Costume designer Colleen Morris-Glennon gets her ideas from everywhere — tree bark textures, fish coloration, bird feathers, even traveling. Images c/o Morris-Glennon.

It’s Jamaica in the ’70s: think Bob Marley and Grace Jones, the blues of the Caribbean Sea and mountains, and the first-ever James Bond film that was recently shot on the island. It is here where costume and fashion designer Colleen Morris-Glennon grew up and found her calling, surrounded by an elusive creative energy and the unmistakable clicking sounds of her family’s sewing machine. So when her mother taught her how to make her first garment, it was only natural that it would be the first of many Colleen Morris-Glennon styles to follow. But she never expected them to end up on the big screens.

It started when she dressed “The Queen of Disco” Donna Summer in her early twenties. Next came Law and Order: Criminal Intent. And then it was her father crying at her name on the playbill for Rent when Morris-Glennon knew things were getting serious. Today, her work includes the costume designs for titles like Industry, Hijack, Bolden, and The Unexpected, as well as iconic looks for London Fashion Week, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and more.

Here at this summit, Morris-Glennon shares how she got to where she is today, including the unexpected color combinations, fabrics, and looks that she chooses for her stories; what it took to pull off season 2 of Industry under very tight constraints; and why the world needs creativity to inspire joy.

For most of us, the pandemic meant a little more online shopping than usual. For Morris-Glennon designing the costumes for *Industry*, it meant *a lot more online shopping.*

Idris Elba always looks good. But in that Zegna Chore jacket for *Hijack*? I mean, c’mon…

Today, you live in London and New York and work as a fashion and costume designer for titles like Industry, Hijack, and Rent, to name a few. How did you get to where you are now?

When I graduated from fashion school, there was a bad recession in England, so I couldn’t get much fashion work. I went with my mom to America and ended up meeting and dancing with a guy at a nightclub who introduced me to production design for brands. This is the thing I love about New York — everyone introduces you to new faces. The first place I worked was for Giorgio Armani and Armani Exchange. Then, someone introduced me to MTV, and they decided that I should be a stylist. I had no idea what that was, but I fell into styling for television and film, and I loved it. By the off-chance, a fellow stylist at MTV randomly mentioned me to the original designer for Rent, who was looking for someone to help with the move to Broadway. They needed to make sure the costumes that they used off-Broadway could translate to Broadway because normal clothes and theater costumes are very different — the actors wear the same costume eight times a week, so they have to be constructed in a very different way than regular clothing. So I fell into theater, constructing costumes, and then fell into television and film, starting with Law and Order: Criminal Intent. And for many years, I worked as a tailor, which was my first love, anyway. It took many years to begin assistant designing, and then finally came full circle to becoming a designer.

Take us behind the scenes working on the set of Industry. What was it like to be working on a show under the constraints of the pandemic?

We started season 2 of Industry when lockdowns were being lifted. We all realized, after a long period of not being able to work, just how lucky we are to have our jobs and be in the creative industry. So I didn’t really feel constrained by it; I think we simply needed to find a different way of working. At that time, we were in Cardiff, so there were very few stores open, and high fashion wasn't the name of the game, so you literally had to find a new way of working. That was the first time I remember ever being on a show where we did so much online shopping. We also were able to go to a place here called Bicester Village, which had very high-end designer outlets. And, you know, our budget was quite small, so we had to be creative with that anyway. In a way, it kind of worked with us to have these constraints, because we realized we had to be very particular and intentional with the way we wanted to design each character.

With fashion, it’s a lonely journey, Morris-Glennon told us. With costumes, it’s asking your actors to get naked right from the very first time you introduce yourself.

Part of the Spring/Summer ‘19 line by Morris-Glennon.

Where do you get your ideas?

I have the privilege of living in New York and London, so I get to travel a lot. I like to be out and look at people and what they wear. So I’m a very big people watcher. And I love to steal a lot of color combinations from nature. Take fish or birds. Their color combinations are something you’d never think would work, but when you see it, it’s quite magical.

What’s the process like in dressing and designing a character? What are the things you look for in the script, story, or character that inform the creative process?

I like to work very closely with the production design team to know what the set will look like because otherwise, my costumes might clash with the colors of the walls and the furniture. My story needs to translate. Second, when I do fittings, I like to show the producer and directors at least three different looks so that the team can make their own choice. The good thing about design is that you’re already happy with all of the options you’re presenting because you designed them.

