A Givenchy 'Homage' by Matthew Williams Unravels a Complex History With Late Designer Ben Cho

 

Those closest to Cho, a downtown darling of the early aughts, say there’s more than meets the eye after alleging that Williams copied their friend, who passed away in 2017. Illustration by Allen Karachun

Those closest to Cho, a downtown darling of the early aughts, say there’s more than meets the eye after alleging that Williams copied their friend, who passed away in 2017. Illustration by Allen Karachun

Recently, Instagram lit up with a flurry of comments on a post comparing a Givenchy look by Matthew Williams to the work of Benjamin Cho, the late Korean American fashion designer and downtown darling of the early aughts who passed away in 2017. Athena Currey, a former Ford model and best friend of Cho’s, led the charge, putting Williams on blast and demanding he give credit.

The Givenchy look highlighted in Currey’s post went largely unnoticed when it first walked down the Fall 2021 runway. Then, Beyoncé donned it for a widely-circulated Harper’s Bazaar September feature. For those who were close to Cho, the sinewy braided silk cords immediately recalled their friend’s work. Writer Lesley Arfin, singer Cat Power, and filmmaker William Strobeck were just some of the many who took to the comments to express their anger. “You were then, as you are now, @matthewmwilliams, a toxic sociopath without morals and scruples,” one comment read from a private user.

Cho, who has become something of a mythical figure in New York City’s downtown history, was at the nexus of its buzzing social scene where actors, musicians, artists, and skateboarders collided at hotspots like Sway and Don Hill’s. He would spend his nights DJing and partying with the likes of Chloë Sevigny, Ryan McGinley, and Dash Snow, while devoting his days to handcrafting one-of-a-kind couture to critical acclaim. 

Cho’s designs, which often featured laborious manipulations of fabric and unexpected materials, leaned towards the kitschy and avant-garde. At times, they were devastatingly chic. On top of numerous Vogue accolades, New York Magazine also named him as one of 12 up-and-comers who would “give the big-league labels a run for their money.”

Luxury brands knocking off smaller designers has been par for the course in the digital age, where the Instagram feeds of young designers can easily fuel those lacking on the inspiration front. But some of the Benjamin Cho looks that appear to have inspired Williams predate the digital boom. Film images shot in 2000 and provided by Cho’s sister, Dr. Catherine Cho, bear even more similarities, like a braided scarlet top with trailing fringes styled over black trousers that looks uncannily similar to a look worn by Bella Hadid from the same Fall 2021 runway.

“It's a blatant ripoff,” said Meryl Smith, a visual artist and friend of Cho’s who collaborated with him on pieces like the faux polar bear skin rug coat that Lady Gaga wore in the “Bad Romance” music video in 2008. “It was one of Ben's trademark techniques. That's why I'm so shocked that Matt would think that nobody would know about Ben's collections.”

Cho, who used to do hair and makeup as a side gig while studying at Parsons School of Design, began incorporating actual hair in his early experiments with fashion in the late 1990s. Some of his first collections featured dresses that were spliced asymmetrically with braided hair that rejoined the pieces like faggoting. Others used hair to embroider delicate floral and bird motifs.

Marc Hundley, an artist and furniture maker, was a model when he met Cho on a test shoot in 1994. Knowing how to sew from childhood, the two quickly became close and Hundley began helping create pieces for Cho’s first fashion show in 1998. He believes his use of the braided silk fringe was a natural evolution. “He took the hair thing and he went with it because he used all the materials within his reach,” he said. “Since he had done hair before he probably had some extensions and I think it just went from there.”

Jennifer Lopez in a Benjamin Cho Spring/Summer 2001 top in the music video “Play,” 2001. Screenshots via YouTube.

Jennifer Lopez in a Benjamin Cho Spring/Summer 2001 top in the music video “Play,” 2001. Screenshots via YouTube.

By Cho’s Spring 2001 show, the braided looks had evolved into whole dresses and tops made of silk cording and fringe. Jennifer Lopez ended up wearing a piece in her music video for “Play” the same year, garnering the designer an enviable amount of press for the season. The following year, Brandy wore a red dress made of laced ribbons in the video for her song “What About Us?.” With front row fixtures like the Olsen twins, Natasha Lyonne, and Milla Jovovich, Cho had become every bit of the celebrity darling needed to become one of fashion’s buzziest talents.


