it's directly relevant to the NY fashion shows, so I post it here:
Who's the Coolest Kid At Fashion Week? Some Say the Stylist
Inspired by the 1999 movie "The Talented Mr. Ripley," designer Vera Wang wanted to capture the mood of American expatriates in 1950s Italy for her fall 2006 collection.
For advice, she called in a free-lance stylist named Lori Goldstein.
Ms. Goldstein, whose job it is to anticipate which way fashion's winds are blowing, was immediately alarmed by a jacket and a skirt that had big buttons. "As soon as I saw them I said, 'we can't show that,' " says Ms. Goldstein, who herself wears layered leggings, boots and frayed satin jackets. "All those buttons felt like the period, but they don't look modern, and no one is going to wear it with all those buttons."
Ms. Wang sent the garments back to be made with two buttons instead of six.
When her fall 2006 women's fashion collection is presented today, Ms. Wang will take a well-deserved bow. But some of the credit for how Ms. Wang's collection looks should go to Ms. Goldstein.
Operating in the background, stylists are becoming necessary accouterments for fashion designers. Top stylists -- many of whom put together editorial photo shoots in the pay of such magazines as Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, W and Elle -- are called in before fashion shows to help choose pieces for the runway, coordinate handbags and shoes and generally decide what looks good. For designers, they act as sounding boards and sometimes cheerleaders.
Ms. Goldstein, who also works for BCBG Max Azria in New York and for Nina Ricci in Paris, first looked in on Ms. Wang's collection in October, helping to select fabrics. When the first sample garments arrived in December, she dropped in again to see how things were going. In the past five days, she has been editing down the 70 outfits in the collection to about 45 -- discarding, among other things, two ball gowns and several full skirts that "looked too much like last season." She won't say how much she is paid.
She also helped choose 20 models and zeroed in on details like the shade of lipstick they will wear and a soft hairdo "hinting at the 1950s, without being too literal." Yesterday, she was shuffling stacks of Polaroid shots to determine the order and pacing of the show.
As with all stylists, Ms. Goldstein's greatest contribution to the fall collection is much more subtle: She knows what is cutting edge and what isn't.
"Designers want the cool person," explains Sally Singer, fashion news-features director at Vogue. "Part of a designer's cool can be validated by the stylist they use."
Although designers have always sought advice, whether it be from elegant customers, fashion models or magazine editors, such informal consultants never did a whole lot more than toss pearls and scarves on a model or roll up the sleeves of a blouse on the day of the show.
In the past few years -- as the job of fashion designer has gotten more complicated -- stylists have been in more demand. The best, who can earn as much as $8,000 a day, help designers create an image for product lines that now include handbags, shoes and watches. More important, these stylists -- who aren't to be confused with the people who dress celebrities -- can take the heat off of designers' busy schedules.
Designer Nanette Lepore, who operates boutiques in New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas and Tokyo, says she and her 14 design assistants are all but burned out trying to keep retail shelves stocked. So when the fashion shows roll around, Ms. Lepore relies on stylist Leah Levin.
"Leah will pick the styles she likes for the show, and she helps us limit our colors. We let her make the decisions," Ms. Lepore says.
Beyond their own good taste, many star stylists, with their ties to photographers, starlets, socialites and journalists, are big-time networkers. Much as lobbyists wield influence in Washington, stylists can curry favor with the magazines they work for and the fashion crowd they run with.
Fashion publicist Vanessa von Bismarck, who represents designer Richard Chai, says hiring Vogue free-lance stylist Jessica Diehl last fall provided a boost to the designer. Although he had done two shows in the past without a stylist, he got a lot of requests to borrow his samples for magazine features after Ms. Diehl first styled the collection last fall. One of Mr. Chai's dresses from last fall's show has since appeared in Vogue. Ms. Diehl says she had nothing to do with that shoot.
It is impossible to gauge how much Ms. Diehl had to do with Mr. Chai's getting more attention, Ms. von Bismarck says. But in the fashion world, where exclusive cliques reign, it isn't surprising. "It is more likely that people are interested in a designer after he has been endorsed by others," Ms. Diehl allows.
Vogue says it has a policy that only free-lance stylists under contract -- not full-time staffers -- are permitted to work for designers. Because fashion people "travel in packs" and often move between magazine and fashion-house jobs, Ms. Singer acknowledges that they collaborate and "make deals together."
She insists that even those relationships don't guarantee any designer a favored position in Vogue editorial spreads. "What gets shot in the magazine is what works from a trend and a story point of view," Ms. Singer says.