Sometimes it’s quite interesting, because your vision of a character from a script may not be exactly the same as the producer’s, or the director’s, or even the writer’s. So I think my job as a designer is to find a way of making sure everyone's view of that character meshes; to make sure the actors, the directors, and the other creatives in the room all agree. And then I always like to define my characters by colors, tones, and fabrics. Sometimes the look of the show will change, or the look of the character will change, but there has to be something within your design of a character that stays the same but still tells a story. If it’s a character of this day and age, they’re like us with fashion — they have so many choices. We were more restricted in the 1900s in the way we dressed. So unless the director wants to modernize the look of the period, it generally stays true to the times. But in contemporary costumes, we can take more liberties.

When you’re sitting around that table with the producers and the cast, how do you know when to choose to fight for your original vision, and when to compromise and find a new costume for the character together? Is there ever a time when you really push back on the feedback you’re receiving?

Yeah, sometimes you have to, if you feel pretty sure that what they really want and what they’re telling you they want are two different things. Of course, it can be very hard to have a conversation like that without seeming like you’re pushing them in a certain direction. When I did Hijack, they originally wanted Idris Elba’s character to be wearing a suit. But when I first read the script, my initial impression of his character was that he’d be dressed quite casually. You know, he’s quite a wealthy man, well-to-do, and takes himself very seriously. So I knew in my heart that he shouldn’t be in a suit — it would have restricted his movements on the plane, and also, it was Idris Elba. He’s got such an amazing, beautiful way of moving. For his character in Luther, being restricted in a suit was perfect, but for Hijack, his character needed to be more fluid. So, as a compromise, we dressed him both ways. First, we fit Elba in some suits, and then we fit him the way that I felt his character should look. Elba ultimately agreed with my vision of the character. So yes, I think you should always try to find a compromise, but also fight for your vision.

What’s the biggest challenge you face in your line of work, and how do you navigate it?

The biggest challenge in designing is to make sure everyone feels like they were a part of the journey to getting that costume right — be it the actor, the director, the producer, or whomever. I always have huge empathy for actors, in particular, because you come into a room with a bunch of people you have most likely never met before, and you basically have to get naked in front of them, and that’s a very vulnerable position to be in. I mean it, I wouldn’t do it. So I think the job of a costume designer is not just to design a character, but to make sure your actor is happy. I like to be a protector of my cast; my crew. You're literally a bunch of strangers coming together to do a project. As they say, you know, a fish rots from the head down if you don't have a wonderful production team to collaborate with.

You grew up in Jamaica, surrounded by creative people both near and far. How did that influence your career path?

I was born in England but my family moved to Jamaica in the ’70s, before it became so divided because of politics, and it was an incredibly creative time. I lived near the beach, with the blue of the Caribbean Sea, and from my house, I could see the beautiful blue mountains. I was young enough to only really see the good in life and to enjoy being a kid, a free kid, running around outside all hours of the day and night during the summer holidays. We had iconic artists Grace Jones and Bob Marley, and their distinct styles really influenced my love of the arts. I remember watching West Side Story one day and admiring the movement of the costumes on the actors. That was all Irene Sharaff. And I wanted to have that same knowledge about how clothes move and how they change in light.

Next up, the reimagining of *Bodyguard: The Musical* for the Ljubljana Festival.

Was it a conventional career choice, then, to become a designer like you did?

Many members of my family were tailors and dressmakers, and my greatest influence was my mom, who is an amazing dressmaker and who showed me what it takes to construct a garment. She would always tell me to finish what I start — if it’s difficult, find a way around it, or through it, but do it and do it well. So it was such a natural part of my being to be around fabrics, making and constructing things with sewing machines.

But my dad was definitely not happy with me going to art school. He had this idea that I would become a starving artist. You know, he came from Jamaica to England and found it very hard as a creative person of color. There was no outlet for him in the ’60s and ’70s to see that through. So his hesitation came from a fear that I wouldn’t succeed, or worse, that I would be disappointed like he was. He wanted to save me that pain and encouraged me to get a “real job,” as he would call it. Honestly, that was a point of contention between him and my mother. She tried to show him that I’d be able to make a living no matter what, because I was learning the basics, like how to sew. But for him, it took seeing my name on the playbill of Rent to see that my dreams could be a reality.

What have you learned about yourself and creativity from working in the TV and film industry for more than 20 years?

I used to think when I was younger that the job wasn’t very important. I mean, my husband is a retired firefighter, so when you live with someone who actually saves lives for a living, it can be more difficult to see your own impact as a creative as meaningful.

During the pandemic, I realized our work does matter. It changes lives. I received a letter from a nurse during the pandemic, who came home and put on some television to try to forget about the day she had. She found the first film I designed, Bolden!, which is based on Buddy Bolden, who is said to have invented jazz. She told me she loved my costumes in the film and she thanked me for creating something that could take her mind off of her work and lose herself in the film. That’s the kind of thing that I love about my job. What I do for a living brings joy.

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