Asia’s most famous hair stylist, Kim Robinson announced the closure of his salon in August. After 50 years in the industry he helped to transform, he sat down with Peter Cheung to reminisce about his incredible journey, and what he looks forward to in the future.
Although overused, the word “icon” seems appropriate when describing Kim Robinson. He’s a pioneer, who’s changed ideas forever about beauty, style and, most important, hairdressing in Hong Kong and Asia – an image maker for many of the region’s most famous and beautiful women, who simply referred to him by his first name and everyone knew exactly who they were talking about.
After I met him, we became fast friends and I feel lucky to have worked with him and to have witnessed his mind-blowing creativity, speed and precision, not to mention the invariably stunningly results.
In a frank and honest conversation, he allowed me to ask him anything about his incredible journey.
Your career has been written about extensively, especially the “downs”, but I want our chat to be more about the “ups”, the successes of your incredible journey.
I don’t carry baggage with me. I look forward to the future, not the past. What’s done is done. I only have positive things to say about the fact that if it weren’t for Hong Kong and its people, I’d never have seen this success. I’m one of the most successful in my industry. I turned a mass-market industry into a luxury brand. To command the fees I charge, with the clientele that I have, has been exceptional. I’m so proud of it and I was very much supported by this culture and the people of Hong Kong. I’ve learned lessons. I’ve been through a bankruptcy, we had a failed public listing and I could go through all those times again, but I really don’t want to. And, you know, it’s fine … it’s part of the fabric of my life. But look at the positive things that we’ve done over the years, all those fabulous shows and the celebrities whose hair I’ve been lucky to have my hands on. I probably wouldn’t have had the same chances if I’d been in Paris, London or New York.
Let’s start from the beginning. How did you arrive in Hong Kong and what was it like when you first got here?
I came to Hong Kong in 1976, straight out of technical school in Perth, Australia. After I passed my apprenticeship, I was making a little bit of noise there in the salon I was working in. There were no celebrities, just ordinary people but I was becoming a bit well known. I’d seen the 1950s film Love is a Many-Splendored Thing and thought Hong Kong was beautiful, but when I arrived it had all the tall buildings and seemed very modern. All my friends were Chinese, the Westerners then were very snobbish and elitist. I didn’t blend in with them, I didn’t feel understood and all I wanted to do was be with the cool Chinese people. The girls were gorgeous.
Rêver was the first Western-style hair-salon chain in Hong Kong; a guy named Giovanni brought me here to primarily do hair colour. When I arrived, the people who coloured their hair wanted it only black, jet black. They didn’t dye their hair any other colour, they didn’t really wear make-up – maybe just lipstick or some eyebrows, but there was no such thing as colour on their hair or their faces. At that time, there wasn’t even conditioner at the hair wash basin.
Your first stint in Hong Kong was short-lived.
The Rêver salon was in the Holiday Inn and it was a hot place: in those days, Tsim Sha Tsui was more happening than Central. Then Rêver opened in the Furama and when
I moved there, I met my future partner Andros Panayiotou and in 1978, we opened La Coupe. I got sued by Rêver for breaking my contract, so I couldn’t work in Hong Kong for a period of time.
I left and went to London, where I did an internship at Vidal Sassoon. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever come back to Hong Kong. I fell in love with my first gay lover and we went to live in Paris. There I met Alexandre de Paris, became his assistant and did all the fashion shows for all the big houses. I was the only non-French person on the team who spoke English and had to translate for all the models. There I learned so much, not just about hair styling but also about dealing with the fashion press and Vogue, and the exposure was incredible.
How and why did you return to Hong Kong?
I came back through Australia and something had changed in me. I’d hated it before, but Hong Kong was moving rapidly and I had a whole different view about it. I felt we should have a salon here like those in Paris – full service, make-up, and all about lifestyle. I met my partner, Richard Caring, who was then in garment manufacturing, and we opened the first Le Salon Orient in 1981 on Hankow Road, behind The Peninsula.
Later, Richard found a location on Wyndham Street, in a building with an Indian carpet shop on the ground level. We had a big canopy and valet parking, which was a big deal as only hotels had valet parking. My concept was to bring as much luxury as we could, have all the best products, a fully trained team of technicians, one floor for beauty and make-up, one floor for massage, facials and slimming, one floor for men. Nobody – and I mean – nobody had done that before and we were the pioneers. It reminds me of that line, “When was the last time you did something for the first time?” We kept doing innovative things, we were raking it in seriously and it was an incredible business.
We were packed all the time. People would turn up in their ballgowns, the drivers waiting downstairs, get their hair and make-up done, then off they’d go in their Rolls-Royce to their parties. And they did this several nights a week; it was that kind of era.
You know absolutely everybody and have the most famous friends. Give me, rapid-fire, A one-word description of some of them over the years.
