NYTimes just published a long article in the Business section about the Kohls/Vera Wang partnership. it's really interesting and informative, and i think it's very balanced and smart about the possible business pitfalls of the partnership, as well as the advantages for both. i am still really curious to see the clothes myself - i have a feeling that i will be picking up a few pieces. also, i know a few people here are really into that gold brocade skirt...the article says it will be produced in limited quantities and will be sold for $68. i think what it will boil down to are the designs, to be honest, and the price. also, i can't tell if this is to get NEW customers in the store or if it is to expand what their existing customers buy...
anyway, here's the article, i hope it isn't too long, i'll post it in halves:
June 17, 2007
Can You Be Too Fashionable?
By
ERIC WILSON and
MICHAEL BARBARO
STANDING with her back to a room full of
Kohl’s department store executives in a Manhattan studio, Vera Wang reviewed prototypes from an exclusive new collection of mainstream fashion that Kohl’s plans to sell under her name. “This is all black,” said Ms. Wang, dismissively. “Black is very ’90s.”
Later, Julie Gardner, a marketing executive for the Kohl’s chain, described the meeting as an epiphany of sorts — a moment when she realized that much of what she had assumed to be fashionable was, in fact, out of date. “We were hanging on her every word,” Ms. Gardner recalled. “We all looked down and we were all wearing black from head to toe.”
Kohl’s, based in the pastoral haven of Menomonee Falls, Wis., is a retailer that sells clothes to the masses, a far cry from the trendy New York image of Ms. Wang, who is best known as a designer of exquisite — and often very expensive — bridal gowns. So aesthetic tension is to be expected. But with its introduction of Ms. Wang’s new cut-rate collections coming in September, Kohl’s has been uncommonly deferential on matters of style to someone more accustomed to Madison Avenue boutiques than suburban strip malls.
Even so, as it tries to recast itself as a department store that offers not only affordable fashion but a dash of style as well, Kohl’s intends to make Ms. Wang the public face of its reinvention. For her part, Ms. Wang says that her relationship with Kohl’s is more than a marriage of convenience. Like many successful entrepreneurs before her, she has reached a crossroads: her business has grown so rapidly and in so many directions that she lacks the resources — especially cash — to keep expanding it on her own.
“I know actors always say, ‘I’m just grateful that I get to continue doing what I love most,’ but for actors their tool is themselves and their talent — designers need a lot more help,” Ms. Wang says. “We need money. We need infrastructure, design talent, promotional budgets. We need a lot more to play in the sandbox, so to speak. Because of that, every decision I have ever made has been motivated by staying alive and keeping the doors open with the employees that I have.
“I’m not being overly dramatic,” she adds. “I’m being really truthful.”
Given the disastrous performance over the last year of
Wal-Mart Stores’ version of inexpensive designer fashion — with a collection called “George M.E.” by the lesser-known designer Mark Eisen — the union of Kohl’s and Ms. Wang is a gamble. But democratized style and cheap chic peddled by famous names has already found a successful niche, whether it’s
Martha Stewart at Kmart or
Isaac Mizrahi at
Target. Long lines for the latest
Karl Lagerfeld, Stella McCartney or Viktor & Rolf designs at H&M, or Vivienne Westwood shoes for Nine West at Macy’s, or for offerings from budding designers making clothes for
Gap and Uniqlo, have helped midmarket stores increase sales and gain more cachet with consumers.
On the other hand, there have been notable blunders besides that at Wal-Mart, which said its weakness in fashion had crimped its recent sales. Kohl’s itself made a modest attempt to move away from its classic looks four years ago, but customers balked at designs like moose-themed shirts. Sales of its new cosmetic lines by
Estée Lauder, repackaged as “American Beauty” in Kohl’s stores, have disappointed analysts.
By making a long-term commitment to Kohl’s, Ms. Wang may be navigating even more dangerous waters. Many high-end designers fear that creating mass collections undermines their prestige among affluent customers, a worry rooted in the classic example of the downfall of Halston, the designer of sexy jersey gowns for the Studio 54 set: in the 1980’s, luxury retailers dropped his collection after Halston signed a deal for a cheaper line with
J. C. Penney.
But Kohl’s and Ms. Wang are plowing ahead — boldly so, by the look of their collection. Called “Simply Vera — Vera Wang,” it includes the designer’s high-end signatures (or what fashionistas politely call “directional” designs), which may be challenging for a broader audience. Among the offerings are an inky black jacquard bubble skirt with an elasticized hem ($98), a charcoal knit cap the size of a chef’s toque ($25) and an ash-colored ribbed wool coat with short sleeves ($128).
A short-sleeve coat? At Kohl’s? Well, yes, says Kevin Mansell, Kohl’s president.
“When we launch these brands, often there are questions either on the investor or media side of ‘How do you know it’s going to be good?’ ” he says. “They say, ‘Vera Wang at Kohl’s seems more of a stretch,’ ‘It’s the next step up’ and ‘Why do you feel so confident?’ The reason is, we do a ton of research.”
