Can there really be such a concept as Celtic fashion? Yes, says French designer Christian Le Drezen whose third collection - for next autumn/winter - was shown last month in Paris's Carrousel du Louvre. Actually, Le Drezen is Breton, which helps to explain both the unusual surname (in his native language, it means thorn or bramble) and the passion for Celtic legends. Originally from Finistere on the Crozon peninsula, he became a chef in his teens before heading to New York where he worked in the fashion business.
Returning to France, Le Drezen was employed successively by the houses of Kenzo and Dior, after which he created his own range of jewellery using the Touareg silversmiths of Nigeria. But he always wanted to design clothes and so, after gaining experience creating costumes for a number of opera productions and with financial help from a banker friend, made his fashion debut last year during the Paris collections.
It is a tribute to both his talents and his persistence that Le Drezen received plenty of press coverage for this first show; Paris is deluged with designers trying to secure attention and only a small number of the best-known can be confident of notice. The quality of Le Drezen's work, however, was spotted not just by the French but also overseas media. Influential trade publication Women's Wear Daily, for example, picked out as highlights from his show both handpainted and silver-stamped tulle dirndl skirts and colourful, fake astrakhan skirt-suits.
A year later, Le Drezen was invited to join the official Paris schedule by becoming a member of the Chambre syndicale des createurs de mode. Suddenly he has become a man in demand: L'Express reported that a number of couture houses had approached him to design for them and Liberation punningly spoke of his latest collection as being "une revelation en pleine celtitude". Which brings up once again the subject of Le Drezen's Celtic inspiration. He calls his work "L'ame celte de la mode" (the Celtic soul of fashion) and says both fairy tales and the religious traditions of Brittany have provided him with inspiration.
Thankfully, this does not translate into faux-Celtic swirls and sub-Book of Kells patterns. Nor is Le Drezen's Celtic vision in any way similar to that of the Gaelic revivalists at the start of this century; emerald green cloaks are not obligatory. Instead, his clothes share certain qualities with the Belgian school of fashion - in particular the emphasis on sombre colours, layering and long lines - combined with a keen interest in skilled handwork. Traditional embroidery, knitting, crochet and applique all turn up in his designs, as do familiar materials such as cashmere and mohair. Favoured colours for the season ahead are grey, black and brown relieved with outbursts of white for shirts and aprons.
The costumes of Breton women, familiar in Ireland thanks to the paintings of many Irish artists such as Roderic O'Conor and William Leech who worked in the region in the late 19th/early 20th century, clearly inspire Le Drezen - just as traditional Irish dress once did Sybil Connolly. In his case, the Breton elements include aprons over flaring petticoat skirts, sombre long coats, wide collars and elaborate sections of embroidery. What marks these clothes apart from the old forms is the use of luxurious fabrics together with such extra details as hand-painting. The result: fashion which manages to be at once Celtic and contemporary.
