How the stars pick designers to suit their personal style

Press, 25 January 1986, Page 14

How the stars pick designers to suit their personal style

But for a platinum credit card . . .

Women with the pick of the world’s best clothes often adhere to just one designer. The Queen favours Norman Hartnell, French actress Catherine Deneuve (chosen by her Government as a symbol of ideal womanhood) wears classic, Yves Saint Laurent The Princess of Wales is now facing increasing criticism for restricting her fashion force to the work of a favoured few.

Audrey Hepburn has been the muse, and was once the model, of Hubert de Givenchy. Her elfin looks stand out in his severely simple styles. Their association was so close that he created the perfume, “L’lnterdit” in her honour.

Giorgio Armani has used the actress, Charlotte Rampling, to advertise his structured sportswear. Model-turned-singer-turned-actress, Grace Jones, has been photographed wrapped in the hooded grace of Azzedine Alaia.

Aside from the advantages of mutual promotion, why do these women who could have anything limit their range? When faced with couture collectibles in Australia recently I got an inkling. One quickly becomes blase and selective about the exclusive stock of boutiques in Double Bay and Sydney’s North Shore. Figgins Diorama in Melbourne has gathered the best in one designer department store, yet it is surprisingly easy to just glance though much of it Although budget immediately limits desire, so

too does personal taste. Tailored lines may appeal to one customer but to another pall beside the fluidity of, say Issey Miyake. Designers impose not just cut, but also personality, on their creations. Women respond by matching the designer to the style they feel at ease with, or wish to project. At Figgins, the impeccable elegance of Emanuel Ungaro impressed, Claude Montana’s fine wools were layered in textural wonder, and the silks of Yves Saint Laurent’s Rive Gauche collection dazzled in jewel colours.

None of those masterful skills, however, offered enough enticement to the fitting room. Gianni Versace’s mannish looks tempted, but his

cut was too lean'for me. Miyake’s cotton knit, fully-cut swimwear appealed, as did his sweatshirts with external elbow and shoulder pads in black rubber. Anne-Marie Beretta showed daring, combining black vinyl, tartan-lined, in a classic trenchcoat

I marvelled at Jean Paul Gaultier’s knits — the chainmail-like weight of cotton and metallic threads shot green and purple. His clever cutting details revealed wit and wearability. A simple shirt slashed between the shoulders and centre-back draped over paper-bag waist trousers. The urchin cheek was offset by ribbed rayon in colours not street-worn, but streetwise. Gingham bodices skirted gaucherie.

This enfant terrible of French fashion, a darling of the London art-school scene from which he trades ideas, learned his craft at the couture houses of Cardin and Patou. It shows. His might be fun fashion, but there is enough skill to temper with time.

Alaia, winner of last year’s Golden Thimble, confirmed his standing with body conscious knits. Womanly, rather than feminine, with boldly de- ; fined hiplines, his is cur- < vaceous cladding for the self-assured.

, Figgins Diorama’s only drawback for me was that unlike the soon-to-be Mrs John McEnroe, Tatum O’Neal, (who liked the Gaultier too) I didn’t have a platinum American Express card.