According to the Chinese horoscope, once every 60 years Fire-Horses are born. They have all the attributes of a horse - strength, stamina, elegance, power - and these qualities are multiplied a hundred-fold by the element of fire. In ancient China, girls that were born under this sign were murdered because their ‘masculine’ attributes were considered a threat; some might well argue that is still the case today. Jez Eaton is a Fire-Horse.

After seeing the Trashion show at Brighton Fashion Week, we wanted to get to know the woman behind all those plastic bags and tampons. Jez came to talk to us about life, art, fashion, recycling and the importance of a sense of humour in the poker-faced fashion industry.

A striking and beautiful woman with a shock of flame red hair and intricate tattoos, Jez comes across as imposing and powerful, Amazonian even, but after spending only a few minutes in her company it becomes apparent that this woman is sensitive, penetrating and very funny. It’s this sense of humour, the ability to laugh at herself, coupled with a strong inner stability and sense of self-worth (not to be confused with arrogance) that has allowed her to navigate her way through a vastly diverse career and life. This diversity has made her into the flexible kind of Renaissance woman who can keep renewing, inventing and channelling the creative force that she inhabits.

From a young age, Jez was very much about creating a persona and was, by her own admission, ‘a bit of a weird kid’. For each chore, event or task there was a different outfit; a farmer’s hat for feeding the chickens, overalls and a headscarf for painting, long gloves with rings on for dinner time and a family that embraced the theatrical tendencies that might make some parents hold their heads in their hands.

Jez’s career began when she ran away to join the cabaret. After winning one of 25 coveted scholarships to The New York School Of Visual Arts but unable to afford the living expenses, she joined The Liquorish Allsorts, a troupe which toured all over Europe and had much success. In Germany she fell in love and stayed. One day, not long after she’d moved there, she was wandering the streets of Frankfurt wondering what she was going to do with her life when a model scout approached her. Jez didn’t want to be a model (cabaret had taught her that she was more comfortable behind the scenes) so she did what any girl would do. She lied. Said she was a make-up artist. The scout invited her to come and do make-up for the New Face’s comp. cards and Jez agreed. Luckily for Jez, it turned out that she was pretty darn good at make-up. ‘Being a good make-up artist is more than just applying make-up. You have to fall in love with the person a little bit, let them under your skin and make them glow.’

This snatched opportunity turned out to be a foot in the door to what would become a very successful career in the music industry as a make-up artist, hair stylist, set designer, prop designer and all-round Godsend to any director. Jez would be called in during artist development; ‘Before an artist is famous, they need some sort of gimmick so people recognise them. It’ll take one or two videos. I was good at drawing out the interesting part of an artist and creating a feature they were comfortable with.’ The big break came when she was doing hair and make-up for La Bouche, who wanted to know where she got her outfit. ‘I made it’ said the entirely self-taught Jez; the next thing you know, she’s designer to the stars.

However, as we all know, life throws you curveballs and one successful, glamorous career later Jez is remerging after a somewhat testing period in her life. After going through a divorce, losing everything in an investment, bearing a child by famous/infamous German artist Wolfgang Flatz, she has spent the last few years focusing on her child, her number one priority. Having moved back to Brighton, demoralised, isolated and unsure of herself and her identity, she had to start again from scratch. So she did. ‘It’s time now’ she says with brooding purpose.

The Trashion Show was originally conceived in Germany. With only a small budget for a big show, Jez decided to make all the couture out of rubbish. She thinks fashion shows are boring so she made a show that she’d like to go and see. The Trashion Show was born in this scene, except back then it was called The Redesign Show. Back then there was a budget (albeit a small one), back then there was a workshop, back then there was time, back then there were features in Vogue and Elle, commissions from Perrier, Nestle and Evian (amongst many others) and an hour long special on MTV. This time there was no budget, there were six weeks, there was a two-bedroom apartment, there were costumes hanging from the ceiling for want of space, and there was a child. This makes the achievement all the more valuable.

Coming from a position of such vulnerability - a woman, a single mother, a creative, having seen women that have no prospects of that ever changing, using materials that are sniggered at and undermined - Jez has created power, inspiration, elegance and humour. It’s her sense of humour that has supported her and she attributes a lot of her success to that, coupled with a core stability, the product of a happy and nurturing childhood. ‘People don’t laugh at fashion shows…but they should!’ She rolls her eyes.

When asked if she’s proud of her achievement, Jez does not rise at the invitation to preen; instead, she ponders for a moment, relaxes back into her chair and says, with a slightly weary air ‘It’s nice to have my identity back.’ Then the twinkle’s back in her eye. ‘It’s a very expensive way of doing it! But it’s nice. It’s important to have an identity and not just be a mum. It’s the weirdest thing…to lose it, I’d never have believed it in a million years.’ These small glimpses of vulnerability and hints at a life that has been full of those curveballs seem to represent the creative visionary beneath the mother, businesswoman and image. It’s this vulnerability that is so important for an artist to protect if their art is to flourish because it’s here that empathy is born, which allows an artist to reach an audience. Jez has managed to do something rather tricky, which is to stay soft in an industry that turns people hard.

