Biba: ‘The Only Thing You Have Is What’s in Your Head’

 I recently attended a fascinating exhibition about the legendary fashion brand Biba. (The Fashion and Textile Museum, London, until 8 September.)

‘The market was instant for that age group, they wanted it there and then. They didn’t want to wait, as they didn’t look to the future in any way.’
Barbara Hulanicki

Between 1964 and 1975 Biba sold fast, affordable fashion to young people in London, the UK and beyond. Fusing the creative flair of Barbara Hulanicki with the commercial nous of her husband Stephen Fitz-Simon, Biba offered bold outlines, simple construction, vibrant colours and imaginative fabrics. It was a magical, immersive shopping experience, a lifestyle brand that endlessly reinvented itself.  

‘It isn’t just selling dresses, it’s a whole way of life.’

Hulanicki was born in Warsaw in 1936. After her diplomat father was assassinated in Palestine in 1948, the family moved to Brighton. She studied at the Brighton School of Art, and then worked as a freelance fashion illustrator for magazines such as Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Tatler and Women's Wear Daily. She quickly realised that the elite couturiers were out of step with emerging youth culture and the changing tastes of modern women.

Pink Gingham Dress

In 1961 Hulanicki wedded Stephen Fitz-Simon, an ad man employed at the London Press Exchange. With Hulanicki working from home and Fitz-Simon doing long hours in the office, their married life got off to a challenging start.  

‘We could both see we were on a collision course, so I was desperate to try and find something we could do together.’

Fitz-Simon foresaw that illustration was being eclipsed by photography, and so encouraged Hulanicki to pursue her interest in design. In 1963 the couple set up a mail order fashion business, Biba's Postal Boutique ('Biba' was the nickname of Hulanicki's younger sister, Biruta). The following year they had their first significant success when they advertised a pink gingham dress and matching headscarf in the Daily Mirror. The outfit looked similar to one recently worn by Brigitte Bardot, and 17,000 units were sold.  

Hulanicki and Fitz-Simon were emboldened to open the first Biba boutique, in Abingdon Road, Kensington. The store had a nightclub feel, with dark interiors and loud music, muddled merchandise and clothes hanging from hat-stands. Breaking with the conventions of the time, it offered late-night shopping, young, approachable staff and communal changing rooms.

'It was like fishing: you would never know what you might come back with.’

As a fashion illustrator, Hulanicki was predisposed to simple lines and bold silhouettes, and she avoided fussy details. She designed mini-shift dresses and mini-skirts; jump suits, coats and hats, in ‘bruised’ purple, plum, olive, rust, mulberry, mauve and black - what she called ‘auntie colours.’

‘We started off with just really simple shapes, little smocks and shifts, as it kept the manufacturing headaches away.’

Fitz-Simon aimed to keep prices below the disposable weekly income of the average London secretary. And so the skirts, tops and accessories sold for a few pounds or less, dresses for under three pounds. And for the first few years, to keep costs down, the garments had no label, and were only available in sizes 8 to 12.

‘I wanted to make clothes for people in the street, and Fitz and I always tried to get prices down, down, down.’

Biba - Bridgeman Images

The Biba boutique became hugely popular, frequented by the glitterati of the day: Twiggy, Cher, Cilla Black and Cathy McGowan. In 1966 they set up in larger premises on Kensington Church Street. The new shop boasted a black and gold exterior, and striking red and gold wallpaper inside, along with antique mahogany shelving.  

‘From day one of the first Biba I was never quite certain which came first, the clothes or the interiors.’

In 1969 Hulanicki and Fitz-Simon launched an even bigger Biba store on Kensington High Street, featuring Victorian wooden fixtures and Art Deco inspired sets. Staffed almost entirely by women, the shop had one of the first workplace creches.

As Biba grew, it retained its cost consciousness. Shops opened in autumn and winter months, when sales of coats ensured higher profit margins. Evening dresses were labelled as dressing gowns so that they would be subject to lower tax. 

Typically, Hulanicki designed for a young woman with long thin arms, flat chest, low waist and straight hips.  

‘The silhouette was as long as possible… like a drawing. [The ideal Biba girl has] a skinny body with long asparagus legs and tiny feet.’

Hulanicki evolved her creations in step with changing tastes and appetites. There were slim trouser suits, with square shoulders and fitted sleeves. There were plunging necklines, wrap-over bodices and round-edged collars; culottes, coordinated separates and long diaphanous dresses. Whereas previously apparel retailers tended to offer longevity at a premium price, she made sure that there was a constant succession of fresh, affordable seasonal releases.  

'We are determined that customers shall be able to buy summer clothes in summer and autumn clothes in autumn.’

Hulanicki took inspiration from history - from Victoriana, the Pre-Raphaelites, Art Nouveau and Art Deco; from Mucha, Mackintosh and Klimt. Biba’s celtic knot brand device, created by Anthony Little, echoed the illustrations of Aubrey Beardsley.

As well as working extensively in cotton, linen, chiffon, satin and velvet, Hulanicki experimented with heritage fabrics like marocain, flanesta, crepe and crepe de Chine.  

‘We were always desperate for something different. We’d always had hundreds of fabric reps coming into Biba and we produced thousands of in-house prints.’

Early problems with sourcing prompted her to limit lines to 500 pieces in any one fabric. So the shop was always freshly stocked, and there was a sense of urgency when customers found something they liked.

‘Take it or leave it, but if you wait it won’t be there when you come back.’

Consequently, Hulanicki and Fitz-Simon established long-term relationships with textile manufacturers and attended countless textile fairs in the quest for ideas.

‘We went to all the fabric fairs: Milan, Bologna, Spain, Paris. I was obsessed. I had to see everything.’

Barbara Hulanicki, 1964. © Barbara Hulanicki

The brand rapidly extended into menswear, unisex fashion and couture – and into children’s wear, which Hulanicki designed as scaled down versions of adult styles.  

‘They have minds of their own. At three they come into us and choose everything, even their hats. They know what they want.’

The Biba look could be completed with accessories: floppy hats and elegant headscarves; colourful boots, plastic jewellery and feather boas.  

‘First you’ve got the dress, then the tights, then the shoes, then the hat, and then you get to the face…and nothing.’

There was also a hugely successful range of cosmetics, sold through 300 Dorothy Perkins shops in the UK, and in more than 30 countries worldwide. Biba was the first company to produce a full range of cosmetics for both Black skin and for men.

Mail order took Biba garments and accessories nationwide in the UK. In the United States fabrics were sold with accompanying patterns through Macy’s, and a Biba department was set up in Bergdorf Goodman.

Biba at High Street Kensington became one of the most profitable stores in the world. It had over 100,000 visitors per week and an annual turnover of more than £200 per square foot (compared with £50 per square foot in an average department store).

Twiggy in the Rainbow Room, Biba © Justin De Villeneuve and Iconic Images

‘When people like something, they need mark I, mark II and mark III. A progression.’

