Featured Artist

Rowena Gill: Dumpster Queen

By Published On: February 3rd, 2025

When you walk into Rowena Gill’s Millbrook atelier, you are most likely to find her in the garden, at her table, intricately cutting fabrics, sewing silk thread, or attaching 50 small buttons to a boned corset. As she greets you, she tilts her head, sizing you up for an idea of fabric and style. 

Gill found her passion as a young child, working with her grandmother, who taught her the early steps of fabric and thread. After growing up in the UK, her family moved to France when Gill was 13, where she quickly adapted, learning French, and by 17, she was studying at Studio Berçot in Paris under her mentors, Monsieur Tournier and Madame Rucki, a small fashion school focused on style and detail. Here, Rowena fell in love with fabric design and the intertwining of how the body and fabric move together as one. 

Rowena Gill in her studio with her Vivienne Westwood shoes

How did you develop your passion for fabric?

My formal training was in couture and tailoring in Paris, and I learned from my mentor, Monsieur Tournier. However, my earliest memories are of sewing with my grandmother. Her mother was also a fantastic designer who made clothes and patterns for everyone around her; she could turn a simple sketch into extraordinary pieces. My great uncle, her son John Donald, became a brilliant jeweler; his work was organically nature oriented. My sisters are both artists, and my uncle is a stained-glass artist, so there is a thread running through our family to create and design. 

I created my first collection in Paris using beads on clothing, which was uncommon then. When the prominent designers found out, they loved it; they hired me to make corsets and similar pieces for the catwalk. These were high-end, one-off couture pieces.

Much of this work transpired through chance in Paris. While coming home from working on a fashion show at about 2 or 3am to where I lived in the fashion fabric district, I noticed some sparkly objects in the street. I am like a magpie, drawn to anything that sparkles. This beaded trail led to a dustbin outside the flat. I started rummaging through the dustbin and found thousands of beads. I am very proud to be a dumpster queen! The gentleman who threw all these beads out was still up and saw me in the dustbins. He said, “I am emptying an attic. Tomorrow morning, come and visit me.” So, the following day, I went to his apartment across the street, where he had bins of glass jewels and beads. It was terrific; they were all vintage beads from the late 1800s, utterly gorgeous, and he gave them all to me, such a gift. Then, one thing led to another. I started making fabric from the beads, and then the jewelry line emerged. 

On her worktable lies an exquisite skirt made with tiny glass beads akin to lace. “The way I threaded these pieces gives it elasticity and moveability. This whole process felt instinctive to me.” She started making jeweled dresses, which grew into sculptural jeweled works. Some were just arm pieces or high collars and chokers, sculptural and elegant, that pull over the skin-like fabric. This series was designed for catwalk shows. They would never be practical on a winter day, but they were incredibly beautiful and in vogue in the 1990s. 

200 year old family heirloom. Handmade lace with double satin silk crepe, 2018.

How did you find your way from Paris to upstate New York?

Everything is about chance and serendipity. When I came to America, I was based in Palo Alto, California. However, I wanted to show my work in New York, so I took a flight. Upon arrival, I hopped into a taxi with a suitcase of my jeweled pieces. I asked the taxi driver, “Could you possibly take me to an area with good shops?” This was before the Internet, so I did not know where to go. He said, “Sounds like you want to go to Soho.” So, I found this shop Fragments, and rather brazenly, I walked in. The owner seemed flustered and said, “Oh, you’re late.” Being relatively young and shy then, I didn’t dare tell him, “I can’t be late because you don’t know me.” He told me to go in the back and lay everything on the table, saying, “She’s going to be here in two minutes.” And I’m thinking, “Oh my God. What do I do? What do I do?” So, I went back and placed my work on the table. Then I was introduced to Jeffrey and Abby. When they saw my jewelry, they looked at each somewhat puzzled. Jeffrey asked, “So where are the handbags?” 

I said, “I was trying to tell you that I don’t think I am the person you were expecting.” He started to smile, and Abby turned and said, “But this is spectacular work, Jeffrey. What a find!” Abby was the buyer for Saks Fifth Avenue. Everything snowballed, and Fragments became my USA agent. Sometimes, you must be brave; ironically, I had never thought America would be my platform. 

So how did you fulfill their orders?

I had to hire six girls in California, and we worked on this collection for three years. However, I lost this business as my work was being copied for less and I was undercut. Sadly, this happens. It shook me, but I had a defining moment when I put all the dots and eyes back in place and figured out what I truly loved. I realized that I love jewelry, but my vision and passion was to work with the entire body, and hence, I wanted to create jeweled clothing and jewelry dresses.

Does the body motivate your practice?

The whole concept of a person, her character, and her personality come through her clothing, and I am a part of her tool to express who she is. I didn’t feel I had that in the early days, so I was happy to lose that part of my business because it forced me to go in another direction. I was disgusted about how I was treated in the commercial side of corporate industries. Hence, I decided never to do that again, and I only worked with individuals and created one-off pieces. When every single piece is bespoke, the work will never be in a store. I made a wedding dress for Lisa Haugen, which led to making items for Sharon Stone. Ultimately moving to the East Coast, I found my way to upstate New York where I have been based for 20 years. 

Every dress has a new pattern and a new muslin. I do not duplicate. Each piece is unique and fascinating because it’s for a different body and tells a different story that appeals to what I am creating for that person. 

What is your process with a potential or new client?

I show them my work, and I experience the energy they exude and how they portray themselves. I ask them to bring photos and pieces they love, and we sit down and work within that sphere, creating something the client will love. When we start talking, sometimes I realize that person will look beautiful in a particular style, so I shift in that direction, and she’ll say, “Oh, I’ve never done that,” but then they’ll try a few pieces on. As you talk to them, you can feel a narrative coming through. I need to know where they are going, what they are doing, and what the piece is for, for example, mother of the bride, mother of the groom, debutante ball, or museum opening. 