As loved ones of Cho continued sharing Currey’s Instagram post, chiming in with comments that ranged in tone from sentimental to savage, it quickly emerged that there was more to the story than your typical copycat tale. 

In a subsequent post, Currey, who modeled in all but one of Cho’s fashion shows, made a pointed effort to draw attention to the relationship between her friend and Williams. “I am including pictures of them because it is important you know they knew each other,” the caption read. “There is no faceless intern pulling images as someone assumed.”

Currey elaborated over a phone interview. “I know that fashion gets recycled,” she said. “But I don't know how common it is that someone that close to you takes your ideas, puts their name on it, and then puts a fashion label on it, you know?”

Matthew Williams and Benjamin Cho attend The Whitney Biennial After Party at The Armory on March 4, 2008 in New York City. Photo by PATRICK MCMULLAN/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images

Matthew Williams and Benjamin Cho attend The Whitney Biennial After Party at The Armory on March 4, 2008 in New York City. Photo by PATRICK MCMULLAN/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images

For a time, many of Cho’s friends remembered him and Williams being inseparable. “It was kind of a big deal because he didn't really have a lot of close relationships that I knew of,” Currey said of Cho, who began spending much of his time with Williams. “He even brought him to a dinner with Ben's mom who was visiting from Korea,” she continued. “As his best friend, that was the only time I had ever met her as well, so I knew that Matt was important to him.”

According to friends, Cho was intensely private about his personal life and many were surprised when Williams entered the picture. “It was a huge deal,” said Tony Cox, a former pro skateboarder turned artist and gallery owner. “Everyone's like, ‘I’m Ben’s best friend,’ but in reality, Ben didn't just let anyone in his life like that.”

Not long after Currey’s second post, Williams took to Instagram stories in an attempt to clarify matters. “Thx to Ben Cho who I began assisting in my early career, he taught me so much about fashion and art,” read his caption alongside an image of Beyoncé in the Givenchy dress. “This braided technique I learned from Ben and I used it in this dress as my homage to Ben. Miss you.”

Williams later revised the caption of a June 28 post of the dress to attribute credit and turned off the comments. “When I realized the hommage was unintentionally unclear, I immediately addressed it on social media to make sure the legacy of Ben was respected, as it was always and remains my intention,” he said in a statement via e-mail. He also says he was a paid assistant and collaborated with Cho on projects for Lady Gaga.

But friends and collaborators of Cho’s were quick to dismiss Williams’ claims. “Ben didn’t really have assistants,” Smith said. “His friends were his ‘assistants’ and we all worked on his shows together.” She described a bustling, collaborative environment where they all volunteered their time and pulled all-nighters because it was as exciting to help bring Cho’s vision to life as it was to be around him. Still, she never saw Williams around.

Smith also took issue with Williams calling his dress an homage. “To put something so fleetingly in an Instagram story that's up for 24 hours is not a proper way to pay homage to somebody you cared about,” she added.

Hundley, who continued to work on Cho’s shows until his last one in 2008, couldn’t recall seeing Williams around either. “He could’ve passed through to hangout and maybe Ben would tell him to do something, but I don’t remember him being there,” he surmised. “Like, our friend Dash would be around for the making of the clothes, but he didn't make the clothes. He was just there, you know?”

Dr. Cho, a neurologist in Manhattan, also said that she didn’t believe Williams had ever assisted her brother. “I’ve never seen him backstage,” she said. “When Ben had a fashion show, there were a ton of people there and I've never, ever seen Matt there.” Dr. Cho herself was often around, showing support by helping to cater his shows, running last minute errands, or letting his team use her apartment as a studio and show venue.

A sketch of Lady Gaga’s costume design by Benjamin Cho (left) and Gaga wearing Benjamin Cho on American Idol, 2009 (right). The sketch reads “American Idol dress!! Designed by my friend Benjamin Cho.” Image via Book of Gaga, 2009.

A sketch of Lady Gaga’s costume design by Benjamin Cho (left) and Gaga wearing Benjamin Cho on American Idol, 2009 (right). The sketch reads “American Idol dress!! Designed by my friend Benjamin Cho.” Image via Book of Gaga, 2009.

“In a sense, Matt did learn a lot from being around Ben,” she said of their relationship. “He was extremely generous and loved to share ideas.” She spoke of her brother’s friendship with Lady Gaga and a time the budding superstar sought advice from him early on in her career.