And so, in 1973, the brand scaled up yet again, with the launch of Big Biba, also on High Street Kensington. Spread over seven stories and fifteen departments, the store had an Art Deco interior celebrating the Golden Age of Hollywood. It sold Biba washing powder, baked beans, babies’ nappies and satin sheets. There was Biba wallpaper, paint, cutlery and soft furnishings. At Big Biba you could see an exhibition, visit a beauty parlour and take tea on Europe’s largest roof garden. In its Rainbow Room restaurant, you could watch bands like the New York Dolls, Cockney Rebel, the Pointer Sisters and Liberace.

The store attracted up to a million customers every week, its aesthetic chiming with the emergent glam rock movement. Freddie Mercury’s girlfriend Mary Austin worked there.

‘When [Queen] fans come over here, that ought to be the first place they go.’
Freddie Mercury

However, the stresses of running such a multi-faceted, endlessly changing fashion and lifestyle phenomenon became too much. Hulanicki and Fitz-Simon had sold 70% of the business to retailer Dorothy Perkins in 1969. Three years later Dorothy Perkins was taken over by property developer British Land, an owner that was unsympathetic to Biba’s creative culture.

‘Every time I went into the shop, I was afraid it would be for the last time.’

As well as the financial and workload pressures of running such a mercurial business, there were also challenges that came out of left field. In an episode that foreshadowed today’s ethical concerns about fast fashion, in 1971 the urban terrorist organisation The Angry Brigade (who had disrupted the Miss World competition the previous year) bombed the store.

‘Women are slaves to fashion, Biba leads fashion, therefore blowing up Biba will liberate Biba.’
The Angry Brigade

In the end Big Biba lasted just two years. Its fixtures and fittings were auctioned off and it was occupied by squatters. In 1975 it made way for a Marks & Spencer and a British Home Store.  

‘I was okay for two days and then it hit me. I didn’t know who I was any more. Biba had been my life, my dream.’

Biba had been a revolutionary presence in the British fashion and retail world, ushering in the era of fast, affordable fashion and the lifestyle brand. It had shone brightly, fabulously, and then burnt itself out.

Twiggy in Biba © Justin De Villeneuve and Iconic Images

Biba teaches lessons about the dynamism of youth culture, the imperative of immediacy and affordability, the essential thrill of the retail experience and the relentless quest for inspiration. It also challenges us to manage brand extension with care; and to consider the social and environmental costs of fast fashion.

After the collapse of Biba, Hulanicki moved to Brazil, where she opened several stores and designed for labels such as Fiorucci and Cacharel. In 1987 she settled in Miami, where she ran an interior design business and worked as a consultant. She is still there today.

'Now, whenever I finish something, I take some photographs and say 'goodbye'. When you lose everything, you realise that the only thing you have is what's in your head.’

'I'm in with the in crowd, I go where the in crowd goes.
I'm in with the in crowd, and I know what the in crowd knows.
Anytime of the year, don't you hear? Dressing fine, making time.
We breeze up and down the street, we get respect from the people we meet.
They make way day or night, they know the in crowd is out of sight.
I'm in with the in crowd, I know every latest dance.
When you're in with the in crowd, it's so easy to find romance.'
Dobie Gray, 'The 'In’ Crowd’ (B Page)

No. 482

Mary Quant: Becoming Bored Before Everyone Else

'All a designer can do is anticipate a mood before people realize that they are bored. It is simply a matter of getting bored first.’
Mary Quant

I recently enjoyed the documentary ‘Quant,’ celebrating the life and work of fashion designer Mary Quant (2021, directed by Sadie Frost).

'Fashion is a tool to compete in life outside the home. People like you better, without knowing why, because people always react well to a person they like the looks of.’

Quant, who passed away last year at the age of 93, brought affordable fun, freedom and comfort to female fashion. She designed for the Chelsea Girl, a young, emancipated working woman who kicked against tradition and convention. She introduced short, simple, streamlined garments, in bright, bold colours and patterns, worn with flat shoes and sharp haircuts. She democratised the jersey dress, the miniskirt, tights and trousers; skinny rib sweaters and PVC rainwear. She grew a successful business that expanded internationally and beyond clothes into make-up and homeware. And she taught us some compelling lessons about the creative mindset.

'Rules are invented for lazy people who don't want to think for themselves.’

1. Speak Like a Child

'I grew up not wanting to grow up.’

Barbara Mary Quant was born in 1930 in Woolwich, London, the daughter of Welsh schoolteachers. She had a blissful childhood, running wild with her younger brother in the Pembrokeshire countryside. 

‘I was the usual split personality as a child. One minute climbing trees, only wanting to play with boys and throw stones and steal apples and the rest of it. But equally there was the other side, where I just adored dolls and clothes.’

Quant found adulthood an unattractive prospect.

‘The day I was 13 I cried all day because old age had struck… Growing meant to me getting into stockings and suspenders… and high heels and having artificial hair and artificial nails. You know, a bosom that came into the room about 2 minutes before the rest of you.’

2. Find the Outcasts

Quant studied illustration and art education at Goldsmiths College, one of a number of British art schools that were inspiring a new generation at the time. She found true soul mates there.

‘We saw ourselves as sort of outcasts really, and trying to somehow gang together in Chelsea with a very few other people who felt as outcast as we did.’

Goldsmiths taught Quant to see the world differently.

‘We didn’t like the way things were, didn’t like the way things looked, the way people lived.’

3. Don’t Be Tasteful, Be Vulgar

Britain in the 1950s was a bleak, austere country, still recovering from World War 2, and young people were determined to change things.

‘We’d won a war and lost so much at the same time. There was a new generation that came romping through with high confidence and high spirits, and the generation that should have been there to control everything just let us do it.’

After finishing her degree, Quant pursued her fashion ambitions with an apprenticeship at a Mayfair milliner.

High-end design was at the time dominated by Christian Dior’s New Look, which, despite its name, was nostalgic for pre-war times. Quant instinctively felt uneasy with couture’s elite customer base and its establishment views.

‘We don’t want to look like a duchess…. Good taste is death. Vulgarity is life.’

4. Find Partners with Complementary Skills

At art school Quant had met her future husband and business partner, Alexander Plunket Greene. While she was somewhat diffident and reserved, he was a tall, charming, fun-loving aristocrat. He became a natural PR-man for Quant’s work.

‘Nobody said you can’t do it. We just did it.’

With £5000 that Plunket had inherited, and with financial advice from the entrepreneur Archie McNair, in 1955 Quant took a mortgage on a property on the King’s Road, Chelsea and opened her first boutique, Bazaar.

5. Risk It, Go for It

Bazaar was unlike the tired department stores and inaccessible designer shops of the time. The boutique had music, drinks and long hours for its customers’ convenience. It was also cramped and somewhat chaotic, with shoppers often changing on the shop-floor among packing cases.

‘Nobody said you’re not supposed to do it like that.’

