A Guide to Quality, Taste and Style by Tim Gunn, Kate Maloney Page A
Authors: Tim Gunn, Kate Maloney
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often an ethnic component to the look. A bohemian standby to avoid is the fringed silk shawl that only pianos should wear. While ethnic is great, folkloric is to be avoided. The idea is eclectic, not travelogue.
This world is wide, so feel free to venture into it with as little as an arm full of bangles—or both arms full of bangles . . . and your antler hat.
LES DOYENNES
Deeda Blair—Pauline de Rothchild—Lee Radziwell
Doyennes are not born doyennes. They ascend to this status of quality, taste, and style. Doyennes are haughty, monied, attenuated, and of the highest rank. When speaking about such nobility, one has to reach beyond theclothes, because it is the context embracing the doyenne that offers the full picture.
Owing to the Washington, D.C., roots of one of us, we must pay homage to a Mrs. William McCormack Blair Jr. Though she was an undisputed society leader who presided over one of the grandest salons in the nation’s capital, she was also Vice President of the Lasker Foundation. This was no mere lady who lunches. *
What was particularly fascinating about Mrs. Blair was her hair. It was the biggest ’do ever, complete with Cruella De Vil coloring, but it was stunning, not ridiculous. In her heydey, she was the
ne plus ultra
of D.C. glamour and sophistication, even during the 1,000 glamour-embossed Kennedy days. Forgive us for speaking about Mrs. Blair in the past tense. We know that she remains active and visible: We just saw her in a society column that described her arrival at a benefit being accompanied by a European royal. In the corresponding photograph, she appears infinitely more regal than her titled escort. It’s not just her beautiful clothes and impeccable grooming; it’s her carriage. Mrs. Blair’s posture is Vreeland-like—ramrod straight. But she’s never stiff. She glides across a room as if powered by a small engine under her feet.
Grace Mirabella, who reigned for seventeen years at
Vogue
and later launched
Mirabella
, has said Mrs. Blair would seek her counsel about the couture collections: “What do you think about this dress, Grace?” Yes, Mrs.Blair was one of the few reliable supporters of couture, but for every30,000 dress she bought, she would donate ten times that amount to a charitable organization. From the House of Dior to the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, people genuflect to her. That’s a remarkable achievement.
Pauline de Rothchild was born Pauline Potter in the doyenne-hatching town of Baltimore (also the birthplace of the Duchess of Windsor, and Nancy Lancaster of Colefax and Fowler fame), Ms. Potter headed north to New York and landed a position at Hattie Carnegie. Her superb breeding and finishing-school education prepared her well for the social circles into which she would ascend.
When she worked professionally, Ms. Potter was always clad in a suit: a high-waisted pencil skirt with a shrunken jacket, thereby accentuating her height (she was always the tallest woman in the room), her slim figure, and her aristocratic carriage. After becoming the Baroness de Rothchild, her clothing became quite flamboyant (something fierce was hiding under that demure suit). And she was never a fashion victim; that is, she was a self-stylist who mixed unlikely prints and wore mink-lined trench coats (a first) with ballet flats to the opera.
Lee Radziwill, “The Princess” before her divorce, was the more tightly wound of the Bouvier sisters. She is the only one of our doyennes whom we suspect would creak with every movement of her meticulously sculpted jacket or dress. If we attribute “girly” to Pauline de Rothchild, then “deftly tailored” is appropriate for Lee Radziwill. With the exception of a lace veil, she’s seldom seen inanything other than suits, A-line sheaths, and capri pants. Neither her grooming nor her clothes are ever anything other than perfect. While these characteristics can be intimidating, they account for
This world is wide, so feel free to venture into it with as little as an arm full of bangles—or both arms full of bangles . . . and your antler hat.
LES DOYENNES
Deeda Blair—Pauline de Rothchild—Lee Radziwell
Doyennes are not born doyennes. They ascend to this status of quality, taste, and style. Doyennes are haughty, monied, attenuated, and of the highest rank. When speaking about such nobility, one has to reach beyond theclothes, because it is the context embracing the doyenne that offers the full picture.
Owing to the Washington, D.C., roots of one of us, we must pay homage to a Mrs. William McCormack Blair Jr. Though she was an undisputed society leader who presided over one of the grandest salons in the nation’s capital, she was also Vice President of the Lasker Foundation. This was no mere lady who lunches. *
What was particularly fascinating about Mrs. Blair was her hair. It was the biggest ’do ever, complete with Cruella De Vil coloring, but it was stunning, not ridiculous. In her heydey, she was the
ne plus ultra
of D.C. glamour and sophistication, even during the 1,000 glamour-embossed Kennedy days. Forgive us for speaking about Mrs. Blair in the past tense. We know that she remains active and visible: We just saw her in a society column that described her arrival at a benefit being accompanied by a European royal. In the corresponding photograph, she appears infinitely more regal than her titled escort. It’s not just her beautiful clothes and impeccable grooming; it’s her carriage. Mrs. Blair’s posture is Vreeland-like—ramrod straight. But she’s never stiff. She glides across a room as if powered by a small engine under her feet.
Grace Mirabella, who reigned for seventeen years at
Vogue
and later launched
Mirabella
, has said Mrs. Blair would seek her counsel about the couture collections: “What do you think about this dress, Grace?” Yes, Mrs.Blair was one of the few reliable supporters of couture, but for every30,000 dress she bought, she would donate ten times that amount to a charitable organization. From the House of Dior to the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, people genuflect to her. That’s a remarkable achievement.
Pauline de Rothchild was born Pauline Potter in the doyenne-hatching town of Baltimore (also the birthplace of the Duchess of Windsor, and Nancy Lancaster of Colefax and Fowler fame), Ms. Potter headed north to New York and landed a position at Hattie Carnegie. Her superb breeding and finishing-school education prepared her well for the social circles into which she would ascend.
When she worked professionally, Ms. Potter was always clad in a suit: a high-waisted pencil skirt with a shrunken jacket, thereby accentuating her height (she was always the tallest woman in the room), her slim figure, and her aristocratic carriage. After becoming the Baroness de Rothchild, her clothing became quite flamboyant (something fierce was hiding under that demure suit). And she was never a fashion victim; that is, she was a self-stylist who mixed unlikely prints and wore mink-lined trench coats (a first) with ballet flats to the opera.
Lee Radziwill, “The Princess” before her divorce, was the more tightly wound of the Bouvier sisters. She is the only one of our doyennes whom we suspect would creak with every movement of her meticulously sculpted jacket or dress. If we attribute “girly” to Pauline de Rothchild, then “deftly tailored” is appropriate for Lee Radziwill. With the exception of a lace veil, she’s seldom seen inanything other than suits, A-line sheaths, and capri pants. Neither her grooming nor her clothes are ever anything other than perfect. While these characteristics can be intimidating, they account for
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