Nowadays, Gilbert and George are feted elder statesmen of the British art world, strolling their manor in distinctive tweed suits. “We are still here in the East End of London, but we are universal.” Why do they dress so smartly? “We used to say because we never wanted to be the artists their mothers would be ashamed of, but it didn’t work out quite like that.”
Are their mothers ashamed of them? “No, they’re very proud.” says George, quickly. “We don’t alienate anyone. The suits are very good because they are odd. We always get a table at a restaurant anywhere in the world. We’re never searched at airports. Even boys on bicycles with crazy dyed hair will screech to a halt and say, ‘Great suits, guys!’ They enable us to get away with a lot.”
What are they getting away with? They exclaim in unison: “The art!”
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