The Fashionista Files (23 page)

TECHNICAL EXPERTISE

In addition to casual phrases, per above, it’s vital to be fluent in scientific terminology of fashion. We recommend investing in
The
Fairchild Dictionary of Fashion.
In the meantime, memorize these:

A-line: Shape that starts narrow and flares away from the body in the form of the letter A. Originated by Christian Dior in 1955.

Asymmetrical: Not symmetrical. Like that New Wave haircut you sported in tenth grade, where your bangs were long on one side and your head was shaved on the other. Typically applied to hem lengths and sleeves. Fashionistas love skirts and tops that are asymmetrical. Think one-shouldered tops and flirty dresses that skim the knee on one leg and the ankle on the other.

Bouffant: Full-skirted dress shape whereby the bodice is fitted and the skirt is ruffled, poofy, or full. Can also be used to describe a big, OTT hairstyle, in vogue in the middle of the twentieth century.

Cape: Style of outerwear that’s sleeveless. The fabric is cut in a full circle. There are usually arm slits and an opening in the front. Capelet is a petite cape that looks great over evening gowns or a tank and jeans.

Chandelier earrings: Large earrings that drape much like crystal chandeliers. A fashionista favorite, right up there with the hoop and door-knocker shapes. For the record, stiletto earrings hang straight down, mimicking a long skinny stiletto heel.

Charlotte: A type of hat that has a very dramatic and large brim with lace ruffling around the edge. Very demure, feminine, country club, and—not surprisingly—the type of thing the character Charlotte would wear on HBO’s
Sex and the City
.

Chignon: An elegant hairstyle whereby a knot or bun sits at the nape of the neck or high on the head.

Clutch: Not the small vertical thing that resides next to the gas pedal of a five-speed automobile. It’s a sophisticated handbag style with no straps. Looks like an oversize wallet. An extra-long clutch is called an “envelope clutch” because it is reminiscent of an envelope.

Cowl: A collar style involving fabric that drapes in a circular style.

Cut on the bias: Originally made famous by Madame Gres, legendary French couture designer from the thirties. Cutting against the grain, rather than on the seams, so the garment moves easily, accentuates a woman’s curves, and has, as John Galliano once said, the effect of making a dress become “like oily water, running through your fingers.” A very flattering style for anyone size zero to sixteen.

Edwardian: A style of clothing (fitted frock or suit coats, which are double-breasted, stiff-collared, and knee-length) that refers to the period between 1901 to 1910, when Edward VII was the king of England. Modern designers use fabrics such as denim to update the Edwardian frock coat.

Empire waist: Named after the Napoleonic Empire’s Queen Josephine, who liked her dress to have a tight bustline and a freeflowing body. Essentially a shapeless frock that’s popular during pregnancy and looks good only on those with pixieish frames. Unless you look like Gwynnie, don’t try this at home!

Fedora: Hat with medium-size brim and a high crown with a crease that travels from front to back. Fabulous with suits and masculine yet sexy looks. A chic way to mask a bad-hair day.

Felt: Not the past tense of
feel.
A kind of fabric made by packing wool and hair fibers together by way of heat and steam. A very comfortable and soft textile that works well as slippers, pants, and even rugs. (During one of the photo shoots for this book, Jean-Claude, our Dachshund puppy model, made a number two on Karen’s felt rug. She was not pleased.)

Fisherman knit: Chunky hand-knit sweater, typically in natural earth tones, with cables and fancy stitching. Be warned: It pulls easily.

Funnel neck: An oversize collar that stands straight up and away from the face and may or may not have buttons, hook-and-eye closures, or zippers. Great for blocking wind or hiding from an ex you spot walking across the street with someone new. That bastard! How dare he get over you!

Gladiator sandal: A flat sandal that has crossing straps that hold the sole to the foot and one wide strap around the ankle (may also lace up the calf). Great for very tall or slim-legged women in the summertime.

Jersey: Not the smelly area south of New York (Karen’s from there!), but a clingy knitted, flat fabric that is great for dresses.