“There was a point where Gaga was trying to become more serious, like what she's doing now with Tony Bennett,” Dr. Cho said. “But she was really young and my brother advised her against it and encouraged her to go wilder.” She says he then connected Gaga with stylist Nicola Formichetti, who would become a prominent member of Lady Gaga’s creative team, Haus of Gaga. Around that time, Williams was installed as its first creative director and for a period, was romantically linked to the pop star.

Dr. Cho also spoke of a time Williams took a sketchbook from her brother. “It was ideas and set designs for a Gaga show that he later saw a lesser version of on TV,” she said while recalling a clear piano and a celestial set. “He was really upset and confronted Matt, who was like ‘I’m sorry, I'm just under a lot of pressure,’ and returned the book to him.” Cox also heard about the incident directly from Cho. “I think he was hurt and traumatized that someone would have the audacity to take his personal art and produce it for someone on that level,” he said.


Winnie Wong, an influential political activist and senior advisor to Bernie Sanders’ presidential campaign, was a friend of Cho’s for over a decade. She remembered when Williams came into their orbit. “Matt’s ascent in the social scene of New York city was swift,” Wong said. “He was this person who had come from, like Illinois, and moved to the city and all of a sudden he was in every room as a VIP with other VIPs.”

 “Matt wasn't the most outgoing guy,” Smith said of Williams. “He was just kind of quietly by Ben's side, sitting there nicely with a smile on his face and not engaging much.” Williams’ presence, or lack thereof, was the reason why many friends of Cho’s did not immediately realize that the Matthew Williams of Givenchy was the same one as the subject of Currey’s Instagram post. 

“I didn't even know he was a designer. I just thought he was an ex-soccer player who went out with Lady Gaga,” Hundley said. “It was a surprise to me recently when I found out he was at Givenchy. I was like ‘what?’,” he added with a chuckle.

Many friends of Cho’s waxed poetic about the times they spent together out on the party scene. “When he walked into a room, he stole the show and he didn't do it on purpose,” Wong said about Cho. “People were delighted and enthralled to be near him. They adored him. I adored him. And he adored me back.”

But many of Cho’s friends kept Williams at an arm's length. “Ben truly liked this human being, but there were some ulterior motives on Matt’s side and we all saw it,” Cox said, “It was just kind of transparent.” He held back before saying too much.

“Matt added this really unpleasant dimension to Ben’s force field and it was noticed by his closest friends,” Wong said. “I think that someone like him just saw how bright of a light Ben was and flocked to that.”

Cho’s friends remarked that he became distant soon after Williams entered the picture, yet no one seems quite sure how things fell apart between the two around 2009. “Ben became very withdrawn and was very depressed for a period of time after they drifted apart,” Wong added. “That's really when he kind of took a turn for the worst.”

Cox believes the sketchbook incident may have contributed to their falling out. “It ended bad between them,” he remembered. “It was probably over at this point when things like that were happening.”

It’s also been said that the death of close friend and artist Dash Snow in 2009 may have also exacerbated Cho’s emotional state and a struggle with heroin addiction. Like Snow, Cho also passed away from a suspected overdose.

“Would it have been better had he not met Matt?,” Dr. Cho wondered. “I think so. Ben got very lonely after he left.”


Before Currey’s Instagram posts, it had been years since some of Cho’s friends had reconnected. Her post began to serve as a sort of memorial to his legacy, which extends far beyond his designs. “Ben created a large web of friends and it connected so many of us who still know and love each other all these years later,” Currey said.

For Wong, seeing Currey’s Instagram post brought her back to a painful place. “It triggered a memory of my experience watching Ben's light fade in the wake of his experience with Matt Williams,” she said. “Ben’s neck was the first rung of the ladder that he climbed to the pinnacle of where he's at now.”

Williams would go on to co-found the high-end streetwear brand 1017 Alyx 9SM in 2015. After racking up a cohort of celebrity supporters and high profile collaborations including Dior, Nike, and Moncler, he eventually landed his biggest gig to date—creative director of womenswear and menswear at Givenchy, which was announced in June of 2020.

To lead a storied European luxury house could arguably be one of the most coveted milestones for a fashion designer, and Cho himself had hoped to one day take the reins of one. “When I was younger, I used to dream that I would take over Balenciaga,” he said in a 2008 interview with Purple Magazine. He thought about Schiaparelli and Pierre Cardin too, whose surreal aesthetic and use of unusual materials, respectively, aligned with Cho’s own.

