Dior and I is a documentary that chronicles a transition for Christian Dior SE, a European luxury goods company primarily known for its women’s couture line, as Raf Simons became the creative director of the House of Dior. It also echoes distinctions originally made by the French fashion designer between the man and the business that shares his name while creating visual ties almost of a benevolent spirit quality hovering over the House of Dior as it blesses Simons’ arrival and suggests that the House of Dior is eternal and transcends one individual man whether he was the founder or the new creative director.
I watch fashion documentaries to immerse myself in something beautiful and learn something more about the fashion world. I did not expect that Dior and I would be triggering, but if I knew a little bit more about the backstory of this documentary, I may have been more sympathetic to the documentary and its goal than appalled. I know nothing about the actual ties between Frederic Tcheng and Christian Dior SE, but the message of the documentary is completely in line with the company’s efforts to rehabilitate its image after a horrific incident on February 23, 2011. John Galliano was the company’s creative director at the time, and he made some explicitly, totally not thinly veiled anti-Semitic and pro Nazi comments, which is against the law in France and can land you in jail, but could get you elected in a political campaign in the US so if Galliano is willing to move, maybe he can get a job. Christian Dior SE fired him on March 1, which is not as great as the next day, but pretty close considering that there was a scheduled presentation of Galliano’s Fall-Winter 2011-2012 ready-to-wear collection on March 4. They hired an interim creative director, who received negative reviews. When they hired Simons, the company promoted Simons by comparing him to the founder. Both men love and collect art and were self-educated designers. While the documentary is subtler in its comparisons, the film shares the same impulse as the company to elevate Simons to the founder’s status on his first day.
Dior and I made a big mistake by overinflating Simons’ reputation, and Simons suffers by comparison. For viewers such as myself who know nothing about Simons, the backstory of Christian Dior SE’s decision to hire him or the duties of a creative director distinguished from the duties of a fashion designer, it had the infuriating effect of watching the retroactive rationalization of watching yet another unqualified mediocrity rise as if he was cream. It was only when I saw the final product that my condemnation relented as he made enthusiastic mistakes and was overwhelmed with emotion at the result of his vision, which was stunning.
Dior and I may have wanted to seem as if it was business as usual and just focus on the positive, but by omitting the obstacles that Christian Dior SE and Simons had to overcome to get past the controversy and get back to its normal beautiful business, it actually hurt Simons and makes him seem as if he is an arbitrary, whimsical taskmaster less interested in the clothes and the business and more interested in setting the stage for them. I absolutely despise “just get it done” people who have no understanding of how things get done and could not if his or her life depended on it. I have always believed that to be at the helm, you should have an innate understanding of every job that you supervise, and even be able to do it if necessary because at the end of the day, everything is your responsibility regardless of whether it fails or succeeds.
Dior and I shows Simons’ introduction to the House of Dior, which is more of an introduction to his two assistants: Pieter Muller, who works on the women’s side, and Fulvio Rigoni, who works on the men’s side. (Why can’t you just hire them for less and cut Simons out?) The documentary shows that Muller and Rigoni know everyone and do all the actual work.
What does the documentary show Simons doing? He doesn’t speak French so he can’t communicate with the workers. Neither do I, and I actually studied it. He doesn’t sketch. I’m hopeless with a pencil. He has only worked in ready to wear for men’s clothes, not couture and not women’s clothes. Advantage goes to Simons. He rips out images that inspire him then hands it to a worker to make sketches based on his concepts. So he has an Andy Warhol Factory thing going? Cool, I do too! He is only interested in the future, not the past. Advantage goes to me, especially since Christian Dior SE really likes its ties to the past. He visits museums for inspiration and comes up with an idea. Me too, let’s go together next time.
Simons finally decides to go to the office to bark orders, not listen to the women’s technical expertise, but also not offer a practical technical response to their concerns. “Just get it done” guy. He is furious when one of the head workers has to fly to Manhattan to help a customer instead of doing his work. Bitch, who do you think pays for your work? You just got here. You’re yelling at your work horse, show horse. With an eight-week deadline, the workers have to work on Saturday, and he is going away for the weekend. Hate! Um, who made this deadline? It took forty-eight minutes before I saw Simons touch some clothes. In contrast, documentaries like McQueen and Unzipped showed that the subjects, no matter how big they got, were compulsively drawn to clothes. If the documentary gets to compare Simons to the founder of his employer, I get to compare him to whomever I want, fair or not. Everything is “intimidating” for this guy: reading Dior’s autobiography, Christian Dior & moi, which is the inspiration for the title of this film (he only got through fifteen pages-try reading The History of the CIA, buddy), being interviewed, walking down the catwalk. Ohmygawd, your life is SO hard. Eye roll. Don’t take the job and get off your cross.
I am naughty for relishing the moment when the CEO comes in, flatters Simons to his face then clearly looked as if the minute that he was out of the camera’s focus, he was going to lose his crap on whoever permitted Simons to spend that much money unchecked. I don’t care what he said, he did not look happy, and everyone except Simons seemed a little nervous afterwards.
Dior and I did leave me impressed that regardless of the competency or leadership style of the creative director, the House of Dior’s success rests on the shoulders of its workers. I adored that the documentary captured the magic of a regular work day for these magnificent experts. They are the living, breathing eternal spirit of Dior, the substance, not the sizzle.
I didn’t realize that Dior and I was more of an image rehabilitation infomercial, not a documentary. It has subtitles so if that turns you off, run. Knowing the backstory, it makes sense to hire a black horse like Simons who is not a show boat like Galliano and would simply be happy for the opportunity, but without it, I spent ninety minutes yelling at my TV as if I was watching sports.
(Side note: I’d love to read Dior’s autobiography, Christian Dior & moi, but can’t find an English translation. If you know how to get one, please let me know!)