Mandarin collar: A short collar that stands up to only an inch or so above the collarbone. Unless they’re Chinese, we do not like seeing men wear shirts with Mandarin collars.

Maxi: While typically used to describe a coat that is ankle-length, it can also be used to describe a skirt length (also to the ankle).

Peplum: Anything that flares from the bodice (waist). Can be found attached to a belt and on jackets and button-down shirts (very 1950s Dior).

Petticoat: Not a coat that gossips with other coats, but a ruffled-up crinoline skirt that is worn underneath another skirt in order to provide a bouncy, full effect. Originally worn in the sixteenth century. Fashionistas wear them as is—with tank tops, denim jackets, and heels.

Poor-boy sweater: Ribbed pull-on knit sweater with a crew or turtleneck. Very Faye Dunaway in
Bonnie and Clyde
(see Chapter Seven anecdote by Karen).

RTW: Acronym for ready-to-wear, which are garments that are made so that they’re ready to wear. Do not rent the Robert Altman film of the same title. It is a very poor illustration of the fashion industry and a disappointment to cinema and fashion aficionados.

Ruching: Drapery wherein the fabric is folded many times over to add layering and visual interest. It is actually created by sewing through the center of pleating. Looks like a ruffled ripple effect. Ruching down the center of a top (between cleavage) is a good way to help enhance your waistline—or make it look like you have one.

Schmata: Yiddish word for
rag,
often used to describe a yucky piece of clothing. “What are you wearing that schmata for?”

Shantung: Silk textile with irregular strips of fabric emerging from the surface. Often mimicked in rayon and cotton.

Shawl: A wrap, larger than a scarf, that drapes over the shoulders in a pretty, dramatic, old-world fashion. Very big in India.

Sheath dress: Straight fitted dress that hugs the body just so. Jackie O wore many. Not to be confused with the shift dress, which, while straight, hangs away from the body.

Shirtdress: A dress that looks a lot like a long button-down shirt. Often made sexy by pairing it with knee-high boots and a smart fedora.

Shortie: Contrary to hip-hop slang, in which
shortie
typically means
hot girl,
it is actually a cropped, boxy jacket style originally popular in the thirties.

Tartan: A plaid fabric. Worth a note: Different styles of plaids represent clans of Scottish heritage. Burberry has files of such tartans, and one can custom-order a kilt of kinship.

Trompe l’oeil: Pronounced “trump loy,” it actually means
fool
the eye
and refers to a garment—pants, top, dress, coat—that has the image of buttons, a tie, a pearl necklace, or some kind of detail that isn’t actually there. Mel’s favorite T-shirt is a
trompe l’oeil
Chloe that appears to have a collar, buttons, and tie.

Victorian: A romantic style of blouse with ruffles, puffed sleeves, lace trim, and sometimes corsetlike lacing, named after the period from 1837 to 1901, when Queen Victoria was in charge. Refer to Merchant Ivory mainstays, like
Sense and Sensibility
and
A
Room with a View.

Yarmulke: A little hat worn by Jewish men. The Orthodox wear it all day, while others only for religious ceremonies. Karen’s parents had red-and-purple leather “yarmies,” as they’re often nicknamed, for her bat mitzvah.

Zoot suit: Men’s style of suit from the forties, marked by a high waist, pleated pants that were tapered at the ankle, and an extra-long coat with wide lapels. Good for swing dancing and costume parties. Also looks cool with a pocket watch.

SOPHISTICATED ACCENTS!

Now that you have your vocabulary skills, we must work on these tongue-twisting pronunciations. Without the proper inflections and intonations, you will, regardless of what you say, look very JV (a nightmare for a fashionista). Your lessons, below.

French designers whose names end with “on” should be pronounced as “uhhh,” as in “Louis Vuittuuuhhhh.” “Martine Sitbuuuhhh.” Warning: Don’t try this with “French Connectiuuuhhh”!

French words that end in “ier” are pronounced “eee-ay” with a strong
a
sound. For example,
atelier
is not “ateleer” or “atel-l-eerrr,” but rather “ah-tell-eee-ay.”

