Above: Tim Groen: Jan Taminiau, Amsterdam, 2010.

Vogue Italia featured items from his collection on a recent cover. Maxima, Crown Princess of the Netherlands, wears his designs. Calls are coming in from Dallas to Tokyo.
I’m referring to Jan Taminiau, designer of super feminine, belabored dresses, who dislikes being called a couturier: “It sounds so crusty, as if you’re talking about the last century.” Jan lives and works in an entire —and entirely beautiful—17th century building smack in the middle of the Red Light District, the oldest part of Amsterdam. A peek into his atelier reveals six seamstresses bent over elaborate embroideries laid out on big tables. There’s a flurry of activity on the premises; the designer is preparing for his annual Paris Couture Week presentation. And to satisfy those enquiring callers, he is adding a demi-couture line, shortening the wait. “Practical” and “affordable” reign supreme in Amsterdam, but nonetheless, Jan Taminiau is a busy man.

TG: International attention and clients aside, do you think that the fact that you’re doing well is an indication of a departure from the Dutch no-nonsense mentality?
JT: I do. When big department stores were introduced in Holland in the early twentieth century, whatever was here in terms of a textile industry was tossed out the window. The upside of these stores was, supposedly, that fashion was within everybody’s reach. Which is great in theory, but it was a revolution at the expense of beauty and quality. And not to get too deep into it, but standardized sizes make people feel funny about their bodies. If a garment fits poorly the shoppers blame themselves, rather then the cut. I don’t believe in standardization. Now, if people would just take that off-the-rack stuff to a tailor, the world would look a lot better!
So I like to zoom in on someone’s essence, and these days there are Dutch ladies who are receptive to that again.

TG: Your first collection, in the late-nineties, featured discarded mail bags from the Dutch Postal Service as a material. That’s an unusual choice for someone with your couture-like sensibilities. Was that collection based on recycling?
JT: It was more about coming across that material, and tapping into all the romantic connotations of mended fabric and hand written letters. They had served, and lived a life, and someone repaired them by hand. They faded so beautifully. Those bags could be proud of themselves.
It’s like a human face; it’s nice when it shows age and wrinkles…there’s nothing wrong with the visible evidence of having some life behind you.
But it’s not like I always re-use materials. The only thing I consistently recycle – upon request – is fur. If a client brings me her fur and asks me to make something similar, I’ll happily alter her current coat to prevent her from purchasing a new one! It’s a way of making sure that our budget will not support the fur industry.

TG: You sound like a spiritual and ethical guy. You don’t come off as someone who just wants to make pretty dresses.
JT: Well, I do want to make pretty dresses, because that’s the fun part after all! But at the same time I want to pass something along. I want women to feel great, and not feel too fat or too tall or whatever, like they do with a lot of ready-to-wear. Ideally I can make them think: “Oh, wow, I do have an ass!” Or “I still have a waistline!”
Also it’s incredibly important to me that I have a good time, and that the seamstresses and the interns and everybody else feels the same way. Of course I’m not saying it isn’t fun if it helps my bank account, but I’m not driven by a desire to be the biggest or most famous. To be that ambitious, you have to cater to this craving for accessibility; and I honestly don’t know what that really contributes to anyone’s life. If you buy a $20 dress, you don’t expect it to last forever; you’ll just replace it in no time. So it’s an endless cycle of consumption and superficiality putting pressure on our quality of life on many levels; sweatshops, pollution, and on and on. We try to stay away from that.
But all concepts and philosophies aside, in the end I simply want my dresses to be about beauty.

TG: In terms of your approach to fashion you’re kind of a lone bird here. How does it feel to be based in Amsterdam?
JT: I actually kind of like it. It doesn’t really matter where you are, as long as you have some peace and quiet to concentrate when you have to. Up to two years ago, I was based in my hometown of Tilburg (small town in the south of The Netherlands, TG). I find that Amsterdam is what you want it to be, and I’m pretty comfortable with the small town aspect of this place. The city offered me the lease of this building as part of their project to phase out the prostitutes in the beautiful Red Light District, by replacing them with fashion companies. So if it wasn’t for some hookers calling it quits, I might still be in Tilburg!

Links:
>Jan’s own site: jantaminiau.com
>A small selection of the Fall 2010 Haute Couture presentation. This is what Jan was working on when we spoke.
>Jan’s shoes on the cover of Vogue Italia
>More about the RedLight Fashion initiaive, which helped Jan, and many other Dutch designers, find a space in Amterdam’s Red Light District.