The Guardian Unlimited – Friday 4th February, 2000

Attention, film and fashion fans: the inimitable silk and tweed number worn by Richard E Grant in Withnail And I is about to go under the hammer. Susannah Barron meets its maker.

As iconic screen garments go, it’s right up there with Dorothy’s ruby slippers. The Withnail coat – a long, sweeping, heathery-hued number made from soft Harris tweed – has become imbued with all the cult appeal of the film in which it appeared, Bruce Robinson’s 1987 comedy Withnail And I.

Set in the 60s, it follows the antics of two out-of-work actors who decide to take a country break. Thirteen years on, it still has legions of fans around the world, who like nothing better than to settle down with a big spliff and recite, word for word, the “fine wine and cakes” bit.

On Monday, movie buffs have the chance to bid for the original Withnail coat, as worn with such stylish nonchalance by Richard E Grant. It is coming under the hammer, along with other Withnail memorabilia, to help raise money for the Waterford School in Swaziland. Back in the 70s, Grant attended this multi-racial school for gifted children, along with Nelson Mandela’s daughters, and he has organised the auction to follow a celebrity screening of the film.

The coat was the creation of costume designer Andrea Galer, who wanted it to look as though it had come from the family attic. She based it on a 19th-century riding coat, to allow Grant ease of movement as he gallivanted around the countryside. “When shooting fish, he had to be able to tie it up,” she explains. “Or in the scene where he rubs in Deep Heat, he had to push the sleeves up and make it look like an entirely usual activity.”

The result, in tweed lined with striped Indian silk dupion (“Some hippie friend had decided to give it a lift into the 60s”) is suitably louche. “Withnail needed to look decadent,” Galer says. “It’s a coat that has a life.”

Over the years, she has fielded countless requests from Withnail fans who want to buy a replica. A couple of years ago, she produced a limited edition Withnail coat to mark the 10th anniversary of the film; today, you can buy a replica for the relatively bargain price of £295.

Fashion and film have long been linked, but Galer pushes the relationship to its logical conclusion. A fashion, bridalwear and costume designer, she develops her film clothes into full-on fashion collections then made available to the public. Until a year ago, she had a shop in London’s Belsize Park. “It drove me nuts,” she admits. Having all her samples stolen 18 months ago didn’t help: “It was very traumatic.”

These days, she takes the modern approach of putting her collections on the web. “I can’t understand why I didn’t do it earlier,” she enthuses, genuinely excited about the creative opportunities. “You can have moving images, something to art-direct.”

Log on (www.andreagaler.co.uk) and you will find clothing inspired by Withnail, plus bridal and eveningwear from more recent film projects: Channel 4’s Cinderella, shown on New Year’s Day and starring Kathleen Turner, for which Galer created a look based on 50s couture; the new film version of Mansfield Park, which premiered at the London Film Festival and opens here next month; and the 1998 period drama Firelight.

As well as the film collections, Galer produces women’s suits and eveningwear. Based on corsetry and traditional tailoring, her look translates well into film: a model of cross-fertilisation, Galer’s contemporary clothing influences her costume, which in turn has an impact on her main collections. Look at the rails of clothes in her Belsize Park studio and you can see how it works. A curvy bridal jacket, made up in a different fabric, shortened and tweaked, fits right into the world of Jane Austen. A raspberry empire-line dress, also designed for Mansfield Park, wouldn’t look out of place in a ballroom today. “That’s a dress for now,” Galer says, pointing at it with some satisfaction.

When designing the costumes for something like Mansfield Park, she will research a period thoroughly, then alter the look slightly to appeal to the modern eye. A slip dress, for example, will be cut on the bias and slimmed down at the sides for a more contemporary look – in Jane Austen’s day, women wanted to look slightly rounder than they do now.

“I’m sure that in a few years’ time, you will be able to look back and see when a dress was made,” Galer acknowledges. But, as she says: “Stars want to look attractive. Everything looks better if it flatters somebody.”

Throughout her career, Galer has fused fashion and costume. She started out making theatrical outfits, which led to her dressing the likes of Julie Christie, as well as various pop stars of the 70s. It was through Christie that she received her first film commission, designing the costumes for Nicolas Roeg’s 1973 movie Don’t Look Now. After taking 10 years out to have children, Galer returned in the mid-80s, clothing the likes of Paul Young and Dire Straits for their videos.

Then, of course, came Withnail. “It’s a bit like the Rocky Horror Show,” Galer says, reflecting on its enduring appeal. “I still find it funny.”

She already has her own outfit planned for Monday night’s auction. She will be wearing a tailored coat from Savile Row, a Withnail scarf, a pair of jodhpurs from Cinderella and a shirt from Mansfield Park. Film and fashion don’t get much more intertwined than that.