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Ralph Toledano, Chloe's CEO, took a gamble on Philo. When she was offered the top job, she was a rebellious, unknown assistant with a penchant for gold teeth, diamante-studded nails and hip-hop. Although many fashion insiders credited her street smarts for Chloe's success during McCartney's tenure, she was not an obvious choice to reinvent a 50-year-old brand that had not been a fashion must-have for the past 20. (Nor was she an obvious champion for the soft, romantic look she helped revive.) Philo herself seemed surprised, telling people she had been given the position "without anybody really knowing exactly what I do." Says Toledano: "Phoebe understands that nobody knows how to design for a woman better than a woman."
Yet fashion wasn't even Philo's first love. The daughter of a graphic designer and a surveyor, she initially studied sculpture and painting at London's Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design but switched to fashion as a more practical career choice. McCartney, a friend, offered her a job with Chloe in Paris, and by the time she was 27, Philo was at the label's helm. But this is not an All About Eve story. In a business in which many designers crave the spotlight and egos frequently outpace talent, Philo is nonchalant, modest and (brace yourself) a team player. After a five-month maternity leave for the birth of her daughter, Philo had her assistants take the final bow at Chloe's fall show while she watched from the front row.
Toledano's gamble has paid off. Chloe, which reportedly generates about $200 million a year in wholesale revenue, has seen its fall orders rise 80%. Owner Compagnie Financiere Richemont, the world's second largest luxury conglomerate, is adding all the frills of a successful label: more advertising and product lines, new stores, lines of children's clothing, jewelry and watches. The long-term goal is to turn Chloe into a billion-dollar brand.
Even with all this success, Philo remains as cool and breezy as her washed-silk peasant skirts. "I still don't really understand who I'm designing for," she says on the phone from Venice, where she is taking in the Biennale with her husband, art dealer Max Wigram. "It's definitely not me. I wear jeans and T shirts and comfy shoes. I really don't dress up at all." It must be that sixth sense of style.