James Galanos Fans Are Serious Shoppers
They come and they gawk.
“That is divine,” they say.
“That is absolutely me. That is absolutely to die for. “
They look some more and study, and they say with good reason: “That dress is very Nancy Reagan.”
It is James Galanos Day at the Amen Wardy boutique in Newport Beach, a special day for all concerned.
The shop is filled to the rafters with lilies of the valley and fragrant gardenias. Cold-duck salad is served in the Venetian ballroom. And the designer, who makes only about half-a-dozen store appearances a year, arrives early in the morning. In his double-breasted suit, monogrammed shirt, tasteful gold cuff links and tasseled loafers he gives the models a once-over. One hundred or so handpicked “Galanos ladies” have been invited to view his fall collection.
That means there are no looky-loos in the store today. These are the serious shoppers, the women with the Hermes bags and Chanel pumps and chunky jewels. Perhaps they were married in a Galanos, or perhaps they bought Galanos back in the days when he was just Jimmy and not James.
Some of the women are new to the clothes, but they learn fast and buy them with the same ferocity and appreciation for quality and understated chic as the old faithfuls.
Galanos himself is a man of few words, yet women like to talk to him. One customer introduces herself and rattles on about how she had to start out buying Galanos on sale racks when her husband was starting his medical practice. Another apologizes for wearing a Trigere; her Galanos, she explains, is in the cleaners.
“I’m not much for all this,” admits the man who is considered America’s foremost fashion designer. “But one has to do it.”
A slight man with a fading suntan, his pink face is a reminder that a week ago he was sitting securely on a yacht in the Greek Isles. Even though he says he cannot swim, it is his favorite type of holiday and in recent years has become an annual event. Galanos, in his shorthand way of speaking, explains why: “No telephone.”
The designer says he prefers not to deal with the business demands of his fashion empire. He says he doesn’t know the price of his perfume or, for that matter, his furs.
“I’m not involved in pricing,” he says. “I just design.” (Prices for his clothes range from $2,000 to $10,000.)
Unlike some of his colleagues in the fashion industry, Galanos boasts that he doesn’t employ any “little gnomes” in his West Los Angeles workroom to sketch or style his lines. Everything that bears the black-and-white block-letter Galanos label is designed by him and him alone.
And the women who buy his clothes are appreciative.
During the show, they break out in applause for the black paillette jackets. They gasp at the plain yellow wool jersey gowns. They furiously take notes when they see the blue panne velvet gowns, both strapless and covered up.
“I have to buy the black dress,” Claudia Mirkin says as a gown with beaded net passes by. “I’m mad about it.”
“I don’t have to see another fashion show--I’ve got my whole fall wardrobe worked out,” Elsie Pollock says on her way out the door, pausing a moment to purchase a tiny jeweled handbag.
“How much is that little number?” another customer asks.
“Seventy-five hundred,” Amen Wardy replies. “And we sell them as if there’s no tomorrow.”
Although Amen Wardy houses the only Galanos salon in the country, the designer’s clothes are also available in Los Angeles at Neiman-Marcus, Suite 101 and I. Magnin.
