Few costume designers have covered as much as ground as Sandy Powell. She’s one of the creative forces behind many beloved, disparate visual worlds, from Velvet Goldmine, to Gangs of New York, to Shakespeare In Love, to The Wolf of Wall Street. She’s an Officer of the Order of the British Empire. She’s competing against herself for an Academy Award this year — not the first time she’s accomplished that feat — not to mention Costume Designer’s Guild Awards and BAFTA Awards. And she’s far from finished. We spoke with Powell about costuming Todd Haynes’ Carol, research in the internet age, and some of her most fruitful creative partnerships. This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Carol is set in the early 1950s. Can you tell us a bit about that era in fashion and how it’s expressed in the film?

People look at this film and call it a 1950s film, and although it’s set in ’52, the real look of it is late ‘40s, apart from Carol herself. Most people don’t wear clothes that are bang up-to-date — most people are still wearing clothes that they bought five, even 10 years ago. So, the look of the film is late ’40s. But Carol has the resources to be able to afford new clothes, fashionable clothes, expensive clothes. And this was a transitional period, the early ‘50s. It was coming out of the war years in the ‘40s with the big shoulders into a much narrower silhouette, shoulders-wise. Although, the other very fashionable look was the Dior New Look, which was the tiny waist and the really full skirts. I decided not to do that look for Carol because it felt too extravagant for her character. I wanted her to look a little more restrained and sophisticated. So, her look is the leaner silhouette, which is a completely new look fashion-wise.

The colors in the film are quite vivid, which I guess is typical of both your work and of Todd Haynes’ films. When you’re costuming a film like Carol, is there any symbolic consideration behind the colors, or is more purely aesthetic?

It’s strange that you talk about the colors being strong, because I think this is the one film where the colors aren’t as strong as they normally are in my work. I thought I was quite restrained, subdued. I think the general tone is quite muted. Yet there are pops of bright colors. There were the pops of the reds and pops of yellow now and then.

I guess I was thinking of Carol’s red coat.

I think that’s what people notice, which is great because it shows. In terms of symbolism, then, those colors weren’t used symbolically. This was going to be the palette of the film that Todd wanted, and that came a lot from some of his images that he produced in a lookbook at the beginning. One of the photographers he referenced a lot was Saul Leiter, and his work is quite often monochromatic or in subdued color but with little pops of color, like the reds and yellows. That’s what I noticed, what I took from it. And I guess that was my reason to using those splashes of color breaking up the muted color.

But in terms of symbolism, I just tend to use colors I feel are right for the character or for the scene. I don’t really over-think it. I just, sort of, trust my instincts that this is the color that’s going to work and hope that it actually does work out.

What were some of the other touchstones that you and Todd drew upon for research on the film?

Oh my goodness, there were many photographers. He actually referenced a lot of female photographers in terms of Therese’s character and her photography, like Ruth Orkin, Vivian Maier. Even though Vivian Maier was later, the feel of her photography. Then, equally, you’d go through the lookbook of image and there would be Edward Hopper.

For Cate [Blanchett]’s character, I went to Vogue and went through back copies for those exact years, exact months, actually, in 1952, ’53 where we set the film. I looked at those exact months to see what was advertised and what fashion was on sale that the character of Carol would be wearing.

If you had to pick one piece that Carol wore and one piece that Therese wore that really captured their essence in the film, would you be able to pick one each?

Yes, I think I can, actually. I think it’s the fur coat for Carol, and Therese’s beret, scarf, and coat. I think just the two coats sum up their characters and the difference in their characters. And they wear them for an awful lot of the film, because it’s a road movie, essentially. If I had to do little cartoon versions of them, that’s exactly what they’d be wearing.

I found myself so drawn to Therese’s coat. Where did it come from?

I found it. I bought it at a vintage fair, and the hat and scarf, too. It’s a funny, weird sort of combination. It’s a bit like a duffle coat, but not quite, and it’s quite young.

Yeah, like you say, I felt like it was her character in one item. I really loved the little piping on it. It was a really nice piece.

That’s what was so exciting about finding it. Because I knew for both of them the coats were so important. It’s actually scripted that Carol is wearing a fur coat. I had to make that coat because I wanted a specific color of fur. But for Therese, that was really difficult. What on earth what is she going to be wearing? I tried lots of things, and when I saw that I knew that was the one.

Let’s talk about your work a bit more generally. Your first day on a new project, where do you begin?

Well, I suppose before the first day I’ve read the script, obviously. I guess it could be the meeting with the director when you actually talk through the entire film. What I want to get from the director is as much information as possible of what is in their head, how they want the film to look, feel, and their idea of the characters. That’s the very first thing. Then I go away and I start doing research. I start collecting images. My research consists of collecting images.

Has the way in which you do research changed at all, with the increased availability of digital archives and digital imagery?

Yes, well, I suppose it makes it a lot easier, but it doesn’t stop me using books. I would still much prefer to flick through a book, and that’s why I start with books. I’ve got an extensive library myself. I collect books. I will start on a project, whatever the project, by going through practically every single book I own because there will be something, some kind of inspiration. Even if you’re looking at a book of a different period, or you’re look at a book of paintings of flowers, there will be something, a color combination or something that strikes a chord.

I start with books. The internet is a great way of finding out information quickly, but quite often, you can’t find high-resolution images of anything. And I don’t like keeping all my images on the iPad. It’s useful for flicking through and quick reference, but I do like to have hard copy. The internet makes in things incredibly easy to get your hands on something fast. It could lead you somewhere interesting much quicker than if you were back in the library.

My issue with researching on the internet is that there are no limiting parameters, so I find, in some ways, it’s hard to begin researching something.

