freléchox are creative director Thierry Fisher and chairman Mehmet Korutürk, the foursome launching Vanguart in 2017. Did they spot a gap in the market? “Vanguart began as a shared dream among founders who worked together on various projects and felt a deep creative alignment. Rather
Opening pages, from left to right: Orb; Axel Leuenberger
This page: Black Hole Tourbillon
Opposite page: Orb
‘ Giulio Papi taught us the importance of designing mechanisms with both beauty and functionality in mind’
than spotting a market gap, we were driven by a strong urge to express an uncharted vision in watchmaking –one that couldn’t be realised in our previous roles. It started as a dream and grew into a project fuelled by mutual passion and complementary expertise.”
The project has been further fuelled by the positive reaction to the two models Vanguart has issued.
The aforementioned Black Hole Tourbillon, which debuted in 2021, features the made-in-house calibre T-170, comprised of 750 components, along with a central, levitating flying tourbillon and the time creatively displayed on three separate rings. It’s offered in titanium, rose and white gold, each limited to eight pieces. Then came 2024’s Vanguart Orb, which introduced an entirely new handfinished flying tourbillon movement that allows the wearer to alternate between automatic and manual modes.
“For Black Hole, we adapted power management systems normally found in chiming watches and applied them to create a digital-like display –almost like an automaton,” outlines Leuenberger. “For Orb, the inspiration came from symmetrical architecture and the optical illusion created by the orbital mass and the opposing diamond.
It gives the sensation of the diamond floating upward, like a balloon, merging mechanics with visual poetry.”
Each offered its own creative challenges. “With Black Hole, the challenge was making an extremely complex mechanism function reliably. For Orb, it was about maintaining symmetry and integrating more traditional watchmaking codes – like central hands – while preserving our identity. The design became more approachable yet stayed true to our DNA.
“At first, our complex architecture combined with a minimalist dial wasn’t fully understood. There’s natural scepticism toward new brands, especially given past failures in the market. But over time – especially after Orb – the response from collectors has been phenomenal. It even helped cast new light on the Black Hole, which people then revisited with greater appreciation.
“While watchmaking was our core skill, building a brand and finding the right partners was a new and sometimes tough journey. But the emotional reward – seeing people’s eyes light up when they discover our creations – has been incredible.”
Collectors were certainly dazzled when Vanguart debuted at 2023’s
Dubai Watch Week, Leuenberger describing their “extraordinary” response as a “game-changer” and the moment Vanguart “really appeared on the global map.” This year they’ll return to showcase new variations of the Black Hole.
The limited production of Vanguart’s current collection isn’t by design. “We don’t intentionally limit production, but due to the high level of hand-finishing and the talent required, our capacity is naturally limited. We aim to grow, but quality remains our top priority.” And perhaps, like Giulio Papi, they may well offer movement creation services for others in the future. “Designed by us but tailored to the DNA of the commissioning brand,” states Leuenberger.
“In 10 years, we hope Vanguart will be known as a thoughtful and creative voice in independent watchmaking – respected for our unique approach to design and mechanics. Our aim is to continue developing meaningful relationships with collectors, growing at a pace that allows us to maintain the level of craftsmanship we care so deeply about.
“Ultimately, we want each piece we create to carry a strong identity and connect emotionally with those who wear it, and to shape the universe and new era we are striving to define.”
It’s a bold vision, but Vanguart’s first two watches suggest it will be realised.
Since bursting onto the scene as Cinderalla, Lily James has studiously – and successfully –avoided being typecast. Now she’s looking for something to trigger her into the next decade of her career
WORDS: GUY KELLY
Well, I say to Lily James, how about a man holding a fish in his profile photo, would that put you off? “A… fish?” she replies, perplexed. “A fish?” It is a damp Monday evening in September, and we’re hiding from the rain in a musty pub in north London, just around the corner from the home James has recently finished doing up.
