When designers depart, why should we care?
In a late-July article in the New York Times, Vanessa Friedman reported that Peter Copping, who recently left Oscar de la Renta after not even two years, was the eighth designer to engage in such a quickie divorce from a major house. My first thought was,"Who cares?"; my ladies-lunch ensemble is usually jeans and a tee.
But then, I thought, Coherence.
Time was when Chanel was where you counted on bouclé and braid, Pucci's signature was a swirling, audacious colourway, and even prêt-a-porter designers like Holly Harp delivered an identifiable aesthetic. Clients were loyal: Audrey Hepburn in Givenchy, Catherine Deneuve in Yves St. Laurent.
When the alpha dogs rotate by the year, the house looses its focus, but more significant for average consumers is that our entry-level designers, so "influenced" by the big names, are cut adrift, their North Star dimmed. The racks end up crammed with trousers cropped at odd lengths and limp, long sweaters that make women look egg-shaped.
Few department store labels show coherence, save exceptions like Eileen Fisher's relaxed rectangles, and in the loftiest reaches, Phoebe Philo's disciplined luxury at Céline.
You might think, "Not my problem; I just want a camel v-neck I can wash." But one day, you might be in a bind like my friend Jill, who enlisted me to shop for a dress for her daughter's informal daytime wedding this weekend.
Jill, 64, doesn't enjoy shopping (which may be why she left it to the week before?); she's happiest in her garden in swimsuit and wellies. She ruled out sleeveless, dislikes prints, and has problem feet which require flats.
At the department store, those criteria disqualified 85% of everything. Jill was utterly unmoved by the four dresses she tried: "What if I just wear my black palazzo pants and a top?" Daughter on phone: "NO". After an hour and a half, we gave up.
On the drive home, we noticed the 60% off sale sign at the George Rech boutique, and I asked her to make one last stop. Triumph! Here's her dress, a sapphire silk which matches her blue eyes exactly!
She said it would not be a one-occasion numbershe'll wear it to a New Year's Eve fundraiser party, and pack it for an upcoming trip to Napa Valley to celebrate a brother-in-law's 70th.
She will wear it with a thin white gold
bangle and sparkly "diamond" hoops borrowed from her daughter. I also mused about a pair of cuffs, which could be (in our dreams) these pearl beauties from Beladora:
For shoes, she already owns heels for a brief photo session and ordered Badgely Mischka jeweled flats for the restaurant reception:
Jill also considered this silk dress in soft red, on double markdown, but thought the blue was better for her peach skin tone.
Rech, characterized by a clean-lined but feminine style, good fabrics, and that little extra detail, offered coherent, chic and well-priced (given the sale) choices. (Womens' sizes will find similar at Marina Rinaldi.) Coherence reduces time and prevents the error of choosing 'the best of the bunch' from among a dizzying array, even though nothing is really great.
Next time that I'm the friend riding along, I'll suggest we go to one or two boutiques who provide a certain perspective, and skip the department store sea of dresses.
It's not so much that individual designers should stay put, I realized, as that their brands need an identity, so women know where to head. All those style books say "figure out what's you and what's not"; designers should follow that principle for their clothes.
But then, I thought, Coherence.
Time was when Chanel was where you counted on bouclé and braid, Pucci's signature was a swirling, audacious colourway, and even prêt-a-porter designers like Holly Harp delivered an identifiable aesthetic. Clients were loyal: Audrey Hepburn in Givenchy, Catherine Deneuve in Yves St. Laurent.
When the alpha dogs rotate by the year, the house looses its focus, but more significant for average consumers is that our entry-level designers, so "influenced" by the big names, are cut adrift, their North Star dimmed. The racks end up crammed with trousers cropped at odd lengths and limp, long sweaters that make women look egg-shaped.
Few department store labels show coherence, save exceptions like Eileen Fisher's relaxed rectangles, and in the loftiest reaches, Phoebe Philo's disciplined luxury at Céline.
You might think, "Not my problem; I just want a camel v-neck I can wash." But one day, you might be in a bind like my friend Jill, who enlisted me to shop for a dress for her daughter's informal daytime wedding this weekend.