A Benjamin Cho runway look from the late 1990s featuring braided human hair (left), and braided silk fringe look (right). Images via Cathy Cho.

A Benjamin Cho runway look from the late 1990s featuring braided human hair (left), and braided silk fringe look (right). Images via Cathy Cho.

But nearly a decade after he began showing, Cho started to distance himself from fashion. His Spring 2009 collection, which featured updates on his signature braided fringe, would be his last. Concurrently, the late aughts began ushering in a new group of young, business-savvy designers who would capitalize on a lucrative, burgeoning contemporary market that made high fashion more accessible to consumers. Suddenly, Cho’s brand of unbridled creativity seemed a thing of the past.

“I don’t think he ever capitalized on his popularity,” Dr. Cho said of her brother. “He was always struggling. It was very frustrating for the family to see.” She went on to describe some commercial pieces he made that performed well for a time. At one point, a couple of investors who were interested in the fashion space also entered the picture, but ended up pulling out.

That push for commercialization was a struggle for Cho, who reflected on his mercurial career in a 2005 interview with Paper Magazine. “I just sort of lost interest,” he said. “I was just so exhausted… it took me so long to get to that point. I just never had any money,” he continued. “I started in 1998. By the time of my breakthrough show, the fringe show, it was 2001 and that's already six shows. That's a lot of seasons to be slaving away.”

Leo Fitzpatrick, a friend of Cho’s and a former actor who starred in the film Kids and the television series The Wire, says their hard-partying lifestyle also had a role to play. “The problem is when the creativity stops,” he said. “When the partying is more important than the creative output, that is what fucks everything up. And we were definitely partying way more than we were being creative.”


If you happen to cross paths with one of Cho’s many best friends, they’re all quick to effuse about his genius and endless creativity. More than a few also cited the fair share of copycats he saw in his heyday. A Vogue obituary even acknowledged that his intricately braided silk pieces were widely copied. Dr. Cho said she would often advise her brother to retain a lawyer to fight the copycats, but he would always try to brush it off as a compliment.

So, what might Cho think of Williams’ supposed “homage” today? “He would laugh it off with grace and humor, because that is who he is,” Wong said. “But he would internalize the hurt and he would suffer” she continued. “But because the person that he was, was so much more magnanimous than Matt could ever be, he would never react with anything other than good humor and grace.”

Benjamin Cho in Lisbon, Portugal. Photo by Chris Shontig

Benjamin Cho in Lisbon, Portugal. Photo by Chris Shontig

Despite the pain of seeing the work of their loved one being copied, a sliver of a silver lining became evident to Cho’s friends. “It seems like this generation is taking notice of his work and there’s been enough time where people are talking about it again,” Currey said. Just a few months ago, an undergrad student studying creative non-fiction at Columbia University reached out to her about writing something about Cho. The project is in its infancy, but aims to tell a comprehensive story of the designer’s life.

“It was his interest in other people and in keeping life interesting and not dull or boring,” Hundley responded when asked what he’d like people to know about his friend. Smith, echoed another popular sentiment among them. “He would make you feel like you were the only person in the room,” she said. “He was the most hilarious, talented, true-blue friend.”

“Ben really was kind of like an unsung hero in fashion, whether he was my friend or not,” Cox said. “He was so ahead of everybody.” Having featured several of Cho’s dresses in a 2018 exhibition at his gallery Club Rhubarb, his curiosity was piqued when our conversation segued into the Met’s upcoming costume exhibit In America: An Anthology of Fashion. “Maybe this is why this is all happening,” he said, hopeful Cho’s work might be included.

Since Cho’s death, Dr. Cho has also been approached by multiple friends who were interested in making a documentary about her brother, suggesting the process could be therapeutic for her. She started looking into digitizing his early shows and even took some of those friends to the storage unit in Greenpoint, Brooklyn that holds Ben’s archives, but it was too soon for her.

Since Currey’s Instagram post and the outpouring of support from Cho’s friends, Dr. Cho says a weight has been lifted off her shoulder. “I feel more in touch with Ben and his world,” she said. Though much about her brother’s life still remains a mystery to her, she’s now ready to pick back up where she left off. “There’s a lot I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m eager to find out.”