Born to Be Brad (27 page)

“People were starting to ask me when I was going to strike out on my own. At first, I was taken aback. But then I realized: It is time.”

Prabal Gurung is a rising star in the design world, and we’ve come to be close friends. He graduated from Parsons School of Design—where Donna Karan, Marc Jacobs, and Jack and Lazaro from Proenza Schouler all studied—and he spent two years working with Cynthia Rowley before becoming the design director at Bill Blass. In February of 2009 he launched his own collection. I was sent photos of a few pieces before the presentation and I was blown away. I thought the clothes were stunning. They were exquisitely made—and so luxurious. The use of feathers and color made my head spin. We
needed
these clothes for Rachel’s girls. Right after the presentation I attacked his PR director, Caitlin, and requested two dresses for Demi Moore—both of which she’d wear to events. The first was a black-and-white asymmetrical dress, which she wore to a Cartier party. Shortly thereafter, we dressed Demi in a Prabal Gurung asymmetrical dress with a feathered ombré skirt for the launch of the perfume Wanted, which she was the face of. Demi tweeted a photo of herself in that dress, saying, “Wonderful young designer to look out for, Prabal Gurung!” And his business exploded. Michelle Obama wore a red, matte jersey, hand-stitched draped dress by Prabal Gurung to the White House Correspondents’ Dinner in May 2010. And in November 2010, Prabal was the runner-up for the Vogue/CFDA prize, awarded by Anna Wintour herself.

And so I wanted to pick his brain. Prabal and I had dinner at Bond Street. He’d successfully built his brand, leaving the comfort—and high-profile perch—he had at Bill Blass to run his own outfit. I’d seen him grow his business from nothing. I wanted to know: How did he do it? What advice could he offer me?

“There are a lot of people warming up around the teat,” he said. “It’s very easy to get carried away with people saying how fabulous you are. Our industry is full of that. Make sure the end goal is clear. There will be people who love you and equally people who are going to hate you. You just have to keep your head firmly on your shoulders.”

As we ate lots of sushi and sashimi, Prabal said, “Talent and charm can only take you so far. Humility is the utmost key for success. All the hype and the attention is very short-lived. You should be interested in longevity.” When the night was over, he said, “This is not the beginning of Brad the Fabulous. It’s the beginning of Brad the Stylist. You have to pound the pavement.”

He was right. I wasn’t leaving Rachel because she changed. I was leaving because I changed. Because I had something to say.

It’s painful when the universe sends you that moment of clarity, when the universe suggests you shake things up. Especially when that message comes during a tough job market and a worse economy. You wonder: Will I ever get work again? Is this a rash decision? Am I throwing away a good opportunity? And those were just the questions Gary asked me. I had my own concerns. But the fear felt good. It felt
right.
I just needed to trust myself and do it.

“Humility is the utmost key for success.”

It was early summer 2010 and I was staying at the Trump SoHo with Rachel. We were in town for an event, and Danielle Nachmani—my friend from the
Vogue
internship—came by the hotel for dinner. She was working for Annabel Tolman, a celebrity stylist who had been the fashion director at
Interview
magazine and is known for styling celebrities like Scarlett Johansson and America Ferrera with a rock and roll, but still feminine, sensibility. Danielle had decided she was going to leave and work with clients on her own.

“I’m leaving Annabel,” Danielle said.

I was impressed and emboldened. Danielle was signed by an agency, Starworks Artists, she explained, and she was branching out on her own. As she filled me in on her news, the two of us leaned in close. It was a huge moment.

“This is not the beginning of Brad the Fabulous. It’s the beginning of Brad the Stylist.”

Rachel hadn’t planned to join us for dinner, but she popped into the restaurant to say hello. She sat down at the table for a drink, and after Danielle broke her news, Rachel began to give her advice on starting her business. Later, Rachel would say this was the night she knew she’d lost me. The moment she walked into the restaurant and saw Danielle and I huddled together, she knew I’d be leaving soon.

When I finally made the move, I was terrified. I was calling Rachel, and she was putting it off. Because she knew. Finally, I sent her a text that said, “I really need to talk to you today.” Because I knew if I didn’t do it right then, I was going to chicken out.