Jill, 64, doesn't enjoy shopping (which may be why she left it to the week before?); she's happiest in her garden in swimsuit and wellies. She ruled out sleeveless, dislikes prints, and has problem feet which require flats.
At the department store, those criteria disqualified 85% of everything. Jill was utterly unmoved by the four dresses she tried: "What if I just wear my black palazzo pants and a top?" Daughter on phone: "NO". After an hour and a half, we gave up.
On the drive home, we noticed the 60% off sale sign at the George Rech boutique, and I asked her to make one last stop. Triumph! Here's her dress, a sapphire silk which matches her blue eyes exactly!
She said it would not be a one-occasion numbershe'll wear it to a New Year's Eve fundraiser party, and pack it for an upcoming trip to Napa Valley to celebrate a brother-in-law's 70th.
For shoes, she already owns heels for a brief photo session and ordered Badgely Mischka jeweled flats for the restaurant reception:
Rech, characterized by a clean-lined but feminine style, good fabrics, and that little extra detail, offered coherent, chic and well-priced (given the sale) choices. (Womens' sizes will find similar at Marina Rinaldi.) Coherence reduces time and prevents the error of choosing 'the best of the bunch' from among a dizzying array, even though nothing is really great.
Next time that I'm the friend riding along, I'll suggest we go to one or two boutiques who provide a certain perspective, and skip the department store sea of dresses.
It's not so much that individual designers should stay put, I realized, as that their brands need an identity, so women know where to head. All those style books say "figure out what's you and what's not"; designers should follow that principle for their clothes.
Comments
In Paris, I saw only TWO women wearing those weird wide-legged cropped pants, and on both of them the look was much more that of a split skirt rather than pants - the fabric was soft and fluid, and the rest of the outfit was somewhat on the "skirt-y" side. Except for the rare woman who has been able to make that look work, this has been another broadly touted fashion failure, I'd say...
hugs,
Janice
Janice: I just hear that Steilmann went under; not a name "designer" brand but a reliable source for the kind of work/dressy casual clothes women actually need, at a decent price point. Sigh. It seems there is so little mid-priced, well-made clothing out there.
Therefore, you have a great advantage in knowing what flatters you, and sticking with it. You can work in a lot of variety with accessories.
While some shoppers may value that, it doesn't seem to do well in the marketplace. The list of brands with coherent fit and design principles has been shrinking every year. High or low end, they seem to embody something that is not producing the returns that keep current management in place.
But isn't the end of the "middle ground" also a metaphor for the economy, with the increasing share of the wealthiest and the proliferation of precarious employment?
A mothridden aside: I discovered tiny mothholes and some of the little "trails" in and on a salmon/peach and hot-pink Hudson's Bay blanket I'd put away until now, obviously laundered before. It is out on my back balcony where I brushed all sides with vigour, but I have no idea what to do with it - my local laundrette (with large machines) is closed for the holidays; guess I'll have to schlepp it to another one. It won't fit in an apartment-sized washing machine... Grrr.
I've already done that - I took advantage of that horribly cold day - we're having another one today - it has to be seriously cold for exposure to kill the eggs. I do have a very strong loupe for art and research purposes.
Heavy Hudson Bay blankets would stand up to the hot hair dryer. I'm sad that it now has some little holes, as it was in very good condition and it is about as old as I am. One doesn't often see rosy specimens!
Those can go in a large laundromat washing machine, but obviously only on cold. I suppose I could have it dry-cleaned, but then I'd want to hang it out again to eliminate the toxic fumes.
If you would like your blanket restored to its former condition, though the cost is not small, I recommend Cheeseworth's in Toronto for invisible mending. They are absolute artists. We just had two sweaters repaired, cost was $50 for a medium-sized hole in each, but we can't see where they were. We have been using them for over 25 years. (You could call them to discuss number and size of holes for an estimate.) Having holes in something you treasure is a drag.
There is an invisible mending service here, near the McGill metro, but I tried them and found them more expensive and not really "invisible".