The displays featured mannequins in quirky poses, which drew queues of curious young women and prompted angry bowler-hatted men to beat their fists on the windows.

'Risk it, go for it. Life always gives you another chance, another go at it. It's very important to take enormous risks.’

6. Design For People Like You

With her lean figure and short, geometric Vidal Sassoon bob, Quant embodied a youthful new style.

‘I just started making and designing clothes for people like me.’

She set about creating short, narrow, simple garments in an array of bright, bold colours and patterns. Shift dresses and pinafores, trousers, breeches and knickerbockers - clothes that promised comfort, fun and freedom of movement.

‘The clothes were very short and very simple. The shoes were very flat, so that you could run, dance, jump. All the clothes were very simple, but put together they had a very strong look.’

7. Be Inspired by Adjacent Worlds

Quant sought inspiration in the fashion worlds adjacent to womenswear.

'I liked masculine fabrics: Prince of Wales checks, city pinstripes and flannels - worn with black tights, flattish shoes.’

Trousers had for some time been worn by women in Hollywood and the services, and by students. But Quant popularised them for young females, introducing spotted cropped pants, breeches and dungarees. She also elongated men’s shirts into dresses and lengthened men’s cardigans.

‘Clothes are a statement about oneself or what one wants to be.’

The jumpers that she wore as a child prompted her to design skinny-rib sweaters. And her trips to the United States suggested the idea of ‘homewear’- special clothes for lounging in at home - 'underwear as outerwear.'

‘I hated fashion the way it was. I wanted clothes to be far more casual and easygoing and yet still sexy.’

8. Be inspired By Your Audience

'I liked my skirts short because I wanted to run and catch the bus to get to work.’

Skirts had been getting shorter since the 1950s, and the designer André Courrèges took them above the knee in the early ‘60s. But it was Quant who made the miniskirt mainstream, naming it after her favourite make of car.

Male Interviewer: Few girls have the legs, hips and, above all, panache to carry it off majestically.

Quant: But who wants to be majestic?

Quant was keen to point out that the driving force behind this fashion revolution was the consumer herself: the liberated, working woman, the Chelsea Girl.

'It was the girls on the King's Road who invented the miniskirt. I was making easy, youthful, simple clothes, in which you could move, in which you could run and jump and we would make them the length the customer wanted. I wore them very short, and the customers would say, 'Shorter, shorter!’'

The convention in those days was for women to wear stockings, often in 'American Tan', held up by garters and suspender belts - all very fiddly and uncomfortable. As Quant cut her skirts shorter, so she promoted tights to go with them - in black, and in bright mustard, ginger and prune.

‘I think a revolution was going on which fashion people hadn’t realised. I think the change of focus had gone from the rich international couture thing to the young working girl. She was going to set the pace in fashion, decide what was right and what was wrong.’

9. Be Inspired by Technology

Quant also turned to the latest technology for ideas.

‘The modern look is sexy, pretty, polished and dry cleaned.’

Jersey, a material traditionally used in men’s underwear, had been adopted by Coco Chanel for daywear in the 1920s and ‘30s. Quant employed new synthetic fabrics like Crimplene and Acrilan, which could be mass-produced at low cost. Her jersey dresses came in numerous colours and shapes, with different collars, sleeves, zips and buttons.

‘Sometimes all ideas come from the technology and sometimes the other way round.’

Quant was also fascinated by the space-age possibilities afforded by polyvinyl chloride (PVC), ‘this super shiny man-made stuff and its shrieking colours.’ Her 1963 'Wet Collection' featured entirely PVC garments, combining functionality with striking visual effects.

'Fashion is not frivolous. It is a part of being alive today.’

10. Be Permanently Dissatisfied

As Quant grew more successful in the UK and abroad, she remained restless to invent new designs and explore new frontiers.

'Fashion is a very ongoing, renewing thing, about change and reaching for the next thing. You are permanently dissatisfied, and it's always got to get better.’

In particular, she became frustrated with the cosmetics that women were wearing with her clothes.

‘I got involved with make-up because now that the clothes were different, the face was wrong.’

Tired of the ornamental nature of incumbent products, and inspired by the more theatrical make-up employed by catwalk models, in 1966 Quant launched a cosmetics line of bold shades in a simple all-in-one paintbox package, and featuring her trademark daisy logo. 

‘I think the point of clothes for women should be: 1. that you’re noticed; 2. that you look sexy; and 3, that you feel good. I can’t see that we wear them to keep warm.’

11. Be Stubborn

As a female entrepreneur working in a still predominantly male environment, Quant had to endure a good deal of sexism. She was clearly incredibly resilient.

'The fashionable woman wears clothes. The clothes don’t wear her.’

In the documentary Quant tries to explain her vision for a new fragrance line to a sceptical male perfumier.

Quant: It seems to me that to be a woman now is a very schizophrenic situation… And I think this perverse schizophrenia is the mood I would like to arrive at.

Perfumier: Yes, I would agree entirely. But I think that to satisfy that you have to come up with two types of perfume.

Quant (Impatient): But it’s the same woman!

12. Retain Creative Control

As Quant’s business expanded across the world, so did the pressure on her to keep producing new designs; to maintain the machine. 

'One of the things I've learned is never to hoard ideas, because either they are not so relevant or they've gone stale. Whatever it is, pour it out.’

Quant turned to licensing her brand to sustain its success.

‘Licensing allows you to extend your brand to new markets, new areas, new categories. Which can be very exciting for a brand. But it’s about control and it’s about a sense of understanding between the licensee and the licensor. That’s where you’ve got to get it right.’

Inevitably Quant did lose some of her creative control in these deals. In the documentary she complains that one of her commercial partners wants her to remove the pockets from a dress design.

'Well, you know, he’d like to get rid of these pockets all together. I think it makes the whole thing. And it’ll save him 10 pence.’

13. Live in the Future

'Most of my memories of the ‘60s are ones of optimism, high spirits and confidence.’

As the ‘60s drew to a close the mood changed from optimism about the future to one of disillusion and protest. Fashion turned to Bohemian and ethnic styles; to floaty dresses and flared, faded jeans. Quant’s modernism seemed less relevant.

'The whole 1960s thing was a ten-year running party, which was lovely. It started at the end of the 1950s and sort of faded a bit when it became muddled with flower power.’

Bazaar closed in 1969, and through the ‘70s and ‘80s Quant concentrated on household goods and make-up. In 2000 she resigned as director of Mary Quant Ltd after a Japanese buy-out. 

Mary Quant had anticipated the Swinging ‘60s and come to embody its lean, fun-loving, modernist attitudes. She had changed the way British women dressed and thought about clothes.

‘Fashion is all about change. And I’m designing for the future.’

As well as being a revolutionary designer and resolute businesswoman, Quant was articulate about the role of fashion in women’s lives.

‘Fashion is for now, not necessarily for teenagers... If you’re still enjoying living and you’re still enjoying being a woman and being sexy and being alive, then one wants surely to wear the clothes of today.’