Some stylists become so indispensable that their job morphs into that of a designer, as was the case with stylist Venetia Scott, whom designer Marc Jacobs promoted to become the creative director of his casual Marc line. Indeed, some designers think stylists have accumulated too much power. German designer Wolfgang Joop, who will stage his Wunderkind fashion show today, isn't using a stylist this season. "The stylists have become too important in my eyes," Mr. Joop complains. "I am always fighting with my stylist." Last fall, his Italian stylist Daniela Paudice "came in one morning and wanted to rip the sleeves out of my amazingly beautiful dress," Mr. Joop says.
Ms. Paudice, who no longer works for Mr. Joop, was more interested in "being in the movement with the other stylists," he says, than in trying to work with the collection he designed. Ms. Paudice, through her own publicist, declined to comment.
Ms. Wang, who is famous for her bridal gowns and red carpet creations for such stars as Sharon Stone and Charlize Theron, first hired Ms. Goldstein in 2000. The 56-year-old designer, who has expanded into upscale daywear, china, fine jewelry and shoes, has become increasingly busy and relies on Ms. Goldstein's fresh eye. Ms. Wang may become even busier soon as she is in contract talks to take on an additional job with St. John Knits Inc. as its new creative director, people close to her company say. Ms. Wang declines to comment. "Having somebody who is out and about and doing shoots to be the devil's advocate here is great," Ms. Wang says.
Ms. Goldstein, 49, has always been obsessed by fashion. After high school, she began as a saleswoman in boutiques, first in her hometown of Cincinnati, and then at Fred Segal in Los Angeles and Fiorucci in New York. In the 1980s, she began styling clothes for catalogs and advertising shoots, before becoming a stylist for Vanity Fair photographer Annie Leibowitz and fashion photographer Steven Meisel.
Ms. Goldstein's signature styling flourish is "the unexpected way I put clothes together. I refused to do the full looks from one designer, and I started using a lot of jewelry and mixing things up," she says. "I can't stand when anything matches."
A big part of her job is saying no. Last year, Ms. Goldstein nixed a crocheted necklace of silver lace balls that Ms. Wang planned to use to accent a number of styles. As soon as she saw them, Ms. Goldstein recognized that they were similar to a necklace by Marc Jacobs that Ms. Goldstein herself had used in photo shoots. Ms. Wang relented. "I took them out of the show," the designer recalls.
Through her connections, Ms. Goldstein discovered early on that many designers would be embracing leggings and stretch pants this fall. That validated Ms. Wang's vow to be original with her fifties' look. "We heard everybody and his mother is doing the eighties," Ms. Wang says. "Thank god we aren't going there."
Who's the Coolest Kid At Fashion Week? Some Say the Stylist
Inspired by the 1999 movie "The Talented Mr. Ripley," designer Vera Wang wanted to capture the mood of American expatriates in 1950s Italy for her fall 2006 collection.
For advice, she called in a free-lance stylist named Lori Goldstein.
Ms. Goldstein, whose job it is to anticipate which way fashion's winds are blowing, was immediately alarmed by a jacket and a skirt that had big buttons. "As soon as I saw them I said, 'we can't show that,' " says Ms. Goldstein, who herself wears layered leggings, boots and frayed satin jackets. "All those buttons felt like the period, but they don't look modern, and no one is going to wear it with all those buttons."
Ms. Wang sent the garments back to be made with two buttons instead of six.
When her fall 2006 women's fashion collection is presented today, Ms. Wang will take a well-deserved bow. But some of the credit for how Ms. Wang's collection looks should go to Ms. Goldstein.
Operating in the background, stylists are becoming necessary accouterments for fashion designers. Top stylists -- many of whom put together editorial photo shoots in the pay of such magazines as Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, W and Elle -- are called in before fashion shows to help choose pieces for the runway, coordinate handbags and shoes and generally decide what looks good. For designers, they act as sounding boards and sometimes cheerleaders.
Ms. Goldstein, who also works for BCBG Max Azria in New York and for Nina Ricci in Paris, first looked in on Ms. Wang's collection in October, helping to select fabrics. When the first sample garments arrived in December, she dropped in again to see how things were going. In the past five days, she has been editing down the 70 outfits in the collection to about 45 -- discarding, among other things, two ball gowns and several full skirts that "looked too much like last season." She won't say how much she is paid.
She also helped choose 20 models and zeroed in on details like the shade of lipstick they will wear and a soft hairdo "hinting at the 1950s, without being too literal." Yesterday, she was shuffling stacks of Polaroid shots to determine the order and pacing of the show.
As with all stylists, Ms. Goldstein's greatest contribution to the fall collection is much more subtle: She knows what is cutting edge and what isn't.
"Designers want the cool person," explains Sally Singer, fashion news-features director at Vogue. "Part of a designer's cool can be validated by the stylist they use."
Although designers have always sought advice, whether it be from elegant customers, fashion models or magazine editors, such informal consultants never did a whole lot more than toss pearls and scarves on a model or roll up the sleeves of a blouse on the day of the show.