The agenda for tonight’s meeting is necessarily dominated by a discussion on the state of modern romance. We have now reached “the ick”, that term – coined on the 2000s legal romcom Ally McBeal – describing the sudden, often inexplicable pang of light revulsion that snuffs out any and all desire in a potential dalliance. Especially on dating apps. The fish thing, for some reason oddly prevalent on Tinder, Hinge and the like, is a classic turn-off for some. Other notable icks include seeing a man order soup of the day; or watching him take that silly little turn around a shoe shop to try out a new pair for size; or hearing him say, “What’s the damage?” when the bill arrives in a restaurant.
At this last one, James convulses into a full-body, full-soul cringe, momentarily shrivelling between some cushions. “Yeah, that’s not great, is it… And being dismissive and rude to waiters, that’s an ick, that’s just unacceptable.”
Sun-kissed and replenished after a
‘ I’m not sure I’ve ever met an actor that’s entirely comfortable with fame ’
holiday in Italy, James is excellent pub company: a good laugh, unhurried and, as far as I can tell, only dimly aware of the furtive glances coming her way. A colleague told me I was insane to take someone as glamorous and refined as James to an “old man boozer”. It turns out she was here last week, looking for a last-orders drink with a mate.
This evening’s regulars were briefly silenced when she walked in, wearing a leather jacket, baggy striped shirt, wide-legged jeans and fearsome black boots. The few children in the place, meanwhile, attempted to place her.
James, now 36, recently went brunette again. She has acted with hair closer to her natural colour plenty of times before, notably in Baby Driver, The Dig and Darkest Hour, but for some reason it always reduces the attention she receives out and about.
When she’s blonde, I suppose, people might see Lady Rose MacClare from Downton Abbey, or the young Donna from Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, or perhaps a likeness to Pamela Anderson, thanks to her Golden Globe and Emmy-nominated turn as the Baywatch pin-up in Pam & Tommy
But if young children or parents see her, she’s just Cinderella.
“I was blonde for ages until I did this,” she says, grabbing a fistful of hair and chucking it upwards, “I was getting recognised for Cinderella a lot. I thought, ‘Yes! I still look young!’… It’s often by the mums. The kids are just confused. They don’t understand how I could possibly be her.”
But back to those icks. James isn’t entirely sold on the concept. “We can’t be so judgmental, can we? You’ve got to get to know people, because we have so many guards we put up, and ways we behave that aren’t our true selves. So you’ve got to move past icks, I think.”
A pause, then a smile and backtrack. “Having said that… it’s game over when there’s an ick, isn’t it? It now makes me think [about] what my icks are, what people might find ‘icky’ about me. But everything is just a projection of ourselves, isn’t it? So you should really see that ick and look inward. Why are you getting that ick, you know?”
This is not a coaching session –in either direction. I am married and James is, well, she’s… What is she? She’s shaking her head, that’s what. “I would never divulge that information.” She is the kind of famous woman who cannot be in the same postcode as an even vaguely
handsome bloke without the tabloids declaring they’re a couple.
If you believe some reports, she has been single for ages; if you believe others, she’s somehow had about 280 boyfriends since her five-year relationship with Matt Smith ended in 2019; for all we know, it may be that she’s back with Queens of the Stone Age bassist Michael Shuman, her on/off boyfriend since 2021.
Whatever the truth is, James is unlikely to need the help of apps, but she has become at least a tourist in the modern dating landscape thanks to her recent role in Swiped, in which she plays Whitney Wolfe Herd, the woman who co-founded the dating app Tinder, launched Bumble, and sued the former for discrimination and sexual harassment, ultimately settling in 2014 after signing a non-disclosure agreement (NDA).
Wolfe Herd’s journey from upstart marketeer to changing how the world dates is a fascinating one, and a story she has told on a countless podcasts and corporate advice lectures – as anyone might, if they became, at 31, the world’s youngest self-made female billionaire. But the NDA stands, gagging her from talking about her treatment. The writers and director of Swiped knew this, so made a decision not to approach her at all, instead relying on publicly available information and artistic licence.
James is in just about every frame of the film, and is as impressive portraying the scrappy, broke, 24-year-old Wolfe Herd as she is as the varnished “girl boss” chief executive she evolves into. What separates Swiped from previous male-led biopics – especially The Social Network and Steve Jobs, both of which were directed by men – is that the toxic ‘bro’ culture taken with a shrug in those films is finally seen through a female lens (literally, in that it is directed by and largely produced by women, including James) and called out.
“I remember thinking, ‘Oh, it’s a founder story…’, but then it really struck me that a lot of the female founder stories end up being that they were con artists. Or else there’s the male stories we all know. So I thought it was really epic to tell this story of a woman who had not one but two rocket
‘ You organically shift as you get older so you can take your hands off the reins a bit and wait for things to just happen ’
ships she was a part of,” James says. “Dating apps have revolutionised how we meet people, whether you like them or not. They are part of the fabric of how we date now, and they were kids who started them.”
James is in favour of dating apps –“I think people are craving intimacy, connection, love, and if dating apps can facilitate that in a safe way, well, great…” – and fascinated by a recent interview Wolfe Herd gave in which she discussed how AI will soon be matchmaking for us all. I’ve read that James herself has never been on one, though.
Can that be true? “Yeah, it’s true. But I mean, I’ve been on a lot of my friends’ dating apps in preparation for Whitney…” So not even Raya, the exclusive, members-only one that’s full of celebrities and influencers?
“I have never been on Raya. I couldn’t. No way… Because I’m an actor, for me so much of my life can become public, so I would rather keep as much privacy as I can. But I can see how positive dating apps can be in opening up the dating.
I tell her about a friend who was recently granted access to Raya. Literally the first profile she was offered was that of a household name James once worked with. At this she snortlaughs. I suppose the very fact we’re talking about it is proof of why she’s not on there… “One-hundred per cent. There are so many actors on Raya.”
I wonder, then, if she were to think about her exes – would she have swiped right on any of them, based on three photos and a chat-up line? Again, a laugh, but then some time to consider this. “Um, I don’t know. Unlikely… No, I’m kidding, I would have, I’m sure. I don’t know.” Would she completely rule out joining? “Well, you never know, maybe I don’t need a dating app?”
Wolfe Herd became a quasi role model for James, who has started to make tentative forays into producing, including setting up her own company, Parodos Productions, with her friend Gala Gordon. “I felt a synergy between playing this formidable entrepreneur and trying to step into those shoes myself, taking agency in creating a company,” says James.
She had taken a producer’s credit once before, on Emily Mortimer’s BBC adaptation of The Pursuit of Love, in which she also played Linda Radlett, and worked closely with the writers and producers on Pam & Tommy. “So it’s something I’m figuring out, but I needed something to trigger me into the next decade of my career and something to excite me. And this is maybe it.”
That added responsibility made James all the more eager to have Swiped be more than a bland hagiography, and instead have the film say something about workplace culture. “So many issues in it are relevant,” James says. “It’s a film about tech, but it’s a much more universal story than that, looking at gender dynamics in a workplace. Needing women to be in leadership positions to affect real change – that’s all industries. And looking at how women can be silenced, not just through NDAs being weaponised against them, but your ideas not being heard, or not getting credit for your contributions… It all just feels so potent for discussion.”
It’s especially comparable to the film industry, which has harboured toxic and credit-thieving men for longer than Silicon Valley has even existed.
“Yeah, and it’s interesting because this story was all pre-MeToo,” James says.
“Whether we feel enough change has happened or taken place [since then] is still open for debate, there’s still so much work to do, but I wanted to explore how important it is for women to be heard.”
It strikes me that James is better placed than many to comment on the clean-up post-MeToo, given that she has worked with nightmare dinnerparty guests that included Harvey Weinstein (War & Peace) and Noel Clarke (Fast Girls). Politely but firmly, she ushers us away from this ground. “I
Opposite page: still from Downton Abbey (2012-15)
understand why you’re asking, because there’s a kind of relevance in terms of what the Swiped is exploring, but I don’t want to get weighed down in other people’s negativity,” she says.
I first interviewed James almost a decade ago. At the time, post- Cinderella but pre-Mamma Mia!, she was in her mid-20s and still figuring out what kind of actor she wanted to be. A certain skittishness, palpable then, is now entirely absent. In those days, in fact, she probably would have bumbled through half-answers to the awkward questions she now gracefully thwacks into the ether without hesitation.
Having been mildly pigeonholed as the smitten ingénue, she was, James said at the time, done with period dramas, and done with falling in love on screen. The latter has definitely held, she says today. Her last half-dozen roles, including wrestling drama The Iron Claw and a forthcoming remake of the Sylvester Stallone mountaineering thriller Cliffhanger, are hardly romantic. And she did manage to change out of corsets and into contemporary clothes. “But I love a corset again now, just in general,” she says with a shrug. “I definitely shifted the period stuff. But it’s funny, when you’re really young, you’re always thinking, ‘How can I reinvent myself? How can I change?’ But you organically shift as you get older, so you can take your hands off the reins a bit and just wait for things to just happen.”
Being some kind of performer was never in doubt. Growing up in Surrey, the young James would make home videos, and then force her parents and two brothers to watch.
There was, she says, a gene. Her grandmother, Helen Horton, was an actor who spent some of the 1980s being chased around on The Benny Hill Show, and provided the voice of Mother, the ship’s computer, in Ridley Scott’s Alien
Her American-born father, James Thomson, was variously a musician, poet, actor and writer, and “just the most creative soul and being, such a big kid, always doing stupid voices, hardly ever speaking in his own accent.” He died of cancer in 2008; Lily went on to take his first name as her professional surname.
‘ I’ve never been a great manifester because I can lean a bit more towards pessimism ’
Inspired by a copy of St Trinian’s lent to her by her mother, Ninette, James “begged, begged, begged” her parents to send her to boarding school, so ended up at Tring Park School for the Performing Arts in Hertfordshire. Guildhall followed, and then, with barely a year or two to find her feet in the industry, Lord Fellowes of West Stafford threw open the doors of Downton Abbey.
The final film came out in September.
“Downton was such a special time in my life, it felt like a huge opportunity for me. On my first day, everyone on the cast and crew hid behind the furniture and jumped out, to make me feel at ease… slash give me a heart attack.”
Downton catapulted James to Hollywood – Kenneth Branagh cast her as his Cinderella directly from it – and a level of fame she had little control over.
That side has never sat particularly well with her, but then, “I’m not sure I’ve ever met an actor that’s entirely comfortable with fame,” she says. I don’t know, I say, Tom Cruise always looks pretty pleased with himself.
“Well, yeah,” she concedes. “I met him
once. He was so cool, such a gentleman, so interested and interesting.” She maintains he’s an outlier.
In James’s case, the media attention has been occasionally ferocious. The paparazzi are, she says, “a nightmare, but that’s why I live in this area, everyone leaves you alone”. She has been badly burnt before, not least five years ago, when a minor tabloid storm erupted after she was photographed in Rome with her Pursuit of Love co-star Dominic West.
It’s possible that we were already going slightly insane at that point in 2020, because looking back on the photos in the cold light of 2025, it comes across as little more than a boozy group lunch – most of the coverage ignored the fact that there were two other people, including the actors’ shared agent, at the table. Still, West did nothing to help the situation by hosting an embarrassing show-of-unity photocall with his wife. Meanwhile, James stayed quiet. It may well be no coincidence that she has gone on to make multiple projects about women abandoned as they’re hounded in the media.
Pam & Tommy, which explored the build-up and fallout behind Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee’s infamous stolen tape, was one. With the help of a few prosthetics, James disappeared into the role, immaculately mimicking Anderson’s accent and mannerisms, and restoring much of the humanity
robbed from her when the story broke.
As with Wolfe Herd, Anderson was not involved in the telling of her story, and in fact spoke out against the production generally. But she clearly liked James’s work, and invited her to a screening of a Netflix documentary about her life. They eventually met at a Versace show in Los Angeles.