I was particularly struck by the way she characterised ennui as a positive and productive force in consumer culture.

‘I think that a designer has to be someone who is permanently bored – permanently bored with the way people look at any particular time, wanting to live in the future, wanting to change things.’

Quant suggests a compelling challenge for creative people working in any industry: become bored before everyone else!

 

'I just don't know what to do with myself.
Don't know just what to do with myself.
I'm so used to doing everything with you,
Planning everything for two,
And now that we're through.

I just don't know what to do with my time.
I'm so lonesome for you it's a crime.
Going to a movie only makes me sad.
Parties make me feel as bad.
When I'm not with you
I just don't know what to do.

Like a summer rose
Needs the sun and rain,
I need your sweet love
To beat all the pain.’

Dusty Springfield, 'I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself’ (B Bacharach, H David)

No. 472

‘Kingdom of Dreams’: Learning from Luxury

‘The kingdom of dreams is this realm focused on creating fantasy, which was transformed into a global industry run by tycoons, who saw the value of these dreams and turned that into beautiful profits.’
Dana Thomas, fashion journalist and author of ‘Deluxe: How Luxury Lost its Lustre’

I recently watched a splendid documentary series about the luxury fashion business.

‘Kingdom of Dreams’ ( written by Peter Ettedgui with Nick Green) recounts the rise of Bernard Arnault and his LVMH group, comprising elite labels like Dior, Louis Vuitton and Givenchy; his employment of maverick talent - John Galliano, Alexander McQueen and Marc Jacobs - to head up those labels; and his rivalry with Francois Pinault’s Gucci group, Domenico de Sole and Tom Ford.

‘Who is not amused by fashion? And even businessmen must amuse themselves from time to time.’
Bernard Arnault

It’s a story of bold vision and fierce ambition; of financial feuds and creative competition; of phenomenal commercial and artistic success, and the collateral damage that came in its wake. There are lessons to be learned by anyone working in an ideas business.

‘These brands have extraordinary evocative power, which allows the whole world to dream.’
Bernard Arnault

Bernard Arnault - Chairman and Chief Executive, LVMH

1. Acquire, Consolidate and Grow

Bernard Arnault, born in Roubaix in 1949, had a bourgeois upbringing in provincial France. After graduating from university, he joined his father’s civil engineering company, rising to president in 1978. In 1984 he acquired Boussac Saint-Frères, a once prosperous textile and retail conglomerate that had fallen on hard times, but whose assets included legendary luxury brand Christian Dior. He stripped the business of its loss making companies and made 9,000 workers redundant, thereby acquiring his nickname, ‘The Terminator’.

‘To be successful you need to dream. You do not need to be a dreamer, but you need to dream. And when you dream you can do things that are impossible.’
Bernard Arnault

In the 1980s the French fashion houses were in disarray. Though their products retained exceptional craftsmanship, couture had a narrow appeal to a predominantly European and American elite, and the brands had grown sleepy and stale. Arnault had a vision of reviving the sector, giving it more dynamic leadership and a broader, global target market.

‘We try to build a large business with one criteria: the best quality and the most elitist product in every level, that we are selling throughout the world.’
Bernard Arnault

In 1987 Arnault followed up his acquisition of Dior by engineering the merger of Louis Vuitton with Moët Hennessy. He was on a mission to acquire, consolidate and grow.

‘My vision of the future is that in 10 years time from now there will be fewer and fewer brands and that they will give even more power to the brands on the market at that time.’
Bernard Arnault

2. Awaken Slumbering Brands with Creative Talent

Though Arnault was tough and financially astute, he was well aware that the fashion business was founded on, and fuelled by, creativity.

In 1994 John Galliano presented his ‘jet-black’ collection for his own label. Staged on a shoestring budget, models Kate Moss, Helena Christensen, Naomi Campbell and Linda Evangelista waived their regular fees to participate. In a dramatic show the Paris mansion of Portuguese socialite Sao Schlumberger was littered with dried leaves, red rose petals and discarded chandeliers. It became a legendary fashion moment.

‘I dare people to dream.’
John Galliano

John Galliano, Photograph: Jacques Brinon/AP

A year later Arnault appointed the young British-Gibraltarian as creative director of Givenchy.

Galliano set about researching Hubert de Givenchy’s work for Audrey Hepburn and Jackie Kennedy, and presented his first couture show for the house in 1996. He was a sensation from the start, reintroducing romance and theatre to the label. Arnault was so impressed that, later that same year, he transferred Galliano to Dior.

‘I think the key of success in a brand as famous as Dior… is to have such a level of creativity and inventiveness.’
Bernard Arnault

This left a vacancy at Givenchy, which Arnault promptly filled with another Brit, Alexander McQueen – a daring and provocative designer, renowned for his exquisite tailoring and historical themes.

‘I don’t beat around the bush when I do a show. I go straight for the jugular.’
Alexander McQueen

McQueen with Model © Salons Galahad Ltd

Then in 1997 Arnault chose American Marc Jacobs to lead Louis Vuitton. Jacobs promised to bring street style and musical inspiration to the world of high fashion.

‘I wanted to create a collection that was basically visual noise.’
Marc Jacobs

And so, in short order, a new cohort of gifted creative directors had been installed across the three major houses at LVMH.

‘I believe we have found the right designers for each brand.’
Bernard Arnault

3. Find Eyes and Ears

In making the critical initial selection of Galliano, Arnault had sought a fashion insider’s perspective, turning to Editor of American Vogue, Anna Wintour.

‘Obviously at the time it was a risk. But I was comforted by Anna about what [Galliano] could do, and finally I took the risk. She’s an eye. To have an eye is key.’
Bernard Arnault

As Arnault built his stable of luxury brands, Wintour continued to provide priceless expertise and insight.

‘I don’t think of myself as a boss. I think of myself as someone who’s giving direction, guidance. I try to be decisive even if I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.’
Anna Wintour

4. Make Noise

Arnault’s young creative directors were not all successful from the outset. McQueen’s first efforts for Givenchy were regarded as missteps. And in his first ready-to-wear collection for Louis Vuitton, Jacobs failed to present any bags.

‘I was a little bit – how shall I put it? – astonished, because there wasn’t a single bag in the first show.’
Bernard Arnault

But Arnault stuck with his choices. And to some extent what the designers were contributing was more precious than any particular collection. They introduced youth, energy and excitement.

 ‘It didn’t matter. That’s the whole point of it. It still made people talk. It was about making noise.’
Dana Thomas

Shalom Harlow being spray-painted by robots in the Alexander McQueen spring 1999 show

5. Encourage Constructive Rivalry

It could not have been easy housing so much creative talent under one corporate roof. But Arnault was happy to nurture a certain amount of constructive rivalry.

