Hugh was the person you could go to, who would protect & fight for creatives. He lived to support those who typically undervalued their contribution to creative businesses, and often were not equipped to stand up against the larger organisations when needed.

He was laser and razor sharp. Scarily so at times. Several times over, I witnessed him completely (intellectually) ‘take down’ someone who was misbehaving, like a fierce Father figure. He was always more than the match of his opponents. So much so, that once I was involved in a deal where his involvement was vetoed.

He gave so much of his time pro bono and was always on the end of a phone if a young designer called the SOS. 

But doing deals with Hugh representing you was also great fun. He had a glint and a twinkle – always with a clever quip. There was actually nothing more fun than going to battle with Hugh by your side.

The creative industries are less protected without his presence. I know that he would be rooting for the work this foundation will do in his memory.

I am sure it’s work will support, protect and even save some of the creativity and brands of the future. What a legacy that will be. And absolutely fitting for the man that was Hugh Devlin.

And a footnote – such was his discretion, that at his packed-to-the-rafters funeral, the entire creative world of London was there, together – never having known that they were all represented by the same man.

I miss being able to call Hugh on behalf of so many young designers in distress. What he did encompassed:

Getting them out of trouble with

- trademark

- negotiating collaborations in the light of knowing the companies, brands and going rates.

And x it by two

- winning against crooked showroom deals - finding sponsors and making introductions

- boosting everyone’s confidence.

And I don’t know what else!

I really don’t know how to say how desperately Hugh is missed by anyone who even had a brush with his kindness and razor-sharp solution-making.

And his sense of humour!

Sarah relied on Hugh Devlin’s discreet generosity as the top legal adviser who immediately responded, pro-bono, to young designers, both in emergencies and in arranging advantageous contracts which cemented their futures in the wider fashion industry.

I met Hugh very early in his fashion/beauty adventures, and he quickly became the person I could turn to for so many different kinds of advice, opinions (of which he had many, obviously!) or just a friendly chat.

He helped me with all my contracts and with setting up our brand. Hugh made things happen. And I always felt he left “the other side” feeling that they got a good deal too, he was very clever at that. I am here today because of Hugh, and I know I am far from the only one.

I first met Hugh in the early 1990s, when he wasn’t yet the titan of law he became, but a keen and commercial young lawyer seeking connections.

Hugh was fun. Smart, engaging and engaged, he opened my eyes to the fact men in suits could be as vibrant and inspiring as the “creatives”.

I noticed, in particular, that Hugh gravitated to engage with the up-and-coming talent – not just the established. In that way, he made deep and broad contacts in the television industry very rapidly. I know he took this breadth of interest into the worlds he chose to inhabit more fully than broadcast media: fashion and design, which were his true passion. 

I am grateful that we became fast friends very quickly, and enjoyed years of debate about business, design, food and the merits of the Eurovision Song Contest.

Hugh was a knight in shining legal armour for me and so many other creatives taking that next step in our careers, either into a new senior role or embracing entrepreneurship.

He truly understood and valued creativity and thus made sure the value of our talent was reflected in the deals we embarked on, crucially also educating us about the many aspects of running a business we weren’t au fait with – in my case, the finer workings of our company cap (capitalisation) table and the tax implications of various equity structures, a far cry from my magazine-editor days.

Above all, though, he had a passion for and sophisticated knowledge of the most creative aspects of the fashion industry, and often the advice strayed out of the financial and legal zone and into creative ideation which I know myself and many others also valued – as well as his excitement for a new idea or collection – highly. Hugh was a true confidante, but also an exceptional confidence giver and he shall be dearly, dearly missed.

When I first met Hugh Devlin, I had just left university and was trying to build something that barely had a shape yet. I had no idea how to make money, very little experience, and more naivety than confidence. Hugh met me in those early days and, from the very beginning, treated me as someone whose work mattered.

He was, of course, an exceptional lawyer. Over the years he helped me through countless complicated situations, often stepping in when things looked impossible. There was a year when he must have spent over a hundred hours on calls with me, entirely pro bono, guiding me away from bad decisions and helping me navigate situations I simply didn’t yet have the experience to handle.

But what Hugh gave me went far beyond legal advice. He was the first person in the industry who truly showed me my value. Sitting in his grand office at a time when I had been sleeping on a friend's sofa for a year, he spoke to me as an equal. He insisted that what I was building was meaningful and that I should never hesitate in believing that. That kind of confidence, given at the very beginning, changes a person.

His generosity had no limits. He always made time, always called back, always stepped in when things became difficult. And often, the conversations had nothing to do with legal matters at all. Hugh would call simply to suggest opportunities, introduce me to people, talk through my ideas. He extended that same openness to every early-career designer I brought to him.

If you open the print issues of 1 Granary, you will see one name appear again and again on the opening pages: Hugh Devlin. Each time, I thanked two people – my brother and Hugh. Two people who made the biggest difference in my life. Quite simply, he made my work possible. And more than the work, he showed me how to think about myself – with confidence, without hesitation. That gift is harder to measure than any legal win, and it has mattered more.

When we first needed legal advice early in our careers, we were introduced to Hugh Devlin. By reputation we had heard he was formidable, and we were understandably nervous. What none of us expected was the moment we realised we had all grown up in the same small Scottish village, Newarthill in Lanarkshire. The coincidence was so unlikely it stopped us all in our tracks. What were the chances that a young designer from this tiny place, suddenly navigating international attention, offers and contracts, would find himself guided by a fashion lawyer of Hugh’s expertise who came from the very same village? 

From that moment our relationship with Hugh became something far deeper than professional. Over the next 18 years he mentored, guided and protected us with extraordinary loyalty. Hugh knew us completely, our families, our background and our values, and there was never any pretence between us. At times he challenged us, at times he scolded us, but always with the honesty and care of someone who truly had our best interests at heart.

Hugh understood the complexities of the fashion business, the highs and the lows, and he stood by us at every stage when others fell away.

Hugh became part of our extended family, and we became part of his. His unwavering support shaped not only our careers but our lives. Supporting the Hugh Devlin Foundation is therefore deeply personal for us. Our loyalty to Hugh, and to Sarah, remains absolute. They are family to us, and it matters greatly that Hugh’s values, generosity and belief in people continue to live on through the work of the Foundation.