“I was so excited to meet her, I admire her so hugely, and it’s been so incredible and cool to see her [success] lately,” James says. After the “huge responsibility that comes with playing a real person”, she now plans a break.
That said, she is developing another biopic that will see her play a famous dead musician. It’s not Janis Joplin. “But nice try.” I reckon it’s Dusty Springfield.
As the drinkers thin out in the pub, James reflects on where she’s got to, 15 years into her career. She regrets nothing. “I can live in regret, and that’s dangerous, because actually all of it shapes who we are. And you can’t change it anyway.”
Becoming a megastar was “never the goal”, she says, and never will be. She has turned down projects that became huge, taken risks on smaller films, and, in recent years, studiously and successfully avoided being typecast.
That continues, too, with Relay, a brilliant, tightly wound corporate espionage thriller with Riz Ahmed, and Harmonia, an Eighties wilderness mystery about an all-female commune, in which James is a spiritual leader.
“I’ve been wondering with all this talk of ‘manifestation’,” she says. “I’ve never been a great manifester, because I can lean a bit more towards pessimism. And I’ve historically been a bit anxious and modest, which is a very English-girl thing to be. I wonder if I’d manifested more, where I might be.
“But I feel really content and proud of the people I’ve worked with and the roles I’ve played. I’ve also always slightly struggled with a work-life balance, and got great joy from not working, from being in an Italian taverna just dancing around to music.”
Learning to relax and take time off has helped, she says. “There are different traits from all my characters that linger, and I think I’ve actually had to learn to shed characters a bit, to let go of the skin. I think
that’s why it’s really important to take time in between projects.
“If I was going to pick somewhere to live now, which I want to do as I’m a bit sick of London, it would be by the sea in Italy or Mallorca, somewhere where every day I can see the horizon and walk into the water.”
When we met in 2016, I remind her, she told me what she hoped to achieve in the next decade. Shall we check on her progress? “Oh God…” she mutters, “go on.”
Do a Broadway show. “I haven’t done that.” Sing in a musical. “Did that.” Live in New York. “Kinda.” Perform at the National Theatre. “No, but I did do a reading there.” Return to television. She snorts. She has given herself the ick. “I said that? Like I’m this huge movie star deciding to ‘grace’ television again. Christ.” Take up life drawing. “Well, in lockdown I did sketch the foxes in my garden. And I guess they didn’t have clothes on.” And finally, move to Tuscany, to be surrounded by sunflower fields and children.
“Oh, wow,” she says. She throws her hands up. “That’s still the goal. Move to Tuscany, surrounded by sunflower fields and children.”
Opposite page: still from Pam & Tommy (2022)
This page: still from Cinderella (2015)
How Cecil Beaton’s unique vision revitalised and revolutionised fashion photography
“Fashions come and go but style lasts forever” is a quote attributed to Gabrielle Chanel. But it’s an opinion photographer Cecil Beaton would have certainly concurred with, the images he captured across several decades – as historically important as they are visually enchanting – still very much in vogue and currently the subject of a major exhibition at London’s National Portrait Gallery.
Almost entirely self-taught, Beaton established a unique photographic style, described as ‘a marriage of Edwardian stage portraiture, emerging European surrealism and the modernist approach of the great American photographers of the era, all filtered through a determinedly English sensibility’ and his approach saw him earn sittings with a slew of iconic figures: Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, Marlon Brando, Queen Elizabeth II (most memorably for her coronation portrait in 1953), and artists including Lucian Freud, Francis Bacon and Salvador Dalí.
More than a photographer, Beaton was also a gifted fashion illustrator, accomplished writer and brilliant costume designer, the latter skill leading to him landing two Oscars: Gigi (1958) and My Fair Lady (1964).
“I think most people only know the exterior Beaton, the one that was not that serious about things, it seemed, that was about decadence and fun, and his prickly personality, but what intrigued me, the more I looked into him, was his creativity, which was just astonishing,” Lisa Immordino Vreeland told The Telegraph when discussing 2017’s release of a documentary she made about Beaton. “He had this mad, mad desire to create, and in so many different fields.”