‘John’s more fluid and romantic. He has a great vision for romanticising his ideal woman. I think I really care about a woman’s independence. I don’t like her to look so naïve and so fragile. I like her to look stronger.’
Alexander McQueen

6. Have a Winning Instinct

In building the LVMH empire, Arnault attracted his critics. Many were concerned by his import of American-style corporate aggression to Europe; by his hostile takeovers and the swift removal of the luxury houses’ elderly family members.

‘I think he wants to be a wolf because he needs people to be afraid of him.’
Mimma Viglezio, Gucci

Certainly Arnault displayed a competitive streak, an absolute conviction that he must win at all times and at all costs.

‘Material things have never motivated me. What drives me is to make my company win. Making it the top company in the world, that’s what drives me above all.’
Bernard Arnault

7. Seize the Lucky Moments

Meanwhile in Milan the house of Gucci was beset by dysfunction: lawsuits, tax evasion and family feuds. In 1995 Maurizio Gucci was shot dead in the lobby of Gucci's Milan office.

Harvard educated Domenico de Sole had been legal adviser to the Gucci family since the 1980s and CEO since 1994. Facing corporate bankruptcy, he couldn’t afford a big name designer, and so promoted from within, appointing the relatively unknown head of knitwear, Tom Ford, as creative director.

‘In life being lucky is much better than being smart. Because as much as I thought Tom was terrific, I never imagined that he’d turn out to be a genius.’
Domenico de Sole

Elegant Texan Ford had not risen to the top by the conventional route. He graduated in architecture and his fashion career began as a PR at Chloé. After a couple of years designing for Perry Ellis, he decided to try his luck in Europe, taking a role at the struggling Gucci.

‘You have to be ready for those lucky moments to cross your path and you have to seize them.’
Tom Ford

Ford's Fall 1995 ready-to-wear collection for Gucci, with its metallic patent boots and velvet hipsters, unbuttoned satin shirts and sensuous ‘70s glamour, was a huge hit and earned the immediate endorsement of celebrities like Madonna.

‘The right thing at the right time is the right thing. The right thing at the wrong time is the wrong thing. So it’s got to be the thing that people want before they know they want it.’
Tom Ford

8. Find a Partner You Can Trust

‘You design, I run the company. It will be OK. At least we will give it a try.’
Domenico de Sole

The successful revival at Gucci was very much down to a happy partnership between commercial and creative expertise. Ford and de Sole understood that each had a different but crucial role. They respected each other.

‘He completely trusts me on the design side. Domenico I completely trust on the business side. And so in a sense we can work independently and together, which I think really makes us almost twice as strong as a lot of our competitors.’
Tom Ford 

Tom Ford and Domenico de Sole. Getty Images

9. Keep an Eye on Adjacent Opportunities

Another factor in Gucci’s success at this time was Ford’s decision to send every model down the runway carrying a Gucci bag. Handbags commanded high margins and became a booming business in their own right.

At a 1996 event in New York to mark Dior’s 50th anniversary, Galliano was commissioned to design a gown for Princess Diana. The midnight blue satin and lace sheath dress was not considered a success. Some wags dubbed it a ‘nightie.’ But the mini blue satin bag she carried was subsequently sold the world over.

Marc Jacobs had been struggling at Louis Vuitton. But in 2001 he partnered with graffiti artist Stephen Sprouse to reinvent the branding that appeared all over its luggage – a bold move that was wildly popular, and in one leap revitalised the label.

‘He gave it a youth, a modernity and a wonderful sense of fashion. And now everybody wants the luggage again. And they want the clothes.’
Anna Wintour

Clearly success in the luxury fashion business was about more than couture. One had to take a holistic view and keep an eye on adjacent opportunities.

10. Fight for Your Independence

In the wake of its revival, Gucci became one of the first European luxury houses to go public on the stock market. But this left it vulnerable to takeover. In particular it became a target for Arnault, who had been impressed by the brand’s renaissance and wanted Ford at LVMH.

‘I think Mr Ford is amazing. There’s no reason at all for him to be nervous… If you see him please do let him know.’
Bernard Arnault

Ford and de Santo were concerned about the prospect of Arnault’s assertive ownership and wanted to retain autonomy. They stalled by issuing shares to employees, and found themselves in a prolonged and very public court battle with Arnault as a result. At length they sought a ‘white knight’, a ‘friendly’ investor to save Gucci from a hostile takeover.

They found Francois Pinault - a tycoon who had built his fortune in distribution and then retail. Unable easily to internationalise his retail business, he saw in luxury goods an opportunity to go global.

‘There’s no greater risk than believing you’ve succeeded. It’s dangerous to rest on your laurels. You have to seek out new adventures, new businesses.’
Francois Pinault

Pinault was the opposite of Arnault in upbringing and style. Whereas Arnault had a bourgeois background, Pinault came from a modest rural French family, leaving school at 16 to work in his father’s lumber company. Whereas Arnault planned ahead and acted by stealth, Pinault tended to be instinctive and decisive.

‘I make quick judgements and my first impression is usually right.’
Francois Pinault

In 1999 Pinault purchased a controlling stake of the Gucci group for $3 billion and bought Yves Saint Laurent the same year. He followed up by purchasing Boucheron in 2000 and Balenciaga in 2001.

‘We’re looking for companies where we believe that our expertise could enhance the value of that company and thus enhance the value of Gucci group.’
Tom Ford

Arnault was not accustomed to losing. Confronted with the birth of a competitive luxury powerhouse, he fumed from the sidelines.

‘Now [Ford] has found a white knight. But you know, sometimes a white knight becomes a black knight. So we’ll see how long it lasts.’
Bernard Arnault

François-Henri Pinault. Jude Edginton

11. Put Creativity and Commerce in Harness

In this golden age for elite fashion brands, as the two luxury leviathans fought for dominance, they expanded across categories and geographies, pulling in new consumers who were united in their desire for status and beauty.

‘My goal is to create something that’s beautiful - something that’s so beautiful that people can’t live without it. And when you do that people buy it, it makes sales. And when you make sales, you make money. And that’s what my job is.’
Tom Ford

At their best the luxury groups harnessed creativity to commercial goals.

‘John [Galliano] is about pure creativity. But also he likes to do products that sell. Since he arrived sales have tripled. So what he does is really not only pure creativity, but also what the ladies, the consumers, want to wear.’
Bernard Arnault

If the creative directors continued to deliver designs that sold, then the business leaders, shareholders and investors were happy.

‘[Galliano] has absolutely carte blanche - as long as the business is going out, the business is booming. So he has carte blanche.’
Bernard Arnault

12. Beware: Things Fall Apart

However, the seemingly perfect marriage of commerce and creativity was flawed. Fundamentally the corporate chiefs did not share the same goals as their designers.

‘Bernard Arnault was extremely supportive of his star designers, and he really did believe in them. But his goals and their goals were different. For them money was the bi-product of their talent and their work and their dedication to their passion. For Arnault money was the goal.’
Dana Thomas

Gradually things fell apart.

Firstly the constructive rivalry at LVMH began to fracture. McQueen became frustrated with the smaller budgets that were available to him at Givenchy and with what he perceived as Arnault’s favouritism.