As negotiations over a deal with Ms. Wang stretched out over more than a year, Kohl’s surveyed consumers about their perceptions of the designer and their expectations for the proper price and quality of her collections. “This is not like putting up dartboards, throwing darts and seeing which ones stick,” Mr. Mansell says. “This is really based on quantitative research.”
For Ms. Wang, however, it is also about something much more personal.
“This is more about keeping my business going so I can continue to do what I love most,” she says.
AT 57, Vera Wang has worked in the fashion industry for 37 years — longer if you count her college summers as a sales associate at Yves Saint Laurent on Madison Avenue — first as an assistant and an editor at Vogue magazine and then as an accessories designer for
Ralph Lauren. She started her signature company in 1990.
She grew up in Manhattan, in an apartment on an expensive block of the Upper East Side. There, her father, C. C. Wang, the son of a former war minister under Chiang Kai-shek, who made a fortune in pharmaceutical sales to China, discouraged her from pursuing a fashion career. After studying at
Sarah Lawrence College in Yonkers, N.Y., and at the Sorbonne in Paris, Ms. Wang asked her father to allow her to take fashion courses in New York, but he refused. “He said, ‘If you really think you’re that good, go get a job.’ And I did; I went to Vogue,” she recalls.
In her late 30s, Ms. Wang went to work for Mr. Lauren and discovered that she loved to design. When she spotted a woman carrying a plaid tote she had made, Ms. Wang said she started “jumping up and down.” At 40, she married Arthur Becker, a technology executive. Only then, sensing that Ms. Wang had demonstrated that her interest in fashion was sincere, did her father agree to finance her own fashion collection — with the condition that she design bridal dresses.
“What I haven’t said before is that when my father suggested that I go into the bridal business, I had lost that desire really to go off on my own by then,” says Ms. Wang, whose father died in September. “This had been a dream for me since I lived in Paris, but my father wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t pay for it. He wouldn’t help me. I had been in the business 21 years by then.”
But once Ms. Wang got started, she quickly made her mark. She became widely known in the 1990’s for modernizing bridal design, which had traditionally been dominated by billowing poufs and antique lace and ignored by serious designers. Sharon Stone and
Mariah Carey have been among the brides in Ms. Wang’s gowns, the most elaborate of which can cost $15,000 to $30,000.
Jennifer Lopez ordered a Vera Wang dress, but never wore it, during her derailed engagement to the actor
Ben Affleck, then borrowed another for her marriage to the singer Marc Anthony in 2004.
Ms. Wang’s frequent television appearances, often commenting on red-carpet fashion, as well as heavy magazine coverage of celebrities wearing her gowns, made her a household name and made her designs synonymous with stylish weddings. She developed the core of her bridal business with slightly less expensive dresses — the simplest currently start at around $3,000 — and a lucrative roster of licensed products like china, crystal and bedding that are geared toward bridal registries.
Last year, she says, products bearing her name, including a successful fragrance, had retail sales of $300 million (although Ms. Wang receives only a small fraction of that amount, probably in the range of 5 to 10 percent, through royalties). But her real passion, on which she has focused for the last four years, is women’s fashion — apart from bridal.
Her nonbridal aesthetic may best be described as ballerina grunge. She is fond of intentionally frayed hems and raw edges, and complicated silhouettes of slim bodysuits worn under oversized layers of heavy knits. A professional ice skater as a child, Ms. Wang later developed passions for art, dance and ballet that routinely influence her work, with colors that are almost always rendered in muddy, somber shades — in contrast with the cheerier bridal designs that she felt had handcuffed her creatively. She once designed an entire collection around the theme of the raw, down-and-dirty HBO Western series “Deadwood.”
Ms. Wang says that her more recent fashion endeavors have been much more expensive for her to finance and support than her bridal line — it costs her about $10 million a year to finance just the fashion line — and that is what led her into Kohl’s arms. Sitting at a conference table in her design studio on 39th Street, near Seventh Avenue, wearing a jacket with inverted pleats on capped sleeves, she speaks pragmatically about that decision: the risk of devaluing her trademark was outweighed by the resources and business expertise that Kohl’s brings to the partnership.
“I didn’t spend 20 years going to Harvard Business School and then
Morgan Stanley,” she says. “I spent 20 years styling clothes.”
From a branding perspective, Ms. Wang has much at stake. In a recent survey of 1,500 consumers with an average net worth of $3 million, the Luxury Institute, a research firm that tracks designer brands, found that the exclusivity of Ms. Wang’s name was tied with Hermès — a fashion house so prestigious that only its best customers are invited to the seasonal sales that female customers covet. (The survey did not take Ms. Wang’s deal with Kohl’s into account).
“She has been very focused on the high end for a long time, so it actually concerns me that she is doing a Mizrahi,” says Milton Pedraza, the chief executive of the Luxury Institute. “It may not affect the prestige of Vera Wang, but if you’re a betting person, if a brand becomes ubiquitous, how exclusive can it be?”