But what of the show? What of the journey? ‘The show nearly killed me.’ She laughs at her own melodrama. ‘No, it didn’t. But I did think “Jez, you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time.” I was still sewing backstage as the show began.’

This boundless energy and positivity in the face of adversity is a recurring theme in Jez’s work and life. ‘When everyone else has given up and gone down the pub, I’m still there, and when they come back from the pub I’m still going. They’ll get up in the morning and I’m still working.’ And she’d have to be; she created the show from scratch in just six weeks. Jez is a self-proclaimed perfectionist. ‘The only way to improve is to be your own worst, no,’ she correct herself, ‘best critic. I don’t think I’ll ever become complacent and self-adoring. That’s the end of creativity.’ What a pleasure to meet an artist who recognises this, can even laugh at it and is refreshingly free of the narcissism that plagues the creative sets.

There’s an obvious angle we could take for this interview and that’s ‘Green’. Is Jez a Green warrior? Looking at the show you might think so, but the honest answer is no. She’s not on a soapbox. ‘The show should be an inspiration. I’m not making a serious statement, “This is the future!” It’s a bit of fun that should inspire people. Recycling is a serious matter that’s quite dull and we almost get lectured, but it should be uplifting and fun.’ Jez is not prepared to sacrifice style, aesthetic or tailoring for eco and it seems that the two are not, after all, mutually exclusive. ‘There are two themes where people get it completely wrong. One is Space Age and one is Recycling. It gets so whacky that it’s not wearable or well designed. I want to make recycling fashion that’s stylish, simple and wearable. Less is more. I prefer a nice silhouette or a clean design that works rather than masses of crap that’s almost monstrous. Where’s the design? Where’s the sex appeal? Where’s the elegance?’ Green clothes, in Jez’s opinion, are often frumpy and just plain ugly. She might have a point. Perhaps here lies the difference between trash and Trashion.

When asked about the creative process she goes through, where a lot of artists are a little hazy, unable to pin it down and put it into words, Jez is very articulate. ‘I imagine I’m a bird and I fly through my mind and there are little compartments of creative experience and I take a bit of that one, a bit of that one and a bit of that one and it makes something new.’ Next comes a very analytical stage, which is all done in her mind; the only time anything is drawn down is if a client needs to see it. ‘It never looks as good on paper as it does in my mind.’ She becomes an engineer and before she even picks up her materials she’s analysed each one, considered every possible weakness, eventuality and problem. By the time she comes to constructing the piece, the process is very quick because she knows exactly what to do.

Jez puts great store in the fact that she didn’t learn how to do any of what she does from a book or a professor. It has left her not believing that something can’t be done and so she always finds a way. ‘A great place of inspiration for me is somewhere like Homebase. I’ll go in and look at all the glues and tools and if I ask the guy “I need to stick that to that, how do I do it?” and he says “It can’t be done”, I’ll go away and figure out how to do it. There’s always a way.’ This is surely one of the signs of a true craftsman, knowing your materials, exploring all the options and avenues, understanding them and not allowing your creativity to be boxed in by someone who says you can’t make it work.

Trashion is just the tip of Jez’s creative portfolio, which includes headdresses, body painting, couture, sculpture, masks and photography. ‘What am I? I don’t know.’ When she first began living with Wolfgang Flatz, she was too shy to show him her work. When he finally twisted her arm he said ‘You could be a really great artist.’ But Jez didn’t want that. ‘It’s this conceptual shit, political statement, yawn! I said, “I’m not interested.” I don’t like that masturbatory, “aren’t we so brilliant and intellectual…” I don’t like that. I like stuff that’s easily understood, stuff that’s accessible for everybody and I don’t like taking myself too seriously. But the fact that Flatz likes my stuff means a lot.’

So, what’s next? ‘Well, this week I’m making one of those photo booth things you put your face through on the pier for my son’s school fair. I’ll get as much enjoyment out of that as I got out of the show. I’ve had the glamour, I’ve had the career, I’ve shagged the rock stars…you know? And of course it’s nice when I do something and people go “Bloody Hell! I didn’t know you could do that!” But I don’t need it any more. That’s quite freeing.’

So, while Jez will continue with Trashion commissions for the likes of Miss World and is keen to work with more wearable Trashion, like the Lidl collection, and while there are even rumours of a Trashion tour, Jez is, like a true creative force, already bored and onto the next thing, a controversial collaboration with Jon Nott due to be unveiled next year…but that’s top secret at the moment. ‘There are so many different roads I could go down and I’d like to go down them all. I couldn’t just do one thing. I’d get too bored. It’s the minutes of your life.’ As a visionary, she has already got countless shows planned out in her mind’s eye and would like to do more; she enjoys the buzz. ‘When one person designs everything, it becomes very harmonious. The vision doesn’t get watered down.’ But there’s also the dream of the open studio in Brighton with a home above for herself and her child, taking commissions and having a local life, which is in the process of coming to fruition.

What is clear is that Jez Eaton is an exciting artist, and whichever road she chooses to go down is sure to be littered with inspiration, drive, elegance and a darn good sense of humour. ‘There are no limitations on what I can do. I can do anything really, can’t I?

Jez would like to thank Suzie Skelton and Lee Wright for all their help with The Trashion Show and Liz Bishop for the opportunity to be involved.

Vanessa Austin Locke