A Solicitor. A Model. A Recovering Addict. A Creative Director. The story behind fashion’s most self-aware leading man.

Well, Richard Biedul is not like that. At all. If he mentions food, it will be to tell you about his “gross” McDonald’s habit and his obsession with “Christmas Grinch” fries. Forget the paychecks; he’d rather discuss gaming (“I’m currently playing Stray, where you are a cat in a futuristic landscape. It’s very therapeutic.”) or books (“I’m into philosophical mid-century Russian sci-fi novels. Such a geek!”). And as for relationships and toys, he is happily coupled to partner Melissa and their favourite pastime is playing with their sausage dogs, Vinnie and Albert. We bet those rock’n’roll interests weren’t on your Richard Biedul bingo card.

He has met all those male models you imagined, though. Smiled sweetly and played nicely with them. But they are not the people he spends time with. “What you do is you find people in fashion that reflect your own values,” he says. “And you form a really strong bond with those people. Because there are so many people coming in and out of our industry and there is such a rapid turnover, that once you find someone that you get on with, you kind of hold on to them for dear life.”

And he should know. Because despite fashion’s ever-revolving door, Biedul is not a designer clothes horse or a catwalk show pony. He is a style thoroughbred who has been at the top of the industry from the moment he was discovered in 2011. He was working as a solicitor at the time. He is now 42 – not that you could tell – and is as popular today as he was back then. The only difference is that instead of being just a model, he is now a designer, a host, an art director and, as of this year, the creative director behind the relaunch of the iconic and legendary fashion brand, Nicole Farhi.

The secret to Biedul’s success? That’s the best part. Unlike those other models we mentioned, he is charming and works hard. He arrives early and leaves late. He brings positive energy, bags of enthusiasm and plenty of original ideas. He is unflinchingly open and honest. And he doesn’t complain, bitch or moan. In fact, the only male model cliche he lives by is something Derek Zoolander said in the eponymous comedy about the fashion industry: “I’m pretty sure there’s a lot more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking. And I plan on finding out what that is.” And Richard Biedul most definitely has.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. To understand what makes Biedul the man he is, you need to go back to his youth. And when you do, the smile on his face tells you everything you need to know about the first interviewee to sit on the Entitled1 sofa. “I look back on my childhood with such fond memories,” he recalls. “I was fortunate enough to be born into a big, supportive, loving family where, despite coming from a working-class background, there was no such thing as a glass ceiling. My mum and dad believed that my brothers and I could achieve anything. We just had to set our minds to it, and they would actively facilitate us in achieving that… Even when I was making the wrong choices, when I was making mistakes – and I made a fair few – my mum and dad stood by me and allowed me to make those mistakes and to learn from them.”

From a fashion perspective, Biedul credits his father and his grandfather with shaping his style. “My dad worked in a factory, so his idea of style was informed by utility,” he says. “He wore overalls, denim and overshirts, and his clothing was extremely well-used and lived-in. He wasn’t living a life of disposable luxury. He was buying clothing to serve a purpose. Completely opposite to my grandfather, who would wear a Savile Row suit and a shirt from Jermyn Street. He’d have his Rolex, his shoes from Northampton and he drove around in a Jag. It’s like two diametrically opposed ideals. My grandfather loved craft and heritage, whereas my father favoured form and functionality. And for me, they merged into one. That’s why I’m wearing A.Presse denim and a Lemaire shirt – you’ve got Japanese functionality and Parisian chic merged into one. You don’t have to be one thing. You just need to have an appreciation of the
you wear and ensure that you give them a full life cycle.”

If style came from the male side of the family, Biedul’s academic motivation came from his mother. A hard-working solicitor, she taught him the value in education and to make the most of the skills he had. By his own confession, he was not good at maths, was the least dexterous human being on the planet, and was terrible at sport. “I was the king of mediocrity,” is his self-deprecatingly honest assessment. He was also a little bit naughty. By the age of 16 he was bunking off school, causing trouble and hanging with the wrong crowd. Then came his wake-up call. The deputy headmaster of his school sat his parents down and gave it to them straight: Richard gets one more roll of the dice, but if he blows this one, he’s gone.

He got the message. He nailed his GCSEs, rolled onto his A-levels, and got into university, where he studied law. He was still misbehaving, he admits, but once he was in the system and he discovered the drive and desire to achieve academic success, he didn’t look back. He completed his LPC (Legal Practice Course), graduated with a distinction and was snapped up by a law firm in the City. His path was set. He knew what he was going to be doing for the rest of his life. Fate, however, had other ideas.

After work one evening, Biedul went to the pub with a few friends. As he was walking in, he literally bumped into a woman walking out, and she stopped him. She was a model agent, she told him. They were looking for someone for a project in London and his face fit the bill. Yeah, right. If it sounds unlikely, Biedul couldn’t agree more. “Growing up, models didn’t look like me. They looked like David [Gandy] or Alex Lundqvist… chiselled from granite with blue eyes and blonde hair. I would look at myself in the mirror growing up and not particularly like who I saw. I didn’t think I was a great-looking guy. I counteracted that by developing a personality. So when that door was open to me at 27, it was something that intrigued me. And I wanted to see what was on the other side.”