But it’s Beaton’s work for Vogue –which earned him the moniker ‘King of Vogue ’ – that the exhibition largely celebrates. Titled Cecil Beaton’s Fashionable World, it is the first exhibition to exclusively explore Beaton’s pioneering contributions to fashion photography, charting how his celebrated artistic style both revitalised and revolutionised fashion photography and led him to the pinnacles of creative achievement.
“Cecil Beaton needs little introduction as a photographer, fashion illustrator, triple Oscar-winning costume designer, social caricaturist, elegant writer of essays and occasionally waspish diaries, stylist, decorator, dandy and party goer, “says the exhibition’s curator, Robin Muir.
“Beaton’s impact spans the worlds of fashion, photography and design. Unquestionably one of the leading visionary forces of the British twentieth century, he also made a lasting contribution to the artistic lives of New York, Paris and Hollywood.”
Born in London in 1904, Beaton displayed an early obsession with beauty and performance. A selftaught photographer, he began staging elaborate portraits of his sisters, draping them in curtains, feathers, and whatever props he could find. These experiments, playful and theatrical, would become the blueprint for a career that blurred
‘He had this mad, mad desire to create, and in so many different fields’
Opening pages: Worldly Colour (Charles James evening dresses), 1948. Original colour transparency. The Cecil Beaton Studio Archive This page: Cecil Beaton, c.1935, Gelatin silver print, The Cecil Beaton Studio Archive, London Opposite page: Elizabeth Taylor, 1955, Gelatin silver print, The Cecil Beaton Studio Archive, London
Previous pages, from left to right: The Second Age of Beauty is Glamour (suit by Hartnell), 1946, Original colour transparency, The Condé Nast Archive, London; At the Tuxedo Ball (Nancy Harris), 1946, Original colour transparency, The Condé Nast Archive, New York Opposite page: Audrey Hepburn in costume for My Fair Lady, 1963. Original colour transparency. The Cecil Beaton Archive, London This page: Best Invitation of the Season (Nina De Voe in ball gown by Balmain), 1951, Original colour transparency, The Condé Nast Archive, New York
the boundaries between art and fantasy. By the 1920s, after studying at Cambridge University, he secured a place at Vogue, where his images redefined the possibilities of fashion photography, elevating it to an art form.
Beaton’s ability to blend whimsy and precision was what made him unique. He captured atmospheres where others might have captured clothing. He summoned entire worlds: aristocrats suspended in dreamlike light, socialites draped in tulle, and swans in mirrored halls.
Each image is iconic not because of who was in front of the lens, but because of what Beaton saw in them: poise, fragility, grandeur, or mystery. He had the rare gift of reflecting someone’s inner aura back at them.
Via a display of some 250 items, including photographs, letters, sketches and costumes, the exhibition shows Beaton at his most triumphant.
Starting in London during the 1920s and 1930s (the era of the ‘Bright Young Things’), Cecil Beaton’s
‘ He was theatrical, eccentric, and he made photography into a performance’
Fashionable World takes visitors from New York and Paris in the Jazz Age to Beaton’s sittings with the legends of Hollywood’s Golden Age. And while WWII saw Beaton’s skills formally employed as an official war photographer, the war’s end ushered in a new era of elegance, Beaton capturing the high fashion brilliance of the 1950s in vivid, glorious colour.
Former Vogue editor Diana Vreeland said of his work: “He didn’t just photograph clothes; he photographed dreams. That’s why people adored him.”
Those who did include other photographers of great renown. “Beaton used many different materials when creating his portraits, including props and backdrops that looked back to
the traditions of 19th - century studio photography,” said Mario Testino. “That dreamy quality, as if time is standing still, is something I learnt from looking at Beaton’s work and often tried to emulate. In Beaton’s images you can feel a stillness, as if there was no real hurry … The set, the light, the clothes … it is a sort of magic we all long for.”
“He was theatrical, eccentric, and he made photography into a performance,” said David Bailey. “We all owe him thatsense of possibility.”