“The fear felt good. It felt
right.
”

When I sat down with Rachel and Rodger, I was very explicit about the reasons why I wanted to leave. That I wanted to try and see what styling on my own would be like. I gave Rachel more than two months’ notice and stayed past my end date to finish out a photo shoot with her. I was very honest with them—that I had this strong feeling inside of myself that it was time for us to part ways. But I was adamant about the fact that I didn’t want this to prevent us from being friends and it was my hope that when I left we’d be able to continue to talk on the phone and text and do all of the things that we used to do. Although this has been questioned, I have never solicited a client of hers. I will always credit her with being a great teacher and boss and I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity to work with her. I was ready to go out on my own. And yet in so many ways, I wasn’t ready at all. Was I making a leap? Or jumping into the abyss?

9

Take risks and be bold. And not just in fashion.

THOUGH I WOULDN’T ANNOUNCE
my split from Rachel Zoe until September 29, I’d actually given her my notice in July. We agreed to keep the news quiet until after New York Fashion Week. And now here it was. While it was liberating to make my own Fashion Week schedule, I was also freaking out. People were inviting me to parties and to shows. But why? I was a TV personality without a TV show. I was a stylist without any clients.

“I was a TV personality without a TV show. I was a stylist without any clients.”

The week was nonstop. The
New York Times
sent a reporter to follow me around to write a profile of me as the “breakout star” of
The Rachel Zoe Project.
(I struggled not to tell the writer that I’d already left the show.) I was interviewed by TV crews, giving my reactions to the collections. I sat front row at Simon Spurr’s presentation, alongside Matt Bomer from
White Collar
(hot). His was a full runway show, and Simon’s clothes were the definition of exquisite British tailoring, with three-piece suits and waistcoats, in a palette grounded in neutrals with yellow, pink, and blue woven into it. I was interviewed by TV crews for my reactions to the collections. I sat front row at Alexander Wang.

For the cover of the Style section of the
New York Times
, I wore a full Michael Bastian look from his Spring/Summer 2010 collection. The bag is Louis Vuitton, and this is one of my favorite runway looks. Color always looks good in photographs. I wore this because it fit perfectly and didn’t need alterations, and because I knew I’d never regret it.

Photograph by Katy Winn/Getty Images

“It was heartbreaking. I knew it was the end of a very special era and a time that I would never have again.”

Before the Alexander Wang show, I met up with Rachel, Rodger, and Rachel’s sister Pam. We had lunch outside Pastis, and the moment felt celebratory and sad all at once. I’d made Rachel a photo album of pictures of the two of us from the past two years and eight months together—photos from Paris Fashion Week, photos from the first season premiere party for the TV show, photos of us with Terry Richardson. We flipped through the album together at the restaurant and we both began to cry, big heaving sobs. It was heartbreaking. I knew it was the end of a very special era and a time that I would never have again. I wished that our relationship would continue. We’d shared this wild experience together that was
The Rachel Zoe Project.
But I felt like this was a good-bye. And there was so much sadness.

Terry Richardson shot Cameron Diaz for the cover of
Harper’s Bazaar
. We shot all day on this roof, with Cameron standing around in this gold, long-sleeved Balmain dress while Terry was blasting Alicia Keys and Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind.” Rachel and I posed for this photo during an amazing moment as we watched the city lights come on.

I formally announced my split from Rachel in September 2010 in the pages of
People
magazine, saying, in a prepared statement, “There’s a point where either I do it now or I’ll never know what it’s like to spread my wings and soar.”

Yet why did I feel like my wings had been clipped?

“I loved that. I worked for one of the best stylists in the world, but I needed my best friend to tell me to edit.”

The work wasn’t just slow, it was nonexistent. And when it did come, it was comical in only the way things in my life can be. I was still the outsider looking in. My first job on my own was for
Entertainment Weekly,
styling Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhaal for the cover, timed to the release of their Oscar hopeful,
Love and Other Drugs.
The magazine had offered the gig to Rachel, but she was pregnant and unavailable to fly to New York. When they called me, believe me, I was on the next flight out. I flew myself to New York and would lose money on the job, but I was desperate to keep my name out there. There was some speculation that I wanted to poach Anne Hathaway. If anything, I would have poached Jake, who works with the stylists Nina and Clare Hallworth—a.k.a. the Twins. I wanted to establish myself as a men’s stylist, and he was on my list of dream clients.