[KhaoticKharma]

Part III

M.Fredric, a chain of 25 clothing stores in Southern California, carries William Rast, codesigned by Justin Timberlake, and the R Line by Ryan Seacrest. The store seeks out celebrity lines not because of the name on the label, says co-owner Fred Levine, but because celebrities often make good designers. “They are creative people to begin with, and they travel around the world, so they see fashion in Asia, Africa, and Australia,” he says. “Their ideas are fresh and open because they’re not insiders in the garment industry.”
In February sales representatives for Harajuku Lovers—one for the adult line and one for the children’s—bring samples to the Mediterranean-style house in Agoura Hills that serves as M.Fredric headquarters. As the reps unload duffel bags in the conference room, Levine jokes with his sister, Mardi, and his wife, Lisa, who own M.Fredric with him: “I guess Gwen would be here today, but she’s busy having a sonogram.” (The pop star is due to have a second child this summer.)
“We’re hoping for a girl,” says Shayna Masino, the children’s rep. She spreads out garments on the floor. Some have skulls and others have the word fatal (from the tag line), two things a traditional children’s company would avoid and that Stefani had to persuade Jerry Leigh executives to agree to. Both sold well.
The rep for the adult line, Tina Bernardi, hangs preppy, athletic, and Hawaiian-inspired garments on a rack. She holds up a horizontal-striped polo shirt with a heart appliqué. “I know you didn’t like this before,” she says to Levine, “but Gwen wears a polo in the Hewlett-Packard commercial.” Levine taps on a keyboard, calling up sales records on a wall-mounted screen. “When I first saw the line, I didn’t buy it,” he says. “It was too radical and extreme. But I tested it, and it flew out.”
Stefani doesn’t promote Harajuku Lovers in person. “We asked, and the answer was a flat no,” Levine says with a smile. But Stefani wears items from the line in public and used its name for a concert tour and a fragrance and a limited-edition digital camera. She was filmed for the HP commercial, still viewable on YouTube, walking through the Harajuku District of Tokyo. This is celebrity licensing 2.0, in which the star is a globe-trotting creative director who cross-promotes the line in ways unimaginable a decade ago.
Lauren Conrad, whose clothing line is not licensed, helps sell it piece by piece. In February she flew from a trade show in New York to one in Las Vegas. In her small, bare-bones booth set up to show samples and write store orders, she is facing the corner, changing her clothes. It’s a moment MTV might have loved for The Hills, except the network is not taping Conrad working on this endeavor. Even for reality TV, it’s too meta. Now outfitted in a green shirt and a black miniskirt, she is accessorized with dainty necklaces, rings, and bracelets. Her makeup is lip gloss and black eyeliner, and her hair is in her signature straight style with two locks rolled into a sort of headband. “I love trade shows because the spring collection is getting into stores and I get to hear feedback,” Conrad says. Chelso Blackwell, who owns a boutique in Whitefish, Montana, looks over dresses and tops in solid colors and floral and butterfly prints. “I didn’t watch the show, but my girlfriend did, and she adores Lauren,” she says. “So I came by.”
Conrad gently tugs at the fabric of a top and says, “It’s stretch, so it has give. It’s not so tight.” Blackwell buys 12 dresses, 4 shirts, and 16 skirts.
The name most associated with celebrity fashion design is Jaclyn Smith. Her licensed collections take in a reported $300 million a year for Kmart. The trade paper Women’s Wear Daily calls it one of the most recognized sportswear brands, on par with the Gap. Launched in 1985, after Smith left the TV series Charlie’s Angels, the collection has been around so long that secondhand pieces sell in vintage stores, where hipsters have started buying them for their kitsch value. On an April visit to a Kmart, cheap-looking velour tunics from the line marked down to $3.99 hung near chic linen sleeveless dresses with braided belts going for $29.99.
Kmart was hoping to upgrade its apparel offerings when it proposed the licensing deal to Smith. “At first I turned it down,” Smith says on the set of her Bravo show, Shear Genius. “I was under contract with Max Factor at the time and they said, ‘Don’t do it,’ that it wasn’t in my image. But I met with Kmart and was fascinated with what I saw.” What she saw was what every celebrity designer says is the core of her line: a quality product at a reasonable price. Smith communicates regularly with the store’s in-house design team and has an assistant who makes sketches. “When I said I wanted to put in a black suit, they said, ‘Whoa, we only do pastels,’ ” Smith says. “It was all sort of foufou, and I wanted more tailored, classic clothes.”
The Jaclyn Smith line has found a market that seems insatiable. The chain has recently increased promotions for it and added new categories such as handbags and jewelry, and it devotes up to 25 percent of its stores’ apparel real estate to it.
Wal-Mart has a similarly evergreen line, Mary-Kate and Ashley. The clothing for preteen girls debuted in 2000, and though the Olsen twins have grown up, DVDs of their movies and reruns of their TV show Full House have extended their influence on girls’ fashion choices. The staying power of this label taught other celebrities a lesson: Think niche, get rich. Victoria Beckham limited her dVb brand to premium jeans and sunglasses; Elizabeth Hurley Beach, a swimwear company, trades on the actress’s famous figure. Apple Bottoms jeans for full-figured women, by rapper Nelly, are a hit at Macy’s. “First it was about Nelly and the name,” says Simone Tolifson. “Now people just want the fit and the jeans.” It doesn’t hurt, she adds, that songs on the radio name-check the brand.