Issey Miyake is said like this: “i-(soft
i
as in “it”)-say mee-yahke.” Not Issey as in the sound that rhymes with
sissy.

Versace: “Verr-sah-chie,” not “Ver-says” or “Ver-say-sss.” Refer to the poignant scene in the fashionista favorite bad film of all time,
Showgirls,
when Elizabeth Berkeley mispronounces the name of the prestigious Italian designer label. Of course, her character is meant to, which is the whole irony of the scene. But still.

The design label Loewe is not “low,” but rather, “low-ev-ay.”

Designer Moschino is pronounced “mo-ski-no,” not “moshee-no.”

Hermès is not “her-meeez.” It’s “air-mez” with a hard s
i
that sounds like a
z
.

Gaultier is “go-tee-ay.” Not “gaul-teer.”

Italian words with “gn” in them (example: Zegna) are pronounced like the Spanish “nyuh” sound, as in “ñ.” So Zegna is said like this: “zen-yuh.”

Byblos is “bee-blow-s.”

Gianfranco Ferré is said with a heavy accent over the last
e
such that it sounds like “ferr-ay.”

Etro is pronounced “ay-tro.”

Cesare Paciotti, the shoe designer, is said like this: “chay-sahray pah-chee-oh-tee.”

Nicolas Ghesquière is “Nee-ko-lah Ges-queer.”

Manolo Blahnik is often mispronounced, and one should be punished severely for that! The proper way is “muh-no-low blahnick.”

Francophiling mainstream American products is totally acceptable, especially when done with a touch of sarcasm. For example, fashionistas like to pronounce Target as “Tar-zjay” in the French style, to give it an upscale little spin. The second syllable is pronounced in the same way as “Zsa Zsa” Gabor’s first name and rhymes with tray.

ICONOGRAPHY

Ode to Tom Ford (Gucci, 1994–2004)
A LETTER FROM YOUR TWO BIGGEST FANS

Dear Tom,

We are devastated that you’re leaving Gucci and YSL. We are not stalkers. But we are obsessed with you.
Obsessed!
You are a genius, with an eye for fashion that will go down in history. When all is said and done, you have contributed more to the industry than any designer. For centuries, people will be talking about your creations, your art form, your all-black über-sleek aesthetic and business sense. You are a living legend, an icon of all icons. And that ad campaign with models who waxed their nether regions in the shape of a G? Good Lord! Fabulous!
J’adore!

What you have done for the house of Gucci is ground-breaking. You took it from the brink of death and turned it into a multibillion-dollar behemoth, based on your vision of what is sexy and cool. You single-handedly turned the logo Gucci bag from faux pas to must, must, must. And you have had such a serious impact on our wardrobes, hence, our lives. We have become collectors of your pieces and catalog your most influential and noteworthy designs, from marabou shrugs and corset dresses in bloodred to hand-embroidered kimonos with sleeves that skim the floor, crystal-encrusted dresses with plunging necklines, thigh-high studded boots, and snakeskin-print pants.

It was 1995 when we first fell for you. You were just a boy with a dream then. And as Gucci was about to plummet into the obscurity of fashion past, you resurrected the brand name by taking over as creative director and sending streamlined midnight-blue bootleg velvet pants and liquidy silken turquoise blouses, unbuttoned to the navel, down the runway, along with patent go-go boots with toggles across the toes. We were smitten. So was everyone, actually. It was a newsmaking moment. “Gucci lives” cooed editors around the world.

We are not sure how we’ll handle your departure. We don’t know who could possibly fill your square-toed shiny shoes. And we’re not sure if we’ll ever be able to wear Gucci again. But we will forever treasure our relationship with you—and the blue satin skintight skirts, silver slingback heels, bias-cut dresses, and fringe-trimmed ponchos we wear in your honor. We’ll miss you, Tom.