‘[Arnault’s] got great vision. But his vision of what I was like was the same vision as what John [Galliano] was like. Maybe John was more pliable than I was.’
Alexander McQueen

McQueen felt he was not valued.

‘You’ve got to feel the appreciation back. You can only keep on going on for so long.’
Alexander McQueen

So McQueen began saving his best ideas for his own label, raiding the Givenchy stores for fabrics and redirecting funds. And in 2000 he jumped the LVMH ship and joined Gucci group in a deal that enabled him to expand his own label. 

For a while McQueen thrived, becoming healthier and happier.

‘When I signed for Gucci I continually pushed myself to be stronger physically and mentally. And this is the outcome.’
Alexander McQueen 

However, as Ford and de Sole came to renew their contracts with Pinault, there was a falling out, and in 2004 they left the group.

‘Tom Ford and Domenico de Sole believed that Gucci belonged to them. They forgot that I was the biggest shareholder. They wanted to pursue an agenda I didn’t agree with. So one day I told Tom Ford: ‘You’re out.’ He just didn’t understand. He thought Gucci was his.’
Francois Pinault

Ford was devastated.

‘I all of a sudden felt lost. I felt: ‘What do I contribute to the world? What am I doing? Who am I? What is this?’ Because I had worked so hard for so long, and I didn’t really realise how it would feel when I no longer had that platform or that voice. And I felt quite lost.’
Tom Ford

With Ford and de Sole gone, McQueen was isolated. 

‘It can be really lonely. And I think there’s more to life than fashion. And I don’t want to be stuck in that bubble of ‘This is what I do.’ Because everyone in the office, they can go home and they can shut off. But I’m still Alexander McQueen after I shut the door.’
Alexander McQueen

In 2010, shortly after the death of his mother, McQueen took his own life. He was 40.

Meanwhile, over at LVMH, Galliano had increasingly struggled with the work pressures that came hand-in-hand with his accomplishments.

‘Along with the success came more collections. At that moment I was producing 32 collections a year between the House of Galliano and the House of Dior, and each collection would comprise up to a thousand pieces. The drinking did creep up on me.’
John Galliano

In the same year that McQueen died, a drunken Galliano was filmed in a Paris bar directing antisemitic slurs at a group of women. He was fired from Dior.

Jacobs too had issues with alcohol and substance abuse. 

‘I don’t deal with pressure too well. I go off my diet. I smoke twice as many cigarettes and I sometimes get a little angry, rude… I don’t think I deal with it so well.’
Marc Jacobs

Marc Jacobs

In 2013, after 16 years as artistic director at Louis Vuitton, Jacobs presented his last show for the label.

13. It’s Not What Brands Are, But What They Represent

The demise of McQueen, Galliano and Jacobs marked the end of the era of maverick creative directors at the luxury houses.

‘Super-strength designers were absolutely crucial to a particular phase of the luxury industry – which was building it up from being a name to being a brand. But once they had become real brands, they were businesses and therefore you could find people to work in that business who have creativity, but who are a bit less larger-than-life than some of these designers were at the time.’
Thomas Kamm, PPR

LVMH and Gucci group had driven a phenomenal period of growth and expansion in the luxury goods sector. But they had transformed it into a completely different business.

‘The frenzy for these logos - fuelled by celebrities, the billboards, the magazine ads, the commercials, the placement in movies, the logo-heavy marketing – switched the reason everyone had purchased these products in the first place from what they were – beautiful, handcrafted luxury items, rare, special – into what they represented – wealth, success, power.’
Dana Thomas

'It seems the Babylon dem
Come fight 'gainst I, 
Dem-a fight 'gainst I.
I wanna know the reason why.
Babylon fight 'gainst natty dread.
Babylon no fight 'gainst the rum head.
Babylon no fight 'gainst the wine head.
Only natty dreadlocks.
Natty dreadlock in a Babylon.’
Sylford Walker, ‘Burn Babylon’ (S Walker, J Gibson)

No. 408

Andre Leon Talley: ‘The Past Is Always in the Present’



André Leon Talley: Photo: Squire Fox/August

‘I don’t live for fashion. I live for beauty and style.’
Andre Leon Talley

On the death earlier this year of fashion journalist, editor and stylist Andre Leon Talley, I watched the 2017 documentary ‘The Gospel According to Andre’ (directed by Kate Novack).

'People need to be edited. Life needs to be edited. I need to be edited.'

Talley was a tastemaker, a raconteur, a permanent fixture at catwalk shows for more than four decades. He was the creative director of US Vogue, a close confidant of Yves Saint Laurent, Karl Lagerfeld and Paloma Picasso, a style consultant to Michelle Obama. He had an encyclopaedic knowledge of fashion history and he drew on an extraordinary breadth of cultural references. He was a rare Black man in a predominantly white world. 

‘Andre is one of the last of those great editors who know what they’re looking at, know what they’re seeing, know where it came from.’
Tom Ford
We can learn a great deal from Talley’s journey to the top of the fashion runway.

1. ‘You Can Be Aristocratic Without Having Been Born into an Aristocratic Family’

‘It was an amazing life based on narrative and anecdotes.’

Born in Washington DC in 1948, Talley was raised by his grandmother, Binnie Francis Davis, in Durham, North Carolina. Davis, for 50 years a cleaner at nearby Duke University, was a stylish woman with exacting standards.

‘My grandmother taught me about dignity and values and striving for excellence; rigour, discipline, maintenance; cleanliness next to godliness. It’s aristocratic in the highest sense of the word. You can be aristocratic without having been born into an aristocratic family.’

Highlight of the week for the young Talley was the fashion parade that he witnessed at his local church.

‘Going to church was the most important thing in life. Getting up and getting dressed to go to church on Sunday.’

Aged nine Talley discovered Vogue in the Durham public library. The magazine opened the door to a romantic world of elegance, taste and invention. He read it avidly, tore pages out and stuck them on his bedroom walls. 

‘My escape from reality was Vogue magazine…  It made me think about style, culture, poetry, music, beauty.’

Talley and Diana Ross dancing

2. ‘Success is the Best Revenge’

Growing up in the segregated South, racism was a daily reality. Talley remembered how at Jo Belles store in Durham only the Black women were asked to wear protective veils when they tried on the hats. On one occasion, walking to collect his copy of Vogue from a newsstand on the white side of town, he was pelted with stones by a group of students.

At all-Black Hillside High School, Talley was taught that ‘success is the best revenge.’

‘Excellence without an excuse.’
‘You couldn’t be good. You had to be better.’

Enchanted by the way chef Julia Child said ‘Bon appetit!’ on her TV cookery show, Talley gravitated towards French culture. He studied French Literature at North Carolina Central University and went on to earn a scholarship in the same subject at Brown University, where he graduated with a Masters in 1972. 

‘I knew I had to get out of Durham… Brown gave me a freedom, a liberation and propelled me into the world that I know.’

