THE SIX-TIME EMMY WINNER BREAKS DOWN HOW SHE CREATED THE FANTASTIC FASHIONS OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS
Interview by Robert Wilonsky
One doesn’t need to know anything about fashion or fantasy to know that Michele Clapton’s designs for Game of Thrones are closer to couture than costume. Her pieces look as though they were meant to be worn to the Met Gala, judged with nodding approval by Anna Wintour as they strut down runways, adored and imitated. From the moment they arrived at Heritage to be photographed for their star turns in Game of Thrones: The Auction, each piece attracted lingering stares. These clothes were made to be worn amid the grit and grime of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet they shine still, as much works of art as anything Heritage has ever offered at auction.
Michele Clapton’s designs for ‘Game of Thrones’ include eye-catching creations such as Cersei Lannister’s red velvet dress from Season 8 and Olenna Tyrell’s gold floral ensemble from Season 4.
Clapton, a winner of multiple Emmy Awards for Outstanding Costumes for a Series, has long been hailed, and rightly so, as a visionary for her work on Game of Thrones. She has awards and acclaim to last a lifetime just for this series, not to mention her work on The Crown and an impressive roster of films. She spent a decade on Game of Thrones, turning a Tower of Babel’s worth of influences – ancient Greece and Rome, Japan, Iran, Native American, and on and on – into a singular, striking body of work.
With her costumes about to find new homes during Heritage’s October 10-12 auction of more than 2,000 Game of Thrones items, Clapton talked about how they were made and what it’s like to see her creations scattered to the wind. Not surprisingly, she’s very, very good with it. Because these pieces demand to be seen – displayed, likely, but maybe worn, too.
A handful of Clapton’s ‘Game of Thrones’ costumes on display in Heritage’s New York office. Photo by Josh David Jordan.
How do you feel about seeing these costumes head to auction?
The costumes are like my children, and it’s quite heartwarming when you see them have another life. You design things for a TV show, and that’s the extent of their life: They get put in boxes, stored away. But I feel very fortunate that the costumes have an afterlife. People copy them; they’re inspired by them. It gives longevity to them. I don’t think about it often, but it was a big part of my life – 10 years! So, yeah, I find it’s rather comforting to know they carry on, they’re still loved, still talked about.
To that point about people copying these works, being inspired by them, I was always amazed to see these pieces show up in fashion magazines, where you’d be interviewed about them as though they were pieces in a new fall collection.
You’re telling a story about characters, and if you dress them exactly how they would have dressed, it wouldn’t engage with the audience. There’s always an eye toward the contemporary, even if something is historical or fantastical. Fashion influences TV, and TV influences fashion. There are definite links. If a show is big and draws an audience, you will definitely see it in the next season; there will be an impact on fashion as it moves into the mainstream.
You simply have no idea how the costumes will be received and what longevity they will have. Game of Thrones was such a success that even today I am still talking about it, which is incredible. That’s not always the case. Sometimes you’re working on something and thinking: This is amazing. Then, nothing happens. [Laughs]
Bran Stark’s five-piece ensemble (left) and Hodor’s olive tunic (right), both from Season 3. Photo by Josh David Jordan.
These costumes defined these characters as much as their dialogue. Their clothes evolved with them – changed shape and color with every plot turn, every season. Obviously, that’s intentional. But talk me through that process.
I suppose now with TV, people rewatch it so often that it maintains its place in society long after than if it were a film. Early on it became clear this was a huge series with so much substance: It’s based on books with maps, with a rich history there. It’s like looking back at a historic document because it’s so thorough in its creation of this world, and people lose themselves in it. Though the books are quite different in their descriptions of the costumes, it almost transcends that in the end, because these costumes are how people see these characters.
So, then, how do you approach it?
[Production designer] Gemma [Jackson] and I worked so well together and decided everything had to make sense. We were also given the creative license and room to do that, which I am so thankful for. It was wonderful to be given that chance to do something quite different. I think it was really important for it to feel real and feel like these were people actually living their lives in this place and that you could understand why it was that color and that cut. We wanted to be thorough about it, and that underpinning enabled people to see it as a research document and take from it. It wasn’t an accident. There was depth to the reasoning.
