“I was overwhelmed. Mrs. Vreeland kept calling me Aberdeen and asking me if a wedding dress didn’t make me want to cry. They’re all serious, hardworking people—they just speak a different language.
So I took my own models out to the beach. I photographed them barefoot, without gloves, running along the beach on stilts, playing leapfrog. When the pictures came in, Brodovitch laid them out on the table and the fashion editor said, ‘these can’t be published. These girls are barefoot.’ Brodovitch printed them. After that, I was launched very quickly. Those candid snapshots were in direct contrast to what was being done. I came in at a time when there weren’t any young photographers working in a free way. Everyone was tired, the war was over, Dior let the skirts down, and suddenly everything was fun. It was historically a marvelous moment for a fashion photographer to begin. I think if I were starting today, it would be much harder.”
Richard Avedon, 1965
‘Tim started taking pictures as a teenager, after moving to Devon with his parents and brother: “I think I was interested in pictures from the day I was born,” he says. “I always loved the illustrations in children’s books more than the stories themselves.” Photography was, and is, “a way to communicate. I could see things in my head that I wanted to express, but I didn’t know how to communicate them if they didn’t exist. It was a mood I could feel, or a mixture of a memory and an imaginary thing that I wanted to…” He trails off, fumbling for a way to phrase it. […] But the point of fashion is that you take the picture you want. And fashion is the only photography that allows fantasy, and I’m a fantasist. I love beautiful clothes – but I couldn’t give a monkey’s what’s on the catwalks.”‘ (Tim Walker, fashion photographer, and the Brit Vogue, June 2008)