3. ’The Past Is Always In the Present'

While at Brown, Talley socialised with students from the Rhode Island School of Design and wrote about its vibrant fashion set for the college magazine. 

‘Luxury is in your mind.’

Through his new connections, in 1974 Talley attained an apprenticeship with Diana Vreeland, legendary former editor-in-chief at US Vogue, who was then curating exhibitions at the Metropolitan Museum Costume Institute. The two struck up a close rapport.

‘She taught me the language of clothes, the language of style.’

At the Costume Institute Talley learned that an understanding of history is the foundation for an understanding of fashion. In years to come his commentary on catwalk shows was embroidered with diverse references: Beau Brummell, Oscar Wilde and Lady Ottoline Morrell; Josephine Baker, Madame Gres, Visconti and Dorothy Dandridge; Tsarist Russia, Belle Epoque Paris and Swinging London. 

'I take my story with me wherever I go. The past is always in the present.'

Photo By PL Gould/ Getty Images

4. ‘Dare to Be Daring’

Soon Vreeland had secured Talley a receptionist’s job at Andy Warhol's Interview magazine. He found himself at the heart of ‘70s New York’s decadent social scene.

‘The word promiscuous doesn’t begin to touch it. We thought sex was good for you – like orange juice.’ 
Fran Lebowitz

Talley’s role at Interview gave him access to a galaxy of creative stars: Calvin Klein, Gianni Versace, Stephen Burrows, Anna Piaggi, Pat Cleveland.  

‘I was inspired by people who dared to be daring.’

5. ‘See the World through the Kaleidoscope Eyes of a Child’

In 1975 Talley interviewed Karl Lagerfeld and impressed the designer with his knowledge and research. He subsequently secured a job at Women's Wear Daily, becoming in 1978 its Paris bureau chief.

6ft 7in tall, poised and elegant, Talley cut a dash on the Paris scene. He made extravagant gestures and dressed flamboyantly in shorts, seersucker jackets, sable coats and fedora hats; pinstripe suits, silk scarves, turbans and trenchcoats.

Talley: Fashion should have more joie de vivre.
Interviewer: But why don’t we see it on the street?
Talley: Darling, it depends on which street you’re walking on…and what time of day it is.

Admitted to the inner circle of Yves Saint Laurent and fluent in the local language, Talley thrived in the French capital.

‘You have to see the world through the kaleidoscope eyes of a child and just be in awe of everything.’

6. ‘Make People Feel the Dream’

In 1983 Talley joined US Vogue where he soon established a decades-long partnership with editor-in-chief, Anna Wintour. He was promoted from news editor to creative editor to editor-at-large.

Wintour recognised the value of Talley’s familiarity with fashion heritage.

‘My fashion history is not so great, and his is impeccable, so I think I learnt a lot from him.'
Anna Wintour

Talley wrote articles, arranged shoots, brokered interviews and negotiated covers. He had an instinct for the zeitgeist and a natural ability to communicate his love of clothes to a broader public.

‘No one really needs another handbag or another sweater or another coat. It has to be emotional. And Andre could always make people feel that dream and feel that emotion.’
Anna Wintour

After his grandmother’s death in 1989 Talley struggled with his weight. He increasingly wore the theatrical capes and kaftans that became his trademark. In 2013 he finally left Vogue and withdrew to his home in White Plains.  Believing that he had been frozen out by Wintour - for being ‘too old, too overweight, too uncool’ - he hit back in a 2020 memoir, ‘The Chiffon Trenches’. He died of a heart attack aged 73.

‘You have to hydrate yourself with beauty and luxury and style.’

Andre Leon Talley rose to the top of his profession through prodigious talent and mental toughness. He was a luminous character - funny, intelligent and bold - a passionate advocate for the power of fashion to uplift the soul.

‘Voltaire says one must cultivate one’s own garden… You must cultivate your own aesthetic and your own universe. Create your own universe and share it with people you respect and love.’

Above all Talley teaches us that, even in the most cutting edge contemporary spheres of work and life, the past sheds light on the present. 

As author Michael Crichton has observed:
'If you don't know history, then you don't know anything. You are a leaf that doesn't know it is part of a tree.'

John Lamparski - Getty Images

'My mama told me, she said, "Son, please beware
There's this thing called love, and it's everywhere."
And she told me it can break your heart
And put you in misery. 
Since I met this little woman I feel it's happened to me,
And I'm tellin' you
It's too late to turn back now.
I believe, I believe, I believe I'm falling in love.
It's too late to turn back now
I believe, I believe, I believe I'm falling in love.’

The Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose, 'Too Late to Turn Back Now’ (E Cornileus)

No. 365

The Bias Cut: Halston and the Perils of Brand Extension

Photography © Dogwoof

‘I believe in our country, and I like America, and I want Americans to look good. And I’m an American designer and I want the opportunity to do it.’
Legendary US designer Halston, on signing a 5 year licensing deal with JC Penney

I recently saw a fascinating documentary about the American fashion legend, Halston (‘Halston' a film by Frédéric Tcheng). It’s the story of a designer who was instinctively in tune with his times, who rewrote the rule book, but who ultimately fell victim of his own success. It’s a story that teaches us a good deal about the perils of brand extension.

Roy Halston Frowick was born in Des Moines, Iowa in 1932. Having developed an early interest in sewing, he moved to Chicago, found work as a window dresser and enrolled in a night course at the Art Institute of Chicago. In 1953 he opened his own milliners business, which was quickly successful. Soon he was creating hats for the likes of Kim Novak, Gloria Swanson, Deborah Kerr and Hedda Hopper.

In 1957 Halston moved to New York where he was appointed head milliner for high-end department store Bergdorf Goodman. He gained wider celebrity by putting Jackie Kennedy in a pillbox hat for JFK’s 1961 inauguration. In 1968 he opened his first womenswear boutique on Madison Avenue.

‘I’m the all-time optimist and I like it right now.’

Halston in New York in 1980. Credit: SAUER Jean-Claude/Paris Match Archive/Paris Match via Getty Images

Halston’s style was right for the emancipated ‘70s. He was a minimalist and he began by stripping away what he saw as the unnecessary elements of female fashion: 

'All of the extra details that didn't work - bows that didn't tie, buttons that didn't button, zippers that didn't zip, wrap dresses that didn't wrap. I've always hated things that don't work.'

This resulted in clothes that were unstructured and unrestricted, relaxed and carefree - clothes more suited to times of liberation and social change.

Iman walks the runway in a Halston jersey dress in spring 1976, Pulse Magazine

‘He took away the cage, and he made things as though you didn’t really need the structure as much as you needed the woman.’
Pat Cleveland, Model, ‘Halston’

Halston favoured the bias cut: cutting cloth on the diagonal (at 45 degrees) rather than following the straight line of the weave. The technique caused the fabric to fall naturally over the body, creating sensuous curves and soft drapes. His clothes had a fluid functionality, elegance and ease. They were simple yet sophisticated, glamorous yet comfortable.