Much love,
M and K

DESIGNER DEITIES

Every fashionista must be familiar with the important designers of yesteryear who have made fashion history. Here’s your crash course:

Alix Gres (pronounced “Gray”). The French couturiere, originally a sculptor, began her career in the thirties under the name Alix Barton. During World War II, her business was shut down and she reopened it using her married name, Gres, after the war. Known for her craftsmanship, Grecian jersey gowns with crisscross belts, heavy drapery, bias-cut caftans, and bat-wing sleeves, she approached design as a true artist, focused on craftsmanship, shape, and form. Also known simply as Madame Gres.

André Courrèges. Probably one of the most significant designers of the sixties, this is the man who made the swing coat, the little mod dress, the space-age look, and functional, architectural, simple silhouettes cool. Remembered for his all-white collections, minidresses with squared lines, tunics over skinny pants, flat Nancy Sinatra boots, industrial zippers, knee socks, and giant floral appliqués, he was the quintessential man of the mod cloth. Marc Jacobs’s fall/winter 2003 line was very Courrèges, which was often worn by Jackie O.

Coco Chanel. She revolutionized fashion. She began as a milliner in the early 1900s (her shop was financed by her lover) and by the twenties grew to become one of the most important couturieres. She is responsible for introducing jersey to high fashion and is the one who gave birth to the little black dress, sportswear, including short skirts, relaxed silhouettes, boyish flapper dresses, and pants for women (gasp!), a reaction to and probably indictment against the buttoned-up, corseted looks that restricted women’s bodies. She was the originator of the Chanel look—quilted bags, lots of pearls and chains, the twinset, the wool suits with highly embellished details, gardenia pins, and slingback pumps. Chanel No. 5 was the first perfume to assume a designer’s name. She was ahead of her time, though she closed her shop during World War I and relaunched her business during World War II. She became a very controversial figure due to her high-profile relations with a Nazi officer. She hated all forms of establishment, however. One of five children whose mother died at a young age, Chanel grew up impoverished and made a living at a young age as a cabaret singer before designing clothing, which she did because she couldn’t find anything that she really wanted to wear. She was also the mistress of many wealthy men. A true Renaissance woman, she died in her chichi quarters at the Ritz Hotel in Paris. The only way to go.

Cristobal Balenciaga. He got his design start at the ripe age of fourteen, when he made a suit for a rich
marquesa.
It got such rave reviews that the young boy left home to make it on his own in the design world. By the time he was thirty-two, he had his own thriving business in Paris, creating the crème de la crème de couture for the crème de la crème de society. He was known as the “master” for the immaculate way he cut, sewed, fitted, and designed a garment, and is credited with popularizing dramatic gowns, semifit jackets, cocoon coats, balloon shirts, flamencoinspired evening looks (he was Spanish, after all), and the pillbox hat. Today, design prodigy Nicolas Ghesquière heads up the fashion design house, which was resurrected in the early 2000s.

Emilio Pucci. Born to nobility in Italy in 1914, Pucci was a bon vivant—an Olympic skier, a fighter pilot, a designer, and a politician. He became popular in the sixties and was known as the mod genius, the purveyor of ultragraphic, boldly designed swirling prints that burst with fluorescent color. The jet set loved his clothes—all groovy dresses and little pants—and eventually his label grew to an empire that included leather goods, stationery, accessories, linens, lingerie. His vintage originals are collectibles, and recently his line was reborn under the creative control of Emilio’s daughter, who has given new life to his signature art. Did we mention he was also a winemaker?

James Galanos. In the middle of the twentieth century, Galanos became a hit with high-society ladies (who would never lunch!) for his exquisitely detailed, highly constructed evening gowns and cocktail dresses of heavenly silk crepe, divine beading, chiffon coats over luscious silk sheaths, and glorious flowing frocks. Remember the yellow vintage strapless number Renée Zellweger wore to some film premiere—and launched her to instant style icon status? It was a Galanos, purchased at Lily et Cie, as per the Shopping chapter. Nancy Reagan was his most famous client and wore a Galanos gown to her husband’s inaugural ball.

