DAYDREAM DREAM
star handsome brother Patrick was born, bringing machismo balance to our childhood, with his cowboys, Indians, besieged Fort Alamo and AC/DC albums. As a child I inhabited a love filled home surrounded by a tangible magical world, a rich canvass for my imagination. Days were spent running through the feathery green crescent of sand dunes that rim Ballyheigue beach, said to be inhabited by ever elusive fairies, though I often found their empty “ Fairy purses’’. A Spanish galleon was wrecked on the beach in 1729, where we would dig for treasure around the blunt stumps of its remaining weathered masts, which still protruded up through the sand. We would search the ruins of the haunted Castle, that looms imperiously over the village, for the 32 chests of silver bullion cargo plundered from the shipwreck, believed to be hidden “somewhere” on its grounds. To this day, a mystical wave crests permanently in the middle of the bay. Legends tell of an ancient church submerged beneath it, an enchanted portal to the underworld of the Tuatha Dé Dannan. Once upon a time they led ghostly, fog shrouded midnight processions, across the surface of Ballyheigue Bay, to claim the bodies of deceased members of the Cantillon family for burial in the subaquatic cemetery. The B&B which our home became every summer, was also a portal, a magical gateway through which fascinating people from all over the world stepped into our house. I grew up influenced by their exotic accents and tales of lands far far away. As a little boy I would gaze in a squinting trance at the Sun’s dazzling reflection as it danced across Ballyheigue bay, for sure the predetermined placement of a powerful beacon, to reconnect me to my divine essence, and reawaken the desire to bring forth to this world that divine love filled light from whence I came. At the time it was a simple yearning, a dream, to cut out the sparkliest part of that dazzling sun trail and make it into a dress. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful,” I innocently marveled, “to wear that pure sparkling light?” My secondary school years were relatively happy ones with just one skeleton in the proverbial closet. My homosexuality: In the early 1980’s I really didn’t understand my teenage attractions to men, there was no information to be had anywhere, and the only reference I had to a gay man was Mr. Humphries on Are You Being Served?. Funny as he was, he didn’t reflect me. I thought I was most likely the only gay boy in Ireland. The tough boys at school jeered poofta or queer at any boy who was deemed less than macho for any reason, therefore I built a high protective wall around myself, keeping my guard up as best I could, as I hid my sexuality from me and everyone else. Growing up in a loving, fervent catholic family, I painfully struggled with my faith which insisted I lock away my sexual identity and throw away the key. It remained buried all throughout college and my first year and a half in London, though by then I had openly gay friends. The first utterance aloud of the words “I am gay”, to my best / girlfriend on a fine summer’s evening sitting on the banks of the River Thames was heartbreaking and a relief all at once. It would take many more months before my first romantic encounter when, like a fine champagne, my repressed sexuality finally burst forth in December of 1988. I told two of the people I loved most in the world, my parents when I came home that Christmas. I was a nervous wreck. I knew they loved me, but once they discovered I was gay, would they still love me? Would their faith force them to kick me out? I had heard horror stories. On Saint Stephen’s morning I went for a walk on the beach alone to build courage, only to turn around and find them both coming towards me; It was now or never. As I told them, they squeezed me in a sandwich between them and told me in tears that they loved Don no matter what. It would take over 30 years to realize the dream of the dazzling dresses. I worked as a designer in Dublin, London, Paris and New York and it was only in 2008 when I created THEIA, that I truly began to shine, and the dazzling dresses of light would be created. Thousands of hand embroidered sequins and crystals would adorn dresses from head to toe, sparkling and shimmering like the sun sparking across Ballyheigue bay. More importantly the confidence my gowns gave women, enhanced their divine inner light, magnificently beaming for all the universe to see.
Ballyheigue in County Kerry was the perfect place in which a daydream believer could grow up. It was as though I sat amongst the most colorful galaxies swirling in the heavens, perusing a physical life experience on Planet Earth, wondering how I might bring the cosmic dazzling divine, love filled light with me. At the young age of 57 I am in the process of writing my memoirs, reflecting on a life that begins with a happy go lucky little boy growing up in a rural seaside village on the south west coast of Ireland, who went on to dress some of the most famous women on Earth. The evolving book is revealing a marvelous thread of what I once thought were just “lucky” random happenings on the meandering nomadic path of my life, that now, in reflection, are a pin straight line of serendipitously linked brilliant beacons. Why am I writing a memoir so soon? Covid initially brought an unforeseen pause to my fashion career. It was during that initial lock down in New York, where Pascal and I lived for the past 30 years, that I sat down and began to write. My story had been recounted in the press many times over the years, however my vast story would be compressed over and over again to fit prescribed columns, the highlights of dressing Oprah, Julia Roberts and Nicole Kidman remaining, but decades of compelling stories edited out. The story of Pascal and I, recently celebrating our 31st anniversary together, could be a book all by itself. I was encouraged over the years to write it all down, even by the journalists who interviewed me, telling me that my story was intriguing, inspirational, and would make for a wonderful book. During that lock down the corporation for which I worked decided that THEIA, the affordable luxury evening wear and bridal brand I had created for them, was no longer a fashion vision they wished to pursue. After my 15 year tenure as Creative Director, I was let go. We found ourselves in unfamiliar territory as our lives had become inextricably intertwined with THEIA. It was my baby; I had selflessly poured my heart and soul in to creating beautifully designed and crafted dresses, to fill women with confidence and reveal their inner celestial light, beaming bright for all to see, inspired by the radiant luminosity of THEIA, The Greek Goddess of Light. The book became my solace, as we steadied ourselves. We would need to begin again and we took the time to decide what was really important to us. Family was our number one priority. We had always planned to retire to Ireland, and decided that this fork in the road was divine timing. It was time to return home to Ballyheigue and begin writing a new chapter in the ever evolving story of our lives. I learned that it was very possible before arriving on earth I could have chosen the perfect family in the perfect place. Choosing to be male and gay, in my case perhaps increased my sensitivity to beauty and the women I would dress, to help achieve my glittering goals. A simple yet rich life it was destined to be, created by two extraordinary parents, both born in Ballyheigue. Their beautiful love story began, when 6 year old Donal fell in love with 7 year old Mim, culminating with my handsome 21 year old dad, building his own garage business as a car mechanic, wooing 22 year old Mim back from New York to marry him. At the time, Mim was a very chic nanny minding adorable twins on New York’s fancy Park Avenue. In June 1965 she set sail from New York, Dad greeted her in Cobh and they were wed that August. I arrived dramatically the following June, as a thunderstorm with vivid lightning heralded my birth. I was followed 2 years later by my beautiful sister Deirdre, who would supply me with endless opportunities to dress Sindy dolls. She grew up to be the perfect fashion model and my muse. 5 years later my rock
BELIEVER
By Don O’Neill (he/him)
30
31
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker