The tastemakers

There are some larger-than-life people whose influence on public taste seems out of proportion to their role. Who really decides what we wear, consume, drive, listen to and hang on our walls? How did they become powerful, and is it a good thing? Fenella Willis investigates. Illustration by Adrian Valencia

While the admen are exhorting us daily to express our personality through the face creams, salads and cars that we choose, we’re inclined to believe that it’s our own innate sense of what’s great and what’s indifferent that guides our decisions. But a peek in the charity bag, where discarded ponchos and world music CDs lie forsaken, forces the painful admission that we are hostages to the contemporary arbiters of perceived good taste.

So who decides whether rocket and salsa have had their day? Who really dictates which clothes, artistes and artworks are super-chic or so-last-year? Clearly editors, TV producers, critics and DJs play their part. But there have always been a few figures who wield an iconic authority above and beyond their official remit. Think of John Peel, whose whimsical music choices launched a slew of new bands onto the airwaves; Martha Stewart, the lifestyle guru responsible for two decades of perfect American pie crusts; or David Beckham’s mercurial hairstyles, religiously copied across the globe. Kate Moss is another example. One sighting of her in a particular style is enough to send sales of that outfit rocketing and High Street fashion houses scrabbling to produce their own version—such as last year’s military jacket. So what is her secret?

Her secrecy, partly, says PR guru Jenny Halpern. “It comes down to character. Kate Moss exudes cool—she’s certainly made Burberry very cool—and, because she doesn’t talk to the press, she has a tremendous mystique about her. She also has that element of danger.” Like fellow clothes-horse Sienna Miller—Moss’s personable, pretty, girl-next-door counterpart—she has a symbiotic relationship with the fashion business.

PR companies “gift” stars their clients’ signature pieces, then alert the press and lap up the endorsement. “People have aspirations towards leaders in their field. It makes them feel they can look like a celebrity,” says Halpern. “But you’ve got to be careful not to become a slave to unsuitable styles.”

A glamorous, preferably eventful, private life helps to maintain public fascination. People this potent tend to have a non-stick reputation that can shrug off, even benefit from, the odd inconvenient investigation into their private lives—a distinction that, as Kate Moss might agree, is not to be snorted at. Domestic goddess and convicted felon Martha Stewart generated support through a Save Martha! website.

It is charisma rather than sartorial style that keeps Jeremy Clarkson in the driving seat of the car industry. “He’s such a talented presenter, whether or not you agree with his views,” says Tim Pollard, deputy editor of What Car? magazine. “A lot of women I know who wouldn’t otherwise be interested in cars really enjoy Top Gear.” The brilliance of the cult TV show, Pollard believes, is that it has turned cars into popular entertainment. “It’s the single most influential voice in the motoring industry at the moment but, because it’s entertainment, it’s looking at faster, cooler cars.”

A critic as outspoken as Clarkson can affect public opinion. “A few years ago he had a real downer on Vauxhalls,” says Pollard, “and there was a lot of worry at the time that he was damaging their sales. But so many factors are involved that it’s hard to quantify.” Does Clarkson affect what is produced? Pollard suspects not. “Premium brands are doing much better than mainstream; people want cooler things. He is part of that wider movement, it’s not all down to him.”
While Clarkson is a bona fide motoring journalist who worked his way up from local papers, some movers and shakers have impact in a field unrelated to their profession. Charles Saatchi is famed as much for his collecting of pickled shark and canned faeces as for his advertising career. While his financial support fuelled the Britart boom and sent enfants terribles such as Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst into orbit, his influence is also down to his timing and passion, according to art dealer and curator Kadee Robbins.

“Saatchi was one of the very few early players on the London art scene. In the 1990s you probably had artists working towards what he wanted, but people are more wary of him now. He could buy out your entire show, but is equally capable of putting it on the market a few years later if he becomes disenchanted with it.” Though she believes Saatchi no longer affects what is being created—“it’s a much bigger game now”—Robbins believes Saatchi has helped rejuvenate the London art world. She is unconcerned about the power of patronage: ‘There have always been big patrons: Leonardo and Michelangelo bent over backwards to cater for them.”

