Meet Dickie Wilkinson, a young British designer with
big dreams. With his trademark bow tie and black-rimmed spectacles,
he's not your stereotypical businessman. But that's all about to
change. Wilkinson is newly enrolled at Doug Richard's School for
Creative Startups. He will be blogging for Smarta throughout the
year, talking us through the highs - and the lows - of launching a
creative business in London. Here is a little bit about his
entrepreneurial life so far.
Many of you will not have heard the name Dickie Wilkinson. But
over the next year I hope to change that. I am planning to launch
my own men's accessories label.
This is the first in what will be a series of blogs charting my
progress.
While my inspiration comes from many sources -my debut
collection was inspired by poisonous frogs and Grace Jones - my
influences are surprisingly consistent: The Pet Shop Boys, Mark
Farrow, Jeeves and Wooster, Tim Burton films and a love of all
things sartorial. Think of me as a Willy Wonka for the
21st Century.
Hailing as I do from the North East of England, my early years
were more Billy Elliott than Little Lord Fauntleroy. Although I do
recall that Mother would always dress me in a shirt and tie for
nursery school (velvet in winter). By the age of ten I was quoting
'Wall Street' striding around town in red braces, filofax in hand
(less Gordon Gecko and more Del Trotter).
Moving to London, with the fatherly advice 'They all dress weird
down there anyway, son' ringing in my ears, I spent my student
years taking myself far too seriously whilst creating fashion
disasters and imposing them on London Town without a shred of
irony.
With a degree in my now impeccably-tailored pocket I was then
ready to step jauntily into the world of fashion, securing an
apprenticeship at the brightly coloured menswear brand Duchamp.
From there I progressed to designing accessories ranges for Ted
Baker and T.M. Lewin. Specialising in cufflink-design at Lewins, I
created the exclusive, engineered fitting they are now renowned for
and persuaded them to develop my elegant ladies range instead of
the couple of 'girlie-coloured' cufflinks they had sold before
then.
I also pursued other creative outlets, cheekily clinching a
freelance menswear design role at huntin'-shootin'-fishin' brand
Farlows by declaring: "I don't hunt, shoot or fish and I hate the
colour green but I'm still the right person for this job."
It was a commercially successful time, and many of my designs
remain best-sellers. But I felt that in some cases my work
was becoming stale, as there was no room for experimentation, the
brands and their business models were dictated by previous years'
sales figures rather than a design-led progression.
I wanted creative freedom and I wanted my name on the box.
Over the last couple of years or so I have been developing my
own range of cufflinks and researched the viability of my
ideas.
I am fascinated by how men shop and what appeals to them
aesthetically. This has formed the basis of the business plan I am
now working on.
It was while testing one of my theories on male spending habits
at an arts market that I met serial entrepreneur Doug Richard. He
was at the event seeking fresh talent for his School for Creative Start-ups. Mr Richard and
I hit it off instantly. Well, he was wearing a Duchamp Tie, so at
least I knew we shared some aesthetic.
Mea culpa, I must confess that initially I was not sure how Mr
Richard's course would be of benefit to myself. I am a designer
after all and cannot allow fripperies such as business plans and
profit margins to wrinkle my brow or my suits. Furthermore, surely
whenever 'business people' get involved in creative endeavours then
all creative integrity goes out of the window in pursuit of
commercial success and financial return? Doesn't it?
Speaking to Mr Richard I guess I was wrong, very wrong. He
emphasised the need for creativity to be the driving force behind
any business. Especially in the current climate.
Could this liberally-minded, all-embracing designer have been
rather blinkered? Perhaps I am not the best person to sell or
market my work, perhaps another perspective on my branding may
help, perhaps I am too close, too personal, too petulant to truly
perceive my weaknesses? Perhaps.
But I don't think I'm the only one. In fact I think this
attitude prevails amongst the creative community.
I met Smarta deputy editor Rebecca Burn-Callander at the School
for Creative Start-ups launch party. We agreed that maybe there is
a need for these perceived separate camps to converse more and I
hope over the coming months to update you on my progress. More
importantly, I hope that my blogs open up discussion and dispel
some of the myths around mixing creativity and commerce, whatever
the outfit one is wearing.
Find out
more about Dickie Wilkinson
Buy Dickie's designs