Ossie Clark. In the sixties and seventies in the arty experimental scene of London, Ossie was a cult designer, discovered by British
Vogue
magazine. He designed with his wife, textile artist and muse Celia Birtwell, and together they lived a life as bubbly, party-filled, stylish, and extraordinary as the clothes they created, which were worn by rock stars (Mick Jagger) and models (Twiggy). He was big into snakeskin, cascading luxury fabrics full of life, and charmingly vivid and girly prints, immaculate tailoring, sharp trousers, flowing, loose-fitting coats and ruffled tops, mod A-line dresses and shifts, appliqués, and swinging silhouettes that were flirty and feminine yet strong.

Roy Halston Frowick. Known simply as Halston, this dashing man, a fashion institution in the sixties and seventies, practically created the formula for simple classics, invented American style (cashmere dresses, sweaters over the shoulders, slinky chiffon jersey dresses), studied casual, and sexy gowns and dresses that were often worn at Studio 54, where the designer was known to linger into the late night with Warhol, Liza, Bianca Jagger, and Calvin Klein. A big entertainer, he was also famous for his lavishly cool Manhattan pad and being the ultimate in hosts. In the early eighties he sort of fell out of favor (could have been the line he designed for JCPenney, which is ironic, because today something like that is a successful business strategy and a way of funneling in millions to design houses) and eventually went out of business. The line was relaunched with various designers, including Randolph Duke, and is (at the time of publication) spearheaded by Bradley Bayou, whose dresses make a splash at the Oscars every season. Collect Halston originals from the seventies if possible.

Yves Saint Laurent. The fashion world was aghast when Yves Saint Laurent (pronounced “eves saint luh-rauuhhh”) announced his retirement in early 2002. His fashion career began as a seventeen-year-old boy, when he worked for design legend Christian Dior. After four years, he wound up taking over, and by 1961 he branched out and launched his own label, which focused on haute couture (for socialites and starlets) and an RTW collection that blurred the gender lines by bringing pantsuits into the mainstream and introducing the smoking jacket. He was also a staple in the Studio 54 club scene and famous for his oversize glasses, which he was almost never seen without.

Elsa Schiaparelli. A surrealist in the world of high fashion. She collaborated with Salvador Dalí, Jean Cocteau, and Alberto Giacometti. Elsa was born of Italian nobility. She was an innovator, who, together with Coco Chanel, dominated fashion between the two world wars. Most famous for her trompe l’oeil sweaters and the pink suit Jackie Kennedy wore the day of the assassination. (Most people think it was a Chanel; it was actually a Schiaparelli.) Grandmother to Marisa Berenson, the famous model and Studio 54 party girl.

Bonnie Cashin. Her casual designs helped popularize sportswear and the layered look. Her designs included the “dog leash” skirt, ponchos, and roomy turtlenecks. One of the original designers for Coach, she created the oversize “pocketbooks” that have been knocked off by everyone from Marc Jacobs to Prada to Nine West.

Claude Montana. He was born in 1949 in Paris to a German mother and Catalonian (Spanish) father. At an early age he traveled to London (1971) and began his career by designing papiermâché jewelry encrusted with rhinestones. He made his name by designing sexy leather motorcycle jackets that were must-haves in the 1980s. He designed haute couture for the House of Lanvin from 1990 to 1992, but was booted when his designs were considered too bold for the more traditional Lanvin customer. Montana, who greatly admired Madame Gres (1910–1993) as a couturiere, specialized in strong colors, monochromatic fabrics, and lots of leather and wool. His classic and structural pantsuits feature razor-sharp tailoring and strong silhouettes with dramatic proportions. Our idols, Simon Le Bon and Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran, wore his jackets in the eighties.

Norman Norell. Norman David Levinson, born in Noblesville, Indiana, changed his name to Norman Norell after moving from New York to study fashion illustration at the Parson’s School of Design. He worked briefly as a costume designer for the Astoria Studio of Paramount Pictures at age twenty-two. For the next thirty-one years, Norell led American fashion. In 1960, Norell’s name alone appeared on the label when he became the sole owner of his company. Norell became known for his understated simple wool dresses with a high, round neckline, sequined cocktail dresses, and sailor motifs. His classic clothes were worn by his clients, such as actress Greer Garson, with a great devotion to the Norell aesthetic.