Sir Paul Smith, widely regarded as the doyen of British fashion, was spotted recently in his central London office brandishing two large rubber chickens, squeezing them with evident gusto. Rather than a bizarre prank, the chickens represent a pivotal business strategy: Smith says they were key to his success in Japan after he first began working there in 1982.
“I’ve been working in Japan since 1982. And when I first went there, there was one person who spoke schoolboy English. So it was very much about communicating through gesture, drawings, but also humour,” Smith explained.
Those squeaky poultry broke the ice at four o’clock in the afternoon during long meetings, sending colleagues into fits of laughter. Nearly half a century later, Japan hosts more than 20 Paul Smith stores, part of a global empire spanning 50 countries.
The revelation comes as Smith invites BBC News to spend an afternoon discussing his new autobiography, Threads: My Life in Style, released on 10 September. Inside his office — jokingly dubbed his “minimalist executive suite” — stacks of gifts and curiosities collected over decades line every surface. Among them sits a plastic goose plastered with stamps, sent by an American fan who includes their address but no note. “For about 45 years, I’ve been receiving interesting things from a fan in America, and this is one of the latest ones,” he said, continuing the plastic poultry theme.
Every morning after his 05:30 swim, Smith writes thank-you postcards to anyone who has included an address. “Good manners is really important in business, especially for longevity,” he reflected.
Smith’s entry into fashion was anything but planned. His ambition to become a professional cyclist was shattered by a crash at age 17. He opened his first shop — a windowless store in Nottingham — in 1970. “The first day I took £38, and my dear lovely wife bought most of it just to please me,” he recalled of that opening day.
Turning 80 prompted him to write the book, partly to pass advice to aspiring designers who often arrive expecting overnight success. “I get so many students here, they think, ‘I need a fashion show, two shops, a million pounds and everything’. But if you’re patient, you can grow slowly and carefully. And that’s what I did,” he said.
More than five decades on, the brand is synonymous with Smith’s signature colourful stripes and colourful twists on traditional British tailoring. The stripes first appeared in his spring 1992 range, born from simple thread experiments. “Eventually you think, oh, how many more combinations of a stripe can I do?” he admitted before adding, “But so far so good.”
The book also features serious A-list name-dropping. Footballer George Best, once missing while supposed to be playing for Manchester United, frequently stayed in Smith’s spare bedroom. The pair met in the early 1970s when Best had a children’s clothing line and Smith worked for the company designing them. “George famously used to get quite stressed out because he was the first superstar footballer and there was a lot of so-called friends that weren’t really friends,” Smith said. On Fridays, Smith would be sent in the company’s Rolls-Royce to collect Best and take him to the flat for the weekend. “And I don’t know anything about football, so we got on really like a house on fire. He said to me, ‘Nobody’s ever talked to me like this’. We used to have fish and chips.”
Music also features heavily — from Paul McCartney making him a cheese sandwich after a soundcheck at the Hammersmith Apollo, to a friendship with David Bowie starting in the 1980s. “He was very inquisitive. He used to call me Smithy. He used to say, ‘Smithy, why have you got that book? What’s that there?’ He was a very curious man,” Smith remembered. The relationship came full circle when Smith was commissioned to design a T-shirt for Bowie’s final album, Black Star. “I had a hint he was ill because he was in Switzerland a lot,” he revealed.
Those who heard Smith on Desert Island Discs in 1992 may be surprised he authored a book at all. Asked to pick a book, he told presenter Sue Lawley: “I have to admit that I’m not a reader at all, because I’ve got this very, very busy mind and it just leaps around all the time and I just can’t hold a book for any length of time.” He chose the 1974 Beano Annual for its “16 pages of Roger the Dodger”.
In Threads, Smith explains he is dyslexic, a condition undiagnosed throughout his school days. “It hasn’t impacted me at all. I just can’t read very well,” he said. “So when I do talks, which I do quite a lot, I just do it out of my head and hope it sounds all right.”
Before concluding the visit, Smith gave a tour of his art wall wrapping the main staircase — framed pictures, mementos, newspaper cuttings and photos spanning his entire life — before emerging onto a rooftop garden. The pair then walked to the Paul Smith flagship store on Floral Street, where Smith still works the floor a few hours each week. “They always claim I’m the best salesman,” he laughed. “I have a knowledge about the product, because I designed it, and so I can talk about it.”
Customers gradually realised they were speaking to the man himself, with reactions ranging from “I’ve been shopping here since the 1980s” to “I love your glasses” and, amusingly, “at least I know you are real and not AI.”
The visit ended where it began — with a gift. Smith unwrapped a specially chosen present: a copy of the 1974 Beano Annual, his original Desert Island Discs choice. “I haven’t got it,” he beamed. “I mean that’s class. Brilliant.”
Sir Paul Smith said goodbye and headed back towards his HQ, walking through the sunny streets of Covent Garden with a Beano annual tucked under his arm — a fashion icon who knows all about fun.
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