While it is mostly famous names influencing public tastes, the stars that count in the gastronomic firmament are those awarded by anonymous inspectors. Despite the proverbial might of the pen—restaurant critic Fay Maschler has the clout to alter the fortunes of London establishments—many chefs live for nothing but their Michelin star rating, says Annica Wainwright, restaurant reviewer for Square Meal. “Michelin is a respected organ within the industry and chefs value the inspectors’ opinions more than the public’s. Some will certainly tailor their menus around what might appeal.”

One French chef’s suicide was attributed to a rumoured downgrade, while some claim the system stifles creativity in food, resulting in unseasonal dishes with little regard to provenance. Does this concern Wainwright? “In an ideal world, a restaurant should be reviewed by several different people. Michelin can make or break a restaurant on the basis of personal taste. But they are known for being educated and knowledgeable about food, so if anyone is going to make that judgement, I suppose they should.”

Wainwright is uncertain to what extent such exclusive accolades affect mass-market tastes: “I’d say trends are more likely to be driven by gastropubs and the media. Jamie Oliver is more influential, and young chefs definitely look up to Gordon Ramsay.” But what the world’s top restaurants do does filter through to middle-market establishments.
“Take El Bulli in Catalonia. It has three Michelin stars and its chef, Ferran Adriá, is regarded as the most innovative in the world,” says Wainwright. “He is ground-breaking in the area of ‘molecular gastronomy’, which focuses on the chemistry of cooking. He tried blowing up some tomatoes with a bicycle pump and discovered it produced foam: now he uses this process in his dishes.” Adriá also experiments with ingredients like liquid nitrogen, and produces deceptive food such as melon caviar. Heston Blumenthal has pioneered the movement in the UK at his restaurant, the Fat Duck in Bray, while Tony Flinn of Anthony’s in Leeds, who has worked with Adriá, is introducing similarly inventive ideas to the possibly bewildered folk of Yorkshire. When Wainwright was at Ascot this year she was served scallops with space dust—that popping candy—on top. You have been warned.

Now would you like to see the wine list? The chances are it will owe something to American critic Robert Parker, who popularised the widely imitated 100-point wine-rating scale. His newsletter, The Wine Advocate, has brought him a large consumer following in the US and, to a lesser extent, in the UK. According to Guy Woodward, acting editor of Decanter magazine, his high scores can literally change prices by as much as 15 per cent. “He has a particular palate, which favours quite full-bodied, alcoholic, ripe-fruit wines, and those are the type he scores highly. Producers are aware of that and some say they are now making wines to suit his palate in the hope that they will reap the rewards.”

Parker, an ex-lawyer, is a fan of Bordeaux. He has raised the profile of what were previously “boutique” wines from small producers and they can now charge pretty much what they like,” says Woodward. But the danger as he sees it is that typicity (the degree to which a wine is typical of a region, and the Holy Grail of the wine trade) is compromised. “Traditional UK and European wine drinkers and critics are non-plussed. They tend to prefer Bordeaux as it was 20 or 30 years ago.”

Taste, after all, is a subjective business. When Decanter holds a wine tasting it uses up to 12 experts and averages out their marks to give a fair reflection of a wine. “It seems ridiculous that wines are considered the best in the world on the basis of one person’s taste, which doesn’t coincide with that of most European drinkers,” says Woodward. If all this leaves you anxious not to be so easily led, remember you have the power to stop it. Just throw out the TV, never open a newspaper or magazine and don’t, whatever you do, leave your house.

There are some larger-than-life people whose influence on public taste seems out of proportion to their role. Who really decides what we wear, consume, drive, listen to and hang on our walls? How did they become powerful, and is it a good thing? Fenella Willis investigates. Illustration by Adrian Valencia

How to win clout and influence people

How easy is it to become your own tastemaker? These are the first steps:

Be passionate and filled with self-belief, tenacity, ambition and charisma

Find your niche and know what you like. Have opinions
Develop a thick skin—you’ll need it

Be very, very good at what you do

Lead, or appear to lead, a glamorous  lifestyle

Work the publicity machine: own, work in or have access to a variety of media

Above all, think cool at all times