It is difficult, and also you go off-piste a little. You can go down an avenue you don’t want to.

Sure. Are there any books, any touchstones that you keep coming back to throughout your career? Secret weapons, of sorts?

Oh, my goodness, probably there are. One of the books I love, which I didn’t uses for Carol but I’ve used over the years for different things, is a book of photographs by the photographer Koudelka. He’s got two books. I think they’re both out of print now. One’s called Exiles and one’s called Gypsy. They’re pictures of European travellers from the ‘60s and ‘70s. That was a book given to my by Derek Jarman on my first ever job. And there are images in there that I use over and over. There a great book about the work of Balenciaga which comes out time and time again. It’s falling apart it’s been leafed through so many times. It’s a real mixture of things that I come back to.

Speaking of Derek Jarman, you’ve had long standing creative relationships with several directors. You’ve done six films with Scorsese, several with Todd, several with Derek Jarman before he passed. Is there a common aspect between these directors that allows you to have such productive working relationships with them?

They’re all different, but they are similar in that they are all incredibly visual directors and are very good at expressing themselves and communicating visually. That makes a huge difference. They speak the same language.

Right, cool. You began your career designing for the stage — does that background continue to inform your film work?

I’m not sure. I think it could well be, especially the kind of work I was doing in the theater, which weren’t conventional, regular plays, done in a proscenium arch. It was more sort of arty, I guess, more alternative theater. And I’ve done a lot of dance. My work has been described as theatrical, so I think it has influenced the feel of the work I do on film. Not that every single film I design is theatrical, but it has been described as that. And I really enjoy doing both.

Do you still do work for the stage?

I do. I’ve done mostly dance over the years I’ve worked with the same company for about 30 years. And I’ve done a couple of operas that get revived every now and then. In fact, I’m doing a revival of an opera in Barcelona next year that I designed several years ago. It’s just very difficult to commit to theater because you make a commitment months or years in advance, and on a film you never know you’re doing a film until the day you start work. But I do try to keep my hand in theatre because I really enjoy it. There is nothing like live performance, there is nothing like seeing something live on stage.

What, by the way, is the title of that opera?

Rigoletto. And it’s going on in Barcelona in 2017

You’ve done quite a number of period pieces. Do you find it’s getting harder to do them? I’m assuming that archival fabrics are becoming more scarce and–

Oh, gosh, yeah.

So, it’s becoming more of a challenge?

It is. It is more of a challenge. You have to do approximations. It always has been difficult. If you were doing Elizabethan, of course you’d never find any you never find it as a Elizabethan fabric. And if you do find vintage fabrics, even from the 50s, will you find enough of it to make something? It’s highly unlikely.

But fabric production, textile production at the moment is so fantastic that there are so many wonderful modern fabrics that you can use to make it look like vintage fabric. You just always have to do things to them. I think one of the difficult kind of fabrics to find is proper men’s suiting. Men’s suiting nowadays is made very, very lightweight. It’s made lightweight because of central heating and because temperatures are warmer, whereas in the old days, even in the summer, men’s suits were really heavy, dense wools. That’s what you can’t find, and that’s what I notice in films more than anything else. The fabric just isn’t right, doesn’t look right, doesn’t hang right. It’s a really difficult thing to achieve.

Then again, when you’re doing a period film, we’re not creating museum pieces, we’re just telling a story. You just have to get the essence of the period. Everything’s changed, everything’s moved on, so you do the best you can to make it believable in the period.

It seems to me like the vocation of costumer designer has become more culturally visible in recent years. I’m thinking specifically of someone like Janie Bryant, who has become a notable designer in her own right based on her work on Mad Men.

That’s true, yes. It has become more visible, people are aware that it’s actually a job. For a long time I’m sure people thought actors came in their own clothes. I guess I’ve noticed it particularity with Janie Bryant, she really is a trailblazer there. Every so often you get a film where somebody tries to do a fashion line based on it. It’s quite difficult. The two are very different. I mean, Janie has been very clever in combining the costume design with real clothes and making them wearable. Then again, Mad Men being ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s, those are clothes that are complete. You could have worn any of her costumes as clothes and got away with it.

I guess it depends on what kind of designer you are and what kind of stuff you’re doing. Quite often when I’m designing a film and designing period things I get ideas. I think, “Oh yeah, I could do the Carol range, I could do a whole bunch more designs,” because once you start designing things you have more ideas. I have more ideas for more clothes that could be worn in the film, it would be nice if I could just produce it, but of course that’s pretty difficult to do without backing.

Sandy, you’ve had a career full of highlights — you’re competing against yourself for an Academy Award this year, and I feel like maybe that’s not even the first time you’ve done that. Is there anything left that you feel like you’ve yet to accomplish in your field that remains on your to do list?

Of course there is. If there wasn’t I’d have to give up right now. Of course there’s more. There are always periods I haven’t yet covered, and then even if you have covered a period you… I could do another film tomorrow set in 1952 and it would be completely different. There is so much more to learn about every period. All the time, I’m interested in learning something new. I think the day I’m bored with doing my job I have to stop.

Is there a period you haven’t yet tackled that you’re really itching to?

Oh, of course, many. I haven’t done 1960. I’d like to do like a real, modern 1960. I’d also like to do Italian Renaissance. 1960s, Italian Renaissance, whatever. It’s all good.

The 18th Costume Designers Guild Awards take place on February 23rd. Sandy is nominated for her work on both Carol and Cinderella.

Q&A by Adam Wray, Curator of FashionREDEF. You can follow Adam on REDEF and Twitter (@FashionREDEF, @terminal_avenue), or reach him at adam.wray@redefgroup.com