Portrait of Rowena Gill in front of a bridal dress

Have you done red carpet-outfits for award ceremonies?

Yes, I have done a few red walks, but I cannot mention names, as I like being discreet regarding my work. My clients come from all over the world. This summer, for example, I had brides from Boston, the Berkshires, Manhattan, London, and the West Coast. The business grows organically by word of mouth.

Have you ever had a creative block, and how do you overcome such a block?

Creativity comes from creativity. As soon as you sit down and start creating, it comes. My biggest fear is when I get wrapped up in the mundanity of everything; domesticity kills me. If I am doodling, drawing, enjoying the silence, or walking outside, seeing leaves, colors, and birds, nature is a massive inspiration. The stillness and the quietness allow me to feel in tune and grounded with myself. This area really inspires me to work and create.

Opera cape silk taffeta, “Glyndebourne.”

Which designers have inspired you?

Madame Grès in Paris was amazing with all her draping, and Madame Madeleine Vionnet who was also a bias-cut queen. I also love Chanel, Dior, and Les Soeurs Callot, who made beautiful beadwork. Elsa Schiaparelli’s surrealism is incredible. I want to do more of that. I love the 1930s; dresses were real dresses, so elegant. I am also a bit of a bias-cut queen as well as a dumpster queen. That era is timeless; you can wear that style of dress, no matter your age; there was something about that period. The cut is so interesting. You don’t need zippers; it is all about the fit and the fabric. Vivienne Westwood was also in my bones. I wore these shoes in college in Paris for years. 

How do you maintain focus and motivation doing a long-term project?

It takes months to bead a top. I get lost in the pattern, and then sometimes I make a mistake, which turns into a pretty mistake – I love good accidents. I love the disorder within the order of making. So if there are specific challenges and there’s a ripple here and you can’t quite figure out how you can shift the fabric correctly, my French professor always had a saying that translates as, “you go to sleep, and in the morning it will be solved.” When I wake up in the morning I know what to do. There’s something about how the brain functions when it’s not distracted by visuals and can settle in the dark on its own; something comes to light. Even fabric, as the fabric is fluid, especially with the bias, can fall, stretch, and flow. I will arrive in the morning, and the fabric has taken on the body shape by itself, it is amazing. 

Have you ever taught design, and do you have a teaching approach that you could share?

I have had students study with me for internships. I teach them one-on-one. Sometimes, when a student comes in, I can see from how they hold the needle that their skill is innate. So, you teach them, and they fly off; it’s in their bones. Some have technical skills, and some have what we call “petites mains,” little hands, and they are skilled at embroidery. Each person has their mastery, in which they excel. I can see that finesse in them, some people are better at tailoring, others are better at geometrics with all the rulers and the fabric cutting. It is a vast spectrum; you need to find your unique skill, and sometimes you can be good at all of it. But you must exercise your skill, practice daily, go back into history to see how other people did it, and create according to your vision. There is so much expertise out there; I do not want it forgotten. We are losing skill sets. 

Fashion changes, but do you think that clothing has changed? Are people dressing down more or still dressing up?

People dress down; it’s a shame because when we grew up, you and I would buy two or three beautiful pieces per year which we may still have. Today, the young do not have that concept of buying for longevity; the culture is a bit more throwaway. 

I wish we had more quality; fabrics have changed. I don’t know if it is manufacturing, but I do know that fabric is thinner, and a lot of clothing has elastic embedded in it, which is easy to wear but disintegrates quickly. If you buy a good quality item, it lasts a lifetime. I only work with the best wool and silks for my jackets and tailored items, which are expensive – quality versus quantity.

Red double satin silk crepe, mother of the bride, 2024

You have upcycled your work and used found objects in your series. Would you like to discuss the environmental aspect?

Well, I love that. I love embroidered pieces that return to the petite mains skill. So many beautiful table linens are lost in a drawer because people don’t use them anymore. Maybe your great-grandmother made a piece, or it was a wedding gift to your parents. 

So I might use these table linens to make a kimono, a pair of shorts, a rara skirt, or a little throw that you can sleep in. The quality of the fabric is fantastic and soft, often over 100 years old. I once made a bridal dress from the grandmother’s linens for her granddaughter. They’re stunning, and the quality is strong. Clients will bring in their family linens, and I will make the dress out of them, which is a great way to keep a memory of someone alive as well as to recycle.

Is there a collaboration you would love to do with a designer, or is there a dream project that you haven’t made yet that you want to do?

I would like to build six or seven dresses, all white or cream, and I wouldn’t mind just painting them and making them fun, they would be my fantasy. In the past, I have used a painting from my grandmother’s house of the Munstead Wood. I had it screen-printed onto silk and used that as a lining for clothing and jackets.  Again, it brings a narrative to the work. I want to do that again with multiple white dresses as a series.  

If you could borrow or steal any piece of couture in the world, what would it be?

I would like the Elsa Schiaparelli piece. It’s a beautiful coat with a face and a pair of lips on the back, which touches on surrealism and fantasy. What fun it would be to wear it!

As I leave Rowena Gill’s studio, the tall, black-leather Vivienne Westwood shoes come to my mind. I wonder if Gill was wearing those shoes on the night that her Parisian dumpster dive opened a new world for her. Can the energy of another designer shift into each of us in our quest for inspiration or joy? Similarly, how amazing an outfit can make us feel when we step into a room or out to a party.

To find out more about Rowena Gill’s work go to her website, rowenagillcouture.com, or Instagram, @rgcourturedress.