After a career spanning seven decades, Cecil Beaton died in 1980 at his home in Wiltshire, England, leaving behind a legacy not merely of images but of imagination itself: a reminder that style, when infused with vision, can transcend time.
He also left behind something of a manifesto: “Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play it safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.
As its most iconic shoe celebrates 75 years, John Lobb CEO Philippe Gonzalez talks craftsmanship, moving with the times, and making shoes to echo the person wearing them
WORDS JOHN THATCHER
Though it boasts hectares of pretty countryside and a smattering of impressive stately residences (including the childhood home of the late Diana, Princess of Wales) it’s fair to say that Northampton wouldn’t make it onto the ‘must-visit’ list of anyone travelling to the UK. But this quiet part of middle England just so happens to be the epicentre of high quality shoemaking. Home to, among many others, John Lobb.
The history of shoemaking in Northampton stretches all the way back to the 11th century, and it’s a place that has ushered in many industry milestones: it pioneered the shift from individual cobblers to factory-based production, with the artisans’ work split into specialised stages, including cutting and finishing; it perfected the Goodyear welt, a method of attaching the sole to the upper; and it coined the term ‘benchmade’ as a means to describe shoes that are machineassisted but individually finished by hand at the bench.
At John Lobb (its own story starting over a century ago), that rich history is honoured in a way that combines meticulous handcraft, the finest materials, and a harmonious marriage of English tradition and French style (since 1976, John Lobb has been part of Hermès).
It is that balance between convention and innovation that the brand must always strike. And always has done. “At John Lobb, innovation isn’t a recent ambition – it’s part of our founding spirit,” says CEO, Philippe Gonzalez. “Our roots lie in a mindset of curiosity and exploration. We draw on traditional techniques passed down through generations to serve the evolving needs of today and tomorrow.”
That line about techniques that have been passed down familial lines is a pertinent one. At John Lobb’s Northampton factory, where its ready-to-wear and By Request shoes are crafted, you’ll find father and son, husband and wife and other extended family members, so deeply rooted is shoemaking in the town. There are machines, some still in use, that are more than one hundred years old. And people, like the lady who handwrites details into the sides of shoes, who have worked there for close on 40 years.
This page: making the Lopez
Opposite page: Lopez campaign, shot by Aubrey and Hill, styled by Stuart Williamson
‘ It’s the balance between heritage and adaptability that keeps John Lobb both timeless and relevant ’
The process of making John Lobb shoes begins with inspecting and selecting the leather, which is then hand cut and stretched to understand its particular characteristics. It’s then shaped around a last, before first the welt, then the sole is attached, using a special technique to hide stitching and ensure durability. Finally, any custom details, such as initials, are added before each pair is quality checked.
It’s a process that takes 190 individual steps and seven days.
“Everything starts with a sketch, a material and a deep reservoir of savoirfaire,” says Gonzalez. “We pay attention to sourcing the finest materials, especially full-grain leathers that are chosen not just for their beauty but for their ability to develop a rich patina and live beautifully over time.
“Craftsmanship is at the heart of everything we do. The hand of the artisan is essential: from the first cut
to the final polish, every gesture carries meaning. There’s no compromise on quality. In a world that’s constantly moving, our pillars remain steady: the artisan’s touch and the integrity of the materials we choose.
“Rather than chasing innovation for its own sake, we evolve by listening and responding to shifts in how people live and what they expect from their footwear. I believe it is this balance between heritage and adaptability that keeps John Lobb both timeless and relevant.”
The shoe that is the perfect illustration of this is the Lopez loafer, which this year turns 75 years old – by way of celebration, a special model, the Lopez 75, has been made, of which there are only 500 individually numbered pairs globally.
