Issue link: http://digital.copcomm.com/i/1124767
32 The Costume Designer Spring 2019 32 The Costume Designer Winter 2018 I am very thrilled and honored to be receiving this award tonight. The very fact that I have this career is a miracle. When I was starting out in this business in the late '90s it wasn't easy for me. I was told not to follow my instinct, to be some- one else. I was too weird, too unusual. My mannerisms and my voice were mocked by executives in notes meetings, which I always thought was weird because in meetings I am capable of speaking very deeply. It was painful to be discriminated against, not liked because of what I wanted to do which was very simple: see myself and my experience on television. Oprah Winfrey speaks very movingly about watching the Academy Awards and seeing herself and what she could pos- sibly be when Sidney Poitier won an Oscar in 1964. I never had that experience. I never saw triumphant or at the very least, complicated gay people or gay characters on television or in the movies as a child or a teenager, they were always marginal- ized punchlines at best—beaten for who they were, most of the time killed for who they were. I believe strongly in the power of television, because I believe the following: if you see your- self and some part of your human experience reflected back at yourself, you will not feel alone. And people with hatred and bias in their hearts can often be converted if a character they are invested in feels like their friend. So back to 1999 when I first started, I decided that's what I wanted to do: create representation, showcase gay peo- ple and minorities and outsiders and underdogs of all kind. And wouldn't you know it, but my very first network argument was over a costume. In Popular, I had Leslie Grossman who played Mary Cherry wearing a fur coat, as a way to sum up her ambi- tion and dreams. Costuming is pure character, after all. The network executive responded, "Change it, we don't do that on The WB." I said, "Do what?" He replied, "Wear fur coats, it's too … gay." He then asked if I could give said character "an Old Navy" makeover so she would be more "relatable." It was then that I began to clean up and pack up my office and perhaps leave the cruel world of show business forever. They asked me to please stay. I said, "The coat Lou [Eyrich] has chosen stays with me." They reluctantly agreed. And I honestly believe it's because I didn't back down from that one fight about vision and style that I am here today. Lou! I owe so much of my career to my beloved cocon- spirator Lou. My entire creative life often begins and ends with her. Quite simply, in my shows, it always starts with Costume Design, no exception. Here's a recent example of how and why that is. Lou and I are working on our new Netflix show Ratched, starring Miss Sarah Paulson. It's a period piece set in 1947, and there was only one thing I knew going in: I didn't want white nurse uniforms. I wanted something more original, more theatrical. I told Lou this, and for two months we worked on dozens of variations. Blue, then green, then seafoam. Finally, we came up with a Dorothy Draper aquamarine. With a tinge of green. That decision, was key, and everything else in the production came from that one burst of inspiration. I now felt free to move from the typical hospital show it could have become, to embrace a more daring bolder conceit in the filmmaking. The sets, makeup, hairstyles, hats, production design, even the score have been inspired by that color, that design choice. Two years ago, I made Lou a full producer on all my shows, and I feel that should be the industry standard for designers with long collaborative relationships with filmmak- ers. As my color story just illustrated, Costume Designers are the cornerstone of any production, especially mine, and they deserve the money, the prestige, and the power that comes with that. They are entitled to have their voices heard and celebrated. Many of this industry's Costumer Designers are women, and have long been made to feel that they were a part of the "lesser" crafts, the "feminized" arts, the "below the line" ladies club. I don't agree at all with this philosophy. I feel they do as much heavy lifting as any other producer, because the art of the costume is the art of the story. That's why this year when The Assassination of Gianni Versace won the Best Limited series Emmy, Lou got to walk up on that stage and snatch one of the best-of-show trophies. I am so lucky to be in the room tonight with so many art- ists I love and admire, none more than Lou. Thank you. Ryan Murphy Distinguished Collaborator Honoree Sarah Paulson, Ryan Murphy, and Lou Eyrich