Daenerys Targaryen’s first costume from Season 1 and her death ensemble from Season 8
So, let’s take a specific character, then – Daenerys Targaryen, say, whose wardrobe began as soft, airy, rose-colored, then transitioned toward the dark, heavy and militaristic toward the series’ final seasons. How far in advance did you know the characters’ story arcs, and were you always aware that these clothes would change as the characters evolved?
I’ve often thought about that. I didn’t really know sometimes where they would take the script. But particularly with Daenerys, her wardrobe had a natural design it followed, which I didn’t sometimes know where it was going but it just made sense. I didn’t know the whole story, but it seemed to fit perfectly into the journey. I didn’t know the whole story because it did move away from the books, which haven’t been finished.
Did you ever find that the design would or could impact the writing?
I would get an idea at the end of each season what might happen in the next. Her story, the design of her costumes, almost moved seamlessly so she almost looked like her brother at the series’ start because of the costumes’ coloring. But I didn’t know the shape of her brother’s costume would influence the shape of hers at the end. Sometimes they almost have a life of their own.
Jaime Lannister’s 12-piece Kingsguard armor set from Season 4
I’m always fascinated by the costume designer who has to do more than simply dress an actor, but whose costumes have to do so much of the heavy lifting. You can tell immediately who these people are based on what they wear, which I would think is a significant responsibility.
The costumes must tell stories that negate the actors having to do so. It would take 100 words to say something one item could say. That is quite inspiring and fun to do. I know this is happening and why she’s doing it and how she’s feeling it. Words might not be able to describe it, but the costume has. That’s the exciting part – the clothes are the window into this character, and that’s fulfilling. When I am working on something, it’s my job to think of the bigger picture. There’s something about getting lost in these characters.
Is that overwhelming?
It is when you start. The idea is to understand the scope of the story and go right into it and think about the characters and their aspirations and design. If the story and the writing are strong, you can’t fail if you use that as an approach and don’t listen to the noise. If you do, you can lose your thread.
We haven’t even discussed where the actors come into this equation – the people who have to carry these clothes, who use them as inspiration as much as the words. Alan Alda once told me he didn’t become Hawkeye on M*A*S*H until he stepped in those combat boots and slipped on those dog tags – all of which belonged to actual soldiers. “It’s a mysterious thing,” he said, “but it makes you feel more at home in the character.”
It’s important to listen to their interpretations of the characters. Sometimes they come with a little nugget of insight, and you develop together. Aidan Gillen, who played Littlefinger, brought such a sense of precision to the tiniest details, which is great because his costume is plain, but there was something about this neck clasp that became a key to this character, who was so ambitious. Later we came up with having this beautifully printed image in this plain coat, not that you really saw it – you might get a flash – but a lot of his costume was so internalized. It becomes a part of that character: He knows something you don’t.
Pedro Pascal brought such a life to his character and worked closely on his things so that they should move. But over time, all of these actors knew their characters and started to inhabit them, and they either trusted me to move forward or came with lots of thoughts about where they should go. And then there was Diana Rigg, who said, “Darling, I should be wearing a wimple because I don’t want to spend hours in hair.” That’s why she’s the only one in a wimple. And it was gigantic.
Jon Snow’s frozen lake ensemble from Season 7
I’d always heard that Kit Harington didn’t love the weight of his wardrobe. But the truth is, if the costumes are too light, the characters don’t move the way they should onscreen.
If a costume is weightless, that changes the gait, the movement, and I don’t believe it anymore. Kit’s coat did get heavier because of the weight of his responsibilities. I wanted to move him from this thin cape of the young boy to the weight of what happens when he goes north, into the cold. There were also actors who said they wanted to wear metal armor because it felt more real to them. Others did not feel the same. [Laughs]
So now that these costumes are about to enter the world, would you love for people to actually wear them?
I don’t know, actually. I hadn’t thought of that. They can all go off and have their great lives.
This interview was condensed and edited for clarity.
ROBERT WILONSKY is a staff writer at Intelligent Collector.