Brigette Lin: discerning.
Danny Chan: romantic.
Leslie Cheung: nervous.
Sandy Lam: honest.
Sally Yeh: late … no, diva!
Nansun Shi: supportive.
Siao Fong Fong: quiet elegance.
Anita Mui: incredible.
Why did you find Anita Mui so incredible? When I was at Dior, I had the opportunity of working with you and Anita on her last two concert tours. She was the first and still the only Hong Kong artist to be dressed fully in haute couture for her shows.
Anita was one of the few artists who let me do whatever I wanted. I made her blonde before blonde was even cool. She cared about everybody. All the people around her had that same love. I didn’t look at her as the star. I looked at her as a professional, so incredibly trusting and pulling things off when things went wrong – she’d turn it around and do it. If the music was late, or missed the big whatever, she’d pick it up.
We did some incredible things: her shows were like Broadway productions and they were amazing. No one did things like that, I mean she had huge hair changes, quick costume changes in 30 seconds under the stage and she’d be off again. She loved it because I was super-fast. I remember that concert and I can see her coming out of the sky in your Dior outfit.
And she was funny. When Princess Diana was in Hong Kong in 1996, Anita also had a concert that night. I had to do Diana for a dinner at Government House and I was late for Anita. At the end of the concert, she dragged me on stage and told everybody “He’s the reason why I’m late,” and told the crowd how I had to do Princess Diana for her dinner. She then said, “So I’m the Queen of Canto-pop and the queen comes before a princess, so next time you do me first.” She made everything good.
We were living in a different time then. We all had trust in each other in those days, perhaps people reading this might not understand how life was like for us then. We were a close-knit community. There weren’t many of us, so we worked with each other, and crossed over in events or parties, but we built relationships with each other.
I was shocked when I heard you were closing the Chater House salon. I’m sure it shocked a lot of people. How did you feel?
It was the worst in the final days when I really let people know it was closing for good. I think they felt worse than I did.
But I’ve always had this on my mind: “You don’t have to be the last person to leave a party.” I didn’t want to leave when I was no longer wanted.
When the landlords decided to redo the whole building, I assumed they’d find a new location for me because we were still doing very, very well. We even survived Covid.
It turned out in the end there was no location for me that was luxurious enough. They offered me locations like basements, and some other places that didn’t have enough power, water or toilets.
So I decided I’d take a breather. Over the years, from arriving to Hong Kong with Rêver, opening La Coupe, having up to seven Le Salon Orient salons at one time, opening Salon Esprit in 1999 and coming back as KimRobinson in 2002, and launching KR plus the younger line, I’ve been able to reinvent myself through different types of salons for different types of people.
I don’t want to go back and do the same thing again … I see things other hairdressers don’t. I was trained by the very best and I have the experience, but I don’t want to do it again. At certain times of your life, you want different things.
Also, we might not see the same things, in the same way, with the new generation. A whole new generation of people wanting different things. If I look at the hair on the street today, the average girl has no style at all. I don’t think a lot of them look great, as they don’t have styles that fit the shape of their face. They just have long hair … straight. Hundreds of them would walk down the street and look the same, and they feel safe.
You also have your painting.
I do it for relaxation. I don’t have to ask or please anyone, I’m just doing it for me. The freedom of expression in painting is about me as an artist, whether I’m doing hair, make-up or interiors. I’m in the process now of doing abstract flowers, which I really enjoy.
What else is next?
My KimRobinson hair-beauty product line is my legacy I’m now focused on, to develop a full range of products that works for all types of Asian hair. A lot of products weren’t designed for Asians: different Asians have different hair textures, there’s no one size fits all and I believe there’s a need for these products. I want to leave behind something that will last long after I’m gone. To really develop this through my experience, what I’ve always done through hair, using the same passion, critical eye and determination.
There’s also something new in Australia: I got into producing wine. The first batch is coming out at the end of the year. I want the wine to be for fun people – it’s more of a fashion wine than a serious one. I built a property on the vineyard with an art gallery and a painting studio, and I want to do events there that crossover with art.
So you really won’t come back?
I’m 66, four years away from 70. How many good years do I have left? Only God knows. I was born a Christian, but I studied Buddhism and there’s that one famous line: “You think you always have time.” I don’t want to wait until it’s all over, on my deathbed, and you can’t take the money or anything with you, but I want to have lived the life I enjoyed.
I’ve done 50 years of fabulousness here, the most beautiful life, but what else haven’t I done yet? I want to look at those options, to be able to do those things while I still have my good health. I don’t want to waste time doing things I’ve done already.
Kim, please tell us: no goodbyes.
No, no, no, no. I just closed a salon and this doesn’t mean goodbye. No goodbyes, gorgeous!