‘Fabric to Halston was like clay to a sculptor.’
Chris Royer, Model

Halston designed for the international jet-set, for professional women and the discotheque. He eroded the divide between womenswear and menswear, between night and day. He worked with soft silks, sequins and satin, with chiffon and ultra-suede. He produced hot pants and halter-tops; suits and shirtdresses; cutaways, kaftans and capes - all finished off with a flamboyant big belt.

‘You were free inside your clothes.’
Karen Bjornson, Model

Halston was a natural publicist. Subscribing to the view that ‘You’re only as good as who you dress,’ his boutique drew celebrity clients like Anjelica Huston, Lauren Bacall, Elizabeth Taylor and Liza Minnelli.

‘His clothes danced with you.’ 
Liza Minnelli 

Halston, bottom left, and models in his designs. Photographed by Duane Michals,Vogue, December 1, 1972

Halston brought a sense of theatre to everything he did. He turned up at events accompanied by an array of his favourite models, the Halstonettes. He styled the 1972 Coty Awards as a talent show, climaxing with ex-Warhol actor Pat Ast emerging dramatically from a cake. In 1977 he threw a 30th birthday party for Bianca Jagger at Studio 54. Sitting atop a white horse, she was led around the dance floor by a naked giant covered in gold glitter.

The Urge to Expand

Halston was driven by an ambition to move forward, to grow, to reach more people.

'I don’t quite know where I got my ambition but I have it. I go into things with an optimistic point of view and I look at it straight and try to make it the biggest and best success I can. But the thing that holds my interest always is MORE - what’s next, what’s going to be the next exciting thing?'

In 1973, in order to fund expansion, Halston sold his company to Norton Simon Inc, a conglomerate whose properties included Max Factor and Canada Dry. The deal afforded him huge financial backing and he remained principal designer with complete creative control.

Norton Simon felt they were buying instant access to fashion credibility.

‘We wanted a top perfume and he was the hottest thing around. I just wanted to buy the whole thing. Just to have him on board for his general knowledge of panache.’
David Mahony, President, Norton Simon Inc

The auspices seemed good, and Halston dealt confidently with anyone querying the wisdom of the sale. 

‘It’s rather like growing a tree. Everyone thinks that you’re an overnight success. I’ve worked very hard for 20 years, and you know it’s just a further extension of it. It’s another branch. And they all help each other in a curious way.’

The Honeymoon

In the early years the new corporate partnership went incredibly well.

At the legendary Battle of Versailles Fashion Show of 1973 Halston’s presentation, fronted by Liza Minelli and making extensive use of black models, put America at the forefront of the global fashion industry.

‘All that energy and that joy and that wonder and that curiosity. Well, that is America!’
Liza Minnelli

In 1975 Max Factor released Halston's first branded fragrance for women. With its distinctive teardrop bottle design by Elsa Peretti it was an immediate success.

Halston expanded his line to include menswear and cosmetics, homeware and handbags, shoes and sunglasses, luggage and lingerie. He designed the uniforms for the 1976 US Olympic team, for Braniff Airways and Avis, for the Martha Graham Dance Company and the US Girl Scouts. He created the gold outfits for Sly Stone’s 1974 wedding at Madison Square Garden.

Indeed everything Halston touched turned to gold. In 1978 he moved his headquarters to the 21st floor of Olympic Tower on Fifth Avenue. The offices were adorned in white orchids and every wall was covered floor-to-ceiling in mirrored glass. 

"Halstonettes" Pat Cleveland, Chris Royer, Alva Chinn and Karen Bjornson in 1980 - Photo, Dustin Pittman

The Cultural Tension

However, there were inevitably tensions between the corporate owners and the high-end fashion house. Prior to the launch of Halston’s fragrance, Max Factor executives complained about a bottle that couldn’t be filled from the top and branding that was limited to a ribbon round the pack.

In 1982 Halston signed a 5 year licensing deal with JC Penney, the archetypal mainstream department store. Halston was typically bullish about the move.

‘It’s really the third stage of my career. The first being in the millinery business, and then in fancy clothes and dressing all the stars… and now a larger public - dressing America really.’

The media talked about Halston moving ‘from class to mass.’ The President of Bergdorf Goodman deemed this a brand stretch too far and immediately delisted all Halston products from their stores.

Penney merchandisers began to complain that Halston’s working methods didn’t mesh well with their own.

‘He’s got to understand that we’ve got to commit like at least 8 months in advance. We need to get the approvals and the go-aheads and the concepts. But he’s so involved with everything that…the label took him months.’
JC Penney Merchandiser

The Troubled Genius

Halston was committed to retaining complete creative control as his business expanded. He refused to delegate.

‘I must be a part of it. I’ve never ever just leant my name for a commercial business venture.’

On the face of it, this was a good thing as it sustained quality through growth. But it also put incredible pressure on the man himself. He was overworked and stressed, tired and prone to panic attacks. Increasingly he turned to drugs to sustain him. He became a bully in the workplace, an aloof presence behind his signature black sunglasses. Deadlines slipped. 

‘It’s like quicksand. If everyone around you is going down, you’re going to go down too.’
Pat Cleveland, Model

The Decline and Fall

In 1983 Norton Simon was sold to Esmark, an even bigger conglomerate that included Playtex. Senior executives were immediately concerned by the wasteful practices and creative extravagances at Halston.

‘I’m at the top and I don’t care what’s happening in the engine-room. I know the engine-room isn’t running. And it wasn’t. Turn this into a brand. Turn this into something we can handle and stop having it be this airy fairy kind of ‘work when I want to, I’m not inspired, I’m an artist’ kind of thing.’
Walter Bregman, Playtex President

Halston’s MD took to placing ‘to-do’ notes on his desk every day. The relationship deteriorated. Halston came into work later and later. When at length he talked about leaving Esmark and starting out on his own again, he was quickly put back in his box.

‘You don’t own your own name, pal. Read the small print. We own your name.’
Walter Bregman, Playtex President

By this time Halston’s star was on the wane. Soon he was eclipsed by Calvin Klein and a new generation in fashion. In 1984 Halston was locked out of Olympic Tower, and a junior designer was given his role as creative director. Esmark sold off his samples and wiped all the tapes of his shows.

Halston retired to San Francisco and became a recluse. In 1990 he died of AIDS-related lung cancer, one month short of his 58th birthday. It was a sad and untimely end for a hugely talented and influential man. 

We always think a strong brand can comfortably extend into other areas of life. And often it can. And it goes on extending. And on and on. Until the elastic snaps.

'I'm in with the "in” crowd.
I go where the "in" crowd goes.
I'm in with the "in” crowd.
And I know what the "in" crowd knows.

I'm in with the "in” crowd.
I know every latest dance.
When you're in with "in" crowd
It's easy to find romance.’

Bryan Ferry, ’The ‘’In’’ Crowd (B Page)

No. 249