He took some convincing, but Biedul’s curiosity got the better of him, and he dropped into the model agency to find out more. By the following Sunday he was on the catwalk closing the show for Oli Spencer. And that, he imagined, would be that. A fun story to tell his friends, back to the day job. When he arrived at work bright and early Monday morning, there was another invitation from the agency. Would he fancy going to Paris for Berluti next weekend? And the emails kept coming. A shoot for Esquire. An ad campaign for Brioni in Milan. Another show in New York. Mert & Marcus want you in Ibiza. “I found myself juggling two lives, and I did it for six months,” he says, still slightly incredulous. “I was taking holidays to make time for my modelling work until eventually there was nothing left. Then I was featured in a spread in the Guardian, and the cat was out of the bag. Everyone in the office saw it, and that’s when I had to make a choice: stay as a solicitor, or give modelling a try. That’s when I handed in my notice because I had to see where this was going – because I knew it was going somewhere. And if you had asked me then, would I have imagined that I would have had such an incredible 15 years? I could only dream of it.”

Looking back, it was certainly not a decision he took lightly. He had worked hard to qualify as a solicitor – did he really want to give it up? His parents and grandparents had helped fund his education, and he didn’t want to feel like he was letting them down. And although the life of a model was exciting and intoxicating, it can also be a fickle industry, and not everyone is to be trusted. There was also another issue that Biedul suspects was influencing his career choice: his substance abuse.

“At the time I was going through a real sticky patch with my addiction, and I don’t know if I looked at the fashion industry as an easy way out of my conundrum of being stuck in a job so I could potentially facilitate my habits even more,” he says with searing honesty. “Maybe that was why I took such a big risk, because it would enable me to use more. That’s pretty sad.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues. “I was using when I was a lawyer. I was using when I was a model. And I was using when I was an art director. It was only nine years ago this August that I got myself sorted out and I’ve been clean and sober since then. I don’t know, an addict in any industry isn’t great. But when you have something that is taking up enough of your time and energy to keep you focused [like being a lawyer], you tend to fall off the rails less. I guess, I don’t know…” He tails off.

Regrets? He has a few, he says, but as the song goes, too few to mention. The good times certainly outweigh the bad ones. He’s worked on every continent in crazy countries, in the most incredible cities, against brutal and beautiful landscapes with world-class photographers, stylists, art directors and editors. And beyond modelling, he has developed the skills that have made him an in-demand artistic and creative director, working with brands that have taken his career in new and different directions, culminating in his most challenging and exciting collaboration, with a soon to be named British legacy label.

“In 2026 we will hopefully be relaunching an English legacy house to market,” he says, bursting with pride. “It’s an opportunity that came via my art direction studio, and the idea I pitched to the shareholders was to lean back into what I’m good at, which is telling stories of sentimentality and telling stories of nostalgia. Things that make you feel like you’ve seen the imagery before, but you don’t quite know why. We presented our ideas, and by the end of this two-and-a-half-hour presentation, we were asked if we’d be interested in the role of creative director.”

It is an exciting opportunity and not one he ever thought he would get. But now that it is here, Biedul intends to grab it with both hands. “It’s a funny one,” he says reflectively, “because you start off as a solicitor and you become a model. By chance, you fall in love with an industry. You meet so many incredible people that teach you so much. And then all of a sudden, you’ve got a chance to use all of that information that you’ve gleaned from all of them and pivot it into your own language and to tell your own story. Only, it is for a brand that means so much to me personally. To be offered the opportunity to not only pay homage to an incredible brand but also to put my own language into it. It’s the stuff that dreams are made of.”

BOX OUT

Quick-fire questions with Richard Biedul

How would you describe your personal style?
I get asked this question so many times, and it never gets easier to answer. I like to reference the classics through a contemporary lens.

What is your favourite city in the world and why?
No question, it’s London. Because I was born here and it’s the best.

Do you have any hobbies?
Do you think I’ve got time for personal interests and hobbies!? I love my sausage dogs. I adore reading. Oh, and I play a hell of a lot of computer games, so that’s probably the most niche one. I’m a gamer.

What are the five essential items every man should have in their wardrobe?
A black suit. A navy suit. A grey suit. Then there would be a shirt that goes with all four of those suits, so probably white. And then a tie that goes with all of those suits, so probably black!

What are the three fashion crimes you think should be outlawed?
I don’t think there’s such a thing as a fashion crime, because it’s someone’s expression of themselves. They’re just learning curves.

What’s your favourite movie for style inspiration?
Gattaca. unbelievable wardrobe, sharp, chic, futuristic. But also now you look at it 25 years on, and you’re like, it still fits.

Who is on your best dressed list for men right now?
I think Coleman Domingo is great. He’s super playful. I really like Pedro Pascal and his stylist is really good. So if you’re watching this, keep up. And I love the menswear designer Scott Fraser Simpson. He lives and breathes his design aesthetic, which is mid-century.

What’s your guilty pleasure?
I love McDonald’s. Doesn’t matter what country I’m in, I’m getting a McDonald’s at the airport. I’m a fucking human waste disposal. You’re gonna hate me for saying it. I’m really sorry. I’m gross!