The Legacy of Patrick Kelly

One of my favorite pastimes is going to museums. While most museums remain closed due to COVID-19, there are a few across the country that are offering virtual tours. Yesterday, I got the chance to virtually experience Derrick Adams exhibition: ‘Patrick Kelly, The Journey‘ at SCAD FASH Museum. On display until January 3, 2021, the exhibition explores the influential life and work of Black American fashion designer Patrick Kelly - with particular interest in his time spent in Atlanta.

Patrick Kelly is the first American to be admitted into the Chambre Syndicale Du Prêt-à-Porter, the prestigious governing body of the French ready-to-wear industry. He won the attention of the fashion industry with his body-conscious jersey dresses adorned with mismatched buttons and bold embellishments. He expressed himself through bold fabrics, colorful geometric form and cheery designs. And today, Patrick Kelly would undoubtedly be considered one of the most controversial fashion designers of all time.

EARLY LIFE

Kelly was born in Vicksburg, Mississippi in 1954. His love of fashion began when he was in elementary school, where he learned to sew. After attending the HBCU Jackson State University, Kelly struggled to make it as a designer so he moved to Atlanta. He worked in a boutique in Buckhead and made a name for himself by repurposing pieces from the Goodwill for clients. He also designed fashion trade shows at Atlanta’s AmericasMart.

Kelly then moved to New York, where he connected with Black supermodel Pat Cleveland, who fell in love with his work. Cleveland encouraged Kelly to move to Paris (she even purchased him a one-way ticket) to further pursue his dreams. He moved to Paris in 1980.

CAREER SUCCESS IN THE CITY OF LIGHTS

Kelly’s career blossomed in Paris, where in a short time he went from selling his wares on the streets to producing glamorous fashion shows alongside Sonia Rykiel and Yves Saint Laurent. Kelly showed his first collection in 1985. The collection exuded Kelly’s joy and it arrived at a moment when the fashion industry was welcoming color and ornamentation. That same year, designer Christian Lacroix introduced le pouf -- the crinoline-lined party dress that overtook every society gala. The television show "Dynasty" was in its heyday. And popular culture was awash in padded shoulders, winged hair, big spenders and conspicuous consumption. After his debut show, he began to dress high profile celebrities including Grace Jones and Isabella Rossellini.

In 1987, the large fashion conglomerate Warnaco, which also owned Calvin Klein and Speedo, invested in his business. And in 1988, Patrick Kelly became the first American ever to be admitted to the Chambre Syndicale. He accomplished this feat while highlighting looks that proved fashion can be protest and praise simultaneously, even when steeped in historical pain and taboo.

RACIALLY-CHARGED DESIGNS

In the glitzy world of Parisian fashion, Kelly was constantly thinking about how to pay homage to his Black roots. His life partner once famously quoted Kelly saying that “in one pew at Sunday church in Vicksburg, there’s more fashion to be seen than on a Paris runway.” 

Kelly was true to his Southern roots. At the time, he said his use of multi-colored and multi-size buttons was inspired by his grandmother, who fixed his clothes with whatever buttons she had on hand. A black dress featured red buttons sewn on in the curved shape of a smile, with two googly eyes in the middle was a representation of blackface on a jersey dress.

Kelly was well-aware of everything that blackface represented. He studied art history and black history at Jackson State University, and collected more than 8,000 pieces of Back memorabilia, including boxes of Darkie toothpaste and figurines of Aunt Jemima. For him, those artifacts held personal meaning and reminded him of his own experience as a Black person growing up in the ’50s and ’60s in the Deep South. 

Once, a woman told Kelly that she didn’t like Aunt Jemima figures because they reminded her of maids. He responded, ‘My grandmother was a maid, honey.’ My memorabilia means a lot to me.” For Kelly, there was power in wresting those images from the people who created them to hurt and disempower Black people. He wanted to appropriate these symbols for himself to tell his own story.

Eventually, Kelly made the golliwog his logo, printing his name in bold letters around the blackface. He used the image on the paper bags women - most of whom were white - carried out of his store, filled with his dresses that retailed for between $600 and $1,800.

Other designers depicted a sanitized version of their past, but Kelly presented an ugly and discomforting look at race and did it without flinching. 

It wasn’t just blackface that Kelly featured in his work. He pulled from many corners of Black history. Take, for instance, a banana skirt and bra top he created in 1986, a specific reference to Josephine Baker, an African-American woman who emigrated to Paris. Baker became an ally in the French Resistance during World War Two as well as one of the best-known performers at the Folies Bergère. As a civil rights activist, Baker refused to perform before segregated audiences. Kelly didn’t just copy her famous costume in his show: He dedicated his entire fall/winter collection to her.

Kelly returned to Atlanta in the summer of 1988 to showcase his latest line at a fashion show to kick-off of the Democratic National Convention. Kelly died just one year later from an illness associated with AIDS. He is buried in Paris.

Patrick Kelly’s designs are still worn today by celebrities including Solange and Lala Anthony.

MY TAKE AWAYS

During the tour at SCAD FASH, artist Derrick Adams said he wanted to “exalt Patrick Kelly and put his work on a pedestal.” And he did. But Patrick Kelly’s most controversial work is not featured in the exhibit, which leaves out defining moments in Mr. Kelly’s story. In this poli-social climate of Kanye West and Donald Trump, the exclusion suggests that while some of us have learned to embrace and disempower the depictions once sought to inflict shame, many of us have not. It makes me question if consumer and luxury brands that we’ve formerly canceled due to the use of blackface designs were in actuality paying tribute to a Black fashion icon.

Patrick Kelly said it best, “White people are not offended by Mickey Mouse. Why should we be afraid of Aunt Jemima?”

Peace and Love…for Yourself and Others. XO

Article excerpts originally penned by Elizabeth Segran, Ph.D., a staff writer at Fast Company. To read the full unabridged version go to www.fastcompany.com.

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