It was a Chilean aristocrat by the name of Arturo López Willshaw for whom the original shoe was made, its
Opening pages, from left to right: the Lopez, shot by Aubrey and Hill; Lopez campaign, shot by Aubrey and Hill, styled by Stuart Williamson
design drawing inspiration from the original penny loafer. And it’s the shoe with which John Lobb stepped into the world of ready-to-wear shoes. Though times have changed, the Lopez, with its characteristic oval cut, remains immediately recognisable. “The Lopez is more than a loafer. It’s a symbol of our maison, and we’re deeply attached to it,” enthuses Gonzalez. “It reflects a way of life that’s confident, poised and very much in tune with its time. For us, the Lopez embodies everything John Lobb stands for today. It’s a true icon, and its spirit runs through everything we do. You could say it’s our signature: a constant, universal expression of our craft.
“What makes the Lopez so special is its versatility. It’s always appropriate for any occasion. You’ll see it on red carpets, at weddings, in the office. It’s simple, functional and effortlessly elegant. And, like all our shoes, it’s made to last. We design with longevity in mind, and we build with repairability at the core. That way, the Lopez isn’t just a shoe you wear, it’s one you live with, season after season.”
‘ The Lopez isn’t just a shoe you wear, it’s one you live with, season after season ’
Versatility is an increasingly important factor in footwear, particularly men’s. “Today’s lifestyles are fluid and fast-paced: we design shoes that accompany men through their 24-hour journey, from biking to work to late dinners and countryside escapes. We believe footwear should rise to meet that. At John Lobb, we’re attuned to this evolution. Our collections reflect a contemporary sensibility while staying true to who we are. It’s about offering versatility without compromise: shoes that are elegant, comfortable and bold to match the lifestyle of the modern man.”
Since taking the helm at John Lobb in 2019, Gonzalez has introduced the concept of ‘slow evolution’, which he describes as “our way of staying true to who we are while moving forward with purpose.” How does he view the
inevitable influence of AI? “At the heart of our shoemaking is a reverence for craft that’s increasingly rare in today’s fast world. Every pair we produce is the result of over 190 steps, many of which are performed by hand by artisans who’ve honed their skills over decades. We use only the finest materials and we build each shoe to last a lifetime, not a season. What makes our craft exceptional isn’t just the technique but the philosophy: we believe shoes should be made with patience, precision, and pride. AI may assist with data or fit, but it will never replicate the intuition of a master shoemaker shaping a last or selecting a hide. That human touch is irreplaceable and it’s what defines us.” Through the brand’s bespoke and By Request services, John Lobb’s customers are increasingly using their shoes to define themselves. “We have definitely seen a growing interest in personalisation,” says Gonzalez. “These are two levels of exceptional craftsmanship that truly set us apart. Both services respond to a very clear desire: to own something made just for you.
This page: Lopez campaign, shot by Aubrey and Hill, styled by Stuart Williamson Opposite page: Philippe Gonzalez, John Lobb CEO
‘ Human touch is irreplaceable and it’s what defines us ’
“With our By Request offer, clients can customise any model from our catalogue. They choose the leather, the sole, the details – it’s a unique opportunity to make a classic truly personal. On the bespoke side, it goes even deeper. We’re no longer talking about models or sizes. It’s a shoe designed and crafted entirely around the client’s vision. It begins with a conversation between the artisan and the wearer and ends with a pair of shoes that are completely unique and made to measure.
“What’s exciting is that more and more clients are seeking this level of individuality. They’re not just buying a product; they’re shaping it. And that’s exactly what these services are designed to do: accompany someone’s personal style, not substitute it.”
Does Gonzalez subscribe to the old adage ‘you can tell a lot about a man by the shoes he wears’? “I believe shoes can say a lot about a person – not by defining who they are, but by reflecting how they carry themselves. Our mission is to ensure that the men who wear our shoes feel good, confident, and attractive, without ever compromising their true personality. Every pair we design is meant to support and enhance one’s attitude and individuality. So yes, shoes do speak – but only when they’re crafted to echo the person wearing them. Shoemaking is about creating something that quietly elevates the wearer, not just in appearance but in confidence.”
For over 150 years, John Lobb has perfected the art of doing just that.
These pages: Lopez campaign, shot by Aubrey and Hill, styled by Stuart Williamson