In the past few years -- as the job of fashion designer has gotten more complicated -- stylists have been in more demand. The best, who can earn as much as $8,000 a day, help designers create an image for product lines that now include handbags, shoes and watches. More important, these stylists -- who aren't to be confused with the people who dress celebrities -- can take the heat off of designers' busy schedules.
Designer Nanette Lepore, who operates boutiques in New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas and Tokyo, says she and her 14 design assistants are all but burned out trying to keep retail shelves stocked. So when the fashion shows roll around, Ms. Lepore relies on stylist Leah Levin.
"Leah will pick the styles she likes for the show, and she helps us limit our colors. We let her make the decisions," Ms. Lepore says.
Beyond their own good taste, many star stylists, with their ties to photographers, starlets, socialites and journalists, are big-time networkers. Much as lobbyists wield influence in Washington, stylists can curry favor with the magazines they work for and the fashion crowd they run with.
Fashion publicist Vanessa von Bismarck, who represents designer Richard Chai, says hiring Vogue free-lance stylist Jessica Diehl last fall provided a boost to the designer. Although he had done two shows in the past without a stylist, he got a lot of requests to borrow his samples for magazine features after Ms. Diehl first styled the collection last fall. One of Mr. Chai's dresses from last fall's show has since appeared in Vogue. Ms. Diehl says she had nothing to do with that shoot.
It is impossible to gauge how much Ms. Diehl had to do with Mr. Chai's getting more attention, Ms. von Bismarck says. But in the fashion world, where exclusive cliques reign, it isn't surprising. "It is more likely that people are interested in a designer after he has been endorsed by others," Ms. Diehl allows.
Vogue says it has a policy that only free-lance stylists under contract -- not full-time staffers -- are permitted to work for designers. Because fashion people "travel in packs" and often move between magazine and fashion-house jobs, Ms. Singer acknowledges that they collaborate and "make deals together."
She insists that even those relationships don't guarantee any designer a favored position in Vogue editorial spreads. "What gets shot in the magazine is what works from a trend and a story point of view," Ms. Singer says.
Some stylists become so indispensable that their job morphs into that of a designer, as was the case with stylist Venetia Scott, whom designer Marc Jacobs promoted to become the creative director of his casual Marc line. Indeed, some designers think stylists have accumulated too much power. German designer Wolfgang Joop, who will stage his Wunderkind fashion show today, isn't using a stylist this season. "The stylists have become too important in my eyes," Mr. Joop complains. "I am always fighting with my stylist." Last fall, his Italian stylist Daniela Paudice "came in one morning and wanted to rip the sleeves out of my amazingly beautiful dress," Mr. Joop says.
Ms. Paudice, who no longer works for Mr. Joop, was more interested in "being in the movement with the other stylists," he says, than in trying to work with the collection he designed. Ms. Paudice, through her own publicist, declined to comment.
Ms. Wang, who is famous for her bridal gowns and red carpet creations for such stars as Sharon Stone and Charlize Theron, first hired Ms. Goldstein in 2000. The 56-year-old designer, who has expanded into upscale daywear, china, fine jewelry and shoes, has become increasingly busy and relies on Ms. Goldstein's fresh eye. Ms. Wang may become even busier soon as she is in contract talks to take on an additional job with St. John Knits Inc. as its new creative director, people close to her company say. Ms. Wang declines to comment. "Having somebody who is out and about and doing shoots to be the devil's advocate here is great," Ms. Wang says.
Ms. Goldstein, 49, has always been obsessed by fashion. After high school, she began as a saleswoman in boutiques, first in her hometown of Cincinnati, and then at Fred Segal in Los Angeles and Fiorucci in New York. In the 1980s, she began styling clothes for catalogs and advertising shoots, before becoming a stylist for Vanity Fair photographer Annie Leibowitz and fashion photographer Steven Meisel.
Ms. Goldstein's signature styling flourish is "the unexpected way I put clothes together. I refused to do the full looks from one designer, and I started using a lot of jewelry and mixing things up," she says. "I can't stand when anything matches."
A big part of her job is saying no. Last year, Ms. Goldstein nixed a crocheted necklace of silver lace balls that Ms. Wang planned to use to accent a number of styles. As soon as she saw them, Ms. Goldstein recognized that they were similar to a necklace by Marc Jacobs that Ms. Goldstein herself had used in photo shoots. Ms. Wang relented. "I took them out of the show," the designer recalls.
Through her connections, Ms. Goldstein discovered early on that many designers would be embracing leggings and stretch pants this fall. That validated Ms. Wang's vow to be original with her fifties' look. "We heard everybody and his mother is doing the eighties," Ms. Wang says. "Thank god we aren't going there."
lori...
