Fabrice Has a Good Bead on What’s Hot
YES, THE VISITOR IN white socks told a saleswoman at Neiman-Marcus, he would be happy to meet with the customer any time during the day. No, an appointment would not be necessary.
The night before, the Haitian-born fashion designer known as Fabrice watched Whitney Houston and Luther Vandross parade his designs on the Grammy Awards.
The New York-based designer, who introduced his first collection of trademark-beaded dresses in 1980, has come a long way fast. His clothes are worn by society matrons and rock stars. He also designs shirts, jackets and suits on demand for the occasional male customer who likes his clothes to sparkle.
In a business that has built-in obsolescence, Fabrice has come up with a design concept so simple that it seems revolutionary. While he updates his collections every season--this spring he incorporates beads in big, pink taffeta party dresses--he also continues to sell the very same dresses he created when he first started out.
“Doesn’t it look new to you?” he asks, gesturing toward an early beaded graffiti dress with a jagged hemline. “It’s timeless.”
Furthermore, women who bought a beaded dress in 1980 will find that its value has increased, he explains. A dress that sold for $2,000 then, now carries a price tag of $2,600.
With prices of up to $8,000 for a fully beaded gown, Fabrice concedes that his creations are “more art oriented than fashion oriented. I don’t consider myself part of the fashion industry,” he says. “I don’t just follow. I do exactly what I think is right.”
ALTHOUGH HIS PRICES FALL in an entirely different galaxy from Fabrice’s, David Weinstein, owner of the CP Shades stores in Santa Monica and, most recently, Beverly Hills, also refuses to toss out the old just to make way for the new.
“Too often you like something and you go back to the store to buy another and they’ve stopped making it,” he says.
His philosophy: “You’re never going to see a style from us that knocks you out. T-shirts have sleeves. In the winter, they’re long. In the summer, they’re short.”
To understand the concept, one must understand Weinstein, who is a walking, talking cultural throwback to the ‘60s. The long-haired, San Francisco retailer-designer-conceptualizer tosses out phrases such as “positive energy” and “life-style approach.”
“If anything, we try to stress our integrity,” he rhapsodizes in the sun-bleached Beverly Hills boutique, one of four around the country, where he sells men’s, women’s and children’s T-shirts and elastic-waist pants and skirts in natural fabrics, all tagged from $35 to $70.
Comfort is paramount; so is color. Although styles seldom change, the clothes are first made in white and are dyed afterward to respond quickly to color trends.
“If you turn your head, you can miss a movement,” he explains. Nevertheless, for women, pink is the best-selling color 12 months a year.
Why?
“It feels good,” Weinstein says.
RALPH DESTINO,president of Cartier, in Los Angeles last week for the introduction of Cartier’s new china, silver and crystal collection, reports that the firm will be bidding on all 87 Cartier pieces from the collection of the duchess of Windsor when they’re auctioned by Sotheby’s next month in Geneva.
“We’ll be there with deep pockets,” said Destino, who wants the pieces for the company’s archives.
Of particular interest are the duchess’ six “wonderful” panther pieces--two bracelets, three broaches and one necklace.
Indeed, panthers, a Cartier trademark since 1927, show up in two of the new china designs. Panthers, Destino explains, have “style, grace, fluidity, beauty and a certain kind of femininity.” Even on dinner plates.
IT WAS LIKE Acoming-of-age party for Organically Grown, the Los Angeles manufacturer of junior-size clothing. Approaching its 15th year in business, with an annual sales volume of $100 million, there was a lot to celebrate.
President Steven Abrams invited 350 friends, employees and customers to dinner at the Beverly Hills Hotel, because, he quipped, “it’s tough to fit 350 people in your house.”
The cost of the party was “less than a billboard,” Abrams added, “and I’m going to enjoy it more.”
As Abrams worked the room, he asked people: “When was the last time you wore jeans and felt good about them?” It turned out he was introducing a new denim line called S.O.U.T.H., a label prominently displayed on the goods. It was so named, Abrams explained enthusiastically, so customers in the southeastern states, where Organically Grown does its largest business, could identify.
