Daniel Day Lewis is too cool
https://www.wmagazine.com/story/exclusive-daniel-day-lewis-giving-up-acting-phantom-thread
To get into the mind-set of Reynolds Woodcock, Day-Lewis not only learned the couturier’s trade but also meticulously invented every aspect of Woodcock’s personal wardrobe, from the wool and cashmere fabrics he selected from Savile Row tailor Anderson & Sheppard to the bishop purple socks he ordered from an ecclesiastical shop in Rome to the shoes he had custom made at George Cleverley, in London, which, Day-Lewis said, “has the allure of being slightly less well known than John Lobb.” He also considered Woodcock’s surroundings-how his house should be decorated, the pens and sketch pads he used, the items on his nightstand. Even his dogs: “I wanted lurchers,” Day-Lewis said. “I gave so much thought to every single detail. I was probably infuriating.”
A few days later, Day-Lewis arrived at the W photo shoot with a small duffel bag full of his own clothes. He is uncomfortable having his photo taken-he doesn’t like to be in front of a camera when he is not playing a character. More specifically, he rejects the notion of artifice. Day-Lewis refuses to be “dressed,” and for our session he wore only the things he had brought with him. His wardrobe is eclectic and carefully chosen-ranging from a three-piece plaid Harris Tweed suit made by a tailor in New York to well-worn dark blue Aran sweaters knit by women in a remote part of Scotland to a pair of work boots that he designed himself. The common themes are craftsmanship, utility, and uniqueness: Day-Lewis is not one to purchase anything trendy or frivolous. Each piece is precious.
To get into the mind-set of Reynolds Woodcock, Day-Lewis not only learned the couturier’s trade but also meticulously invented every aspect of Woodcock’s personal wardrobe, from the wool and cashmere fabrics he selected from Savile Row tailor Anderson & Sheppard to the bishop purple socks he ordered from an ecclesiastical shop in Rome to the shoes he had custom made at George Cleverley, in London, which, Day-Lewis said, “has the allure of being slightly less well known than John Lobb.” He also considered Woodcock’s surroundings-how his house should be decorated, the pens and sketch pads he used, the items on his nightstand. Even his dogs: “I wanted lurchers,” Day-Lewis said. “I gave so much thought to every single detail. I was probably infuriating.”
A few days later, Day-Lewis arrived at the W photo shoot with a small duffel bag full of his own clothes. He is uncomfortable having his photo taken-he doesn’t like to be in front of a camera when he is not playing a character. More specifically, he rejects the notion of artifice. Day-Lewis refuses to be “dressed,” and for our session he wore only the things he had brought with him. His wardrobe is eclectic and carefully chosen-ranging from a three-piece plaid Harris Tweed suit made by a tailor in New York to well-worn dark blue Aran sweaters knit by women in a remote part of Scotland to a pair of work boots that he designed himself. The common themes are craftsmanship, utility, and uniqueness: Day-Lewis is not one to purchase anything trendy or frivolous. Each piece is precious.