Stiletto Savant
In this town, there are statement shoes that scream Achtüng. And then there are shoes that whisper Enchanté.
In the presence of designer Jerome C. Rousseau, it doesn’t take long to figure out in which camp his genius resides. If you’ve never heard of him, or if his name currently isn’t gracing your soles for a night out, wait. It would come as no surprise if Sarah Jessica Parker's voiceover cooed his name (while the onscreen Carrie clasps her hands around a pair of Rousseau’s peep-toe booties) for the upcoming Sex and the City sequel. Indeed, the Louboutin/Choo/Blahnik echelon of designer footwear may soon have to squeeze in another player.
Rousseau is 32. He looks 22. Perhaps that's owed to his upbringing in the extremities of Northern Quebec, where sunlight skimps in winter and seasonal affective disorder perennially plagues the locals. Or it could simply be his boyish haircut.
On a recent visit to Rousseau’s Beachwood Canyon apartment-cum-design-studio (he moved to L.A. a few years ago with his boyfriend, Daniel) he was dressed in a white, button-front shirt; black wool, dropped-crotch trousers and red leather moccasins. Rousseau had just been gardening in this wholly-un-Beachwood get-up prior to the visit, and had the dirt to show for it on his sleeves.
Rousseau’s apartment is not a high altar to all-things-fashion. Instead you’ll find a tattered Cyndi Lauper poster and a gigantic bird cage housing a large, beautiful, exotic cockatoo prone to making strange, alarming sounds. “She thinks she speaks English,” Rousseau says. “But she pronounces it like jibberish. Like a child who doesn’t know what she’s saying. Sometimes she does it in a woman’s voice, followed by a lowered voice, as though she’s having a conversation.”
Theatrics, when it comes to shoe design, often boil down to cheap distraction. Rousseau’s fall collection, which retails from $495 to $1200 and is sold at Barneys New York in Beverly Hills and on Net-a-Porter.com, avoids those trappings, and it’s easy to see why. Rousseau is a humble craftsman, a design geek. He developed collections for Matthew Williamson and Jasper Conran before launching his own line last year. “I’d like to think my designs aren’t contrived. Nothing is forced,” he says. “It’s in control and powerful, yet sexy. Very French.”
Parisian in spirit, perhaps, but Hollywood has given him a leg-up. His curvy, Victorian-inspired shoes made of saturated, triple-dyed haircalf ($895) and a collared, “jacket shoe” creation ($795) have been a hit with Drew Barrymore, Charlize Theron, and Mad Men siren January Jones, who writes Rousseau personal thank-yous via postcard.
Rousseau is thankful for the celebrity attention, but not duly caught up in its trappings. In his work, he does have at least one fetish, however: toe cleavage. No, that wasn’t a misread. Rousseau cuts the top-line of most of his shoes liberally to show off the divides. “I find it very beautiful,” he says. “It’s very sexy, it’s revealing something that’s quietly provocative.” Meekly proud of his justification, he adds, “That was good, wasn’t it?” Absolutement.