Disney Characters Dressed to Express Fun and Fantasy

As vice president of costuming for Disney’s theme parks and resorts, Bob Phelps helps a lot of people get dressed every morning. Five thousand employees at Disneyland in California and more than 15,000 employees in Florida’s Walt Disney World wear a complete suit of clothing (“We provide everything but the underwear”) designed, manufactured and regularly laundered by Phelps and his bicoastal staff.

“Our apparel operation has got to be Disney’s best-kept secret,” Phelps muses. “Look at us--we have an inventory of 3 million wardrobe pieces for restaurants, hotels, security, retail--everything you can imagine. And yet, to the clothing industry, we’re virtually unknown.”

Completes the Settings

Ironically, the operation’s low profile may be the strongest indicator of Phelps’ success. Disneyland costume designer Tom Pierce explains: “Our parks offer highly themed settings: a turn-of-the- century Main Street, a subtropical jungle, and so on. The clothing worn by cast members (Disney’s vernacular for its theme-park employees) complements the setting. In fact, if we’re doing our jobs correctly, the costume almost disappears into the scenery.”

While visitors to the Disney parks may not always see what employees are wearing, the themed apparel still contributes to their experience.

“We try to give a bit of theatrical flair to almost everything we create,” Pierce says. “That way, every contact a visitor has with a cast member has a built-in element of fun.”

Although the costumes may communicate a subtle message to park guests, their effect on employees is unmistakable. As Phelps explains it: “Take a 19-year-old guy and put him into our steamboat pilot costume. It’s very detailed to the period and the role: a navy blue vest and jacket, lots of brass buttons, a visored cap. He can’t put it on without also putting on the mantle of authority and responsibility that go with it.”

‘More Than Employee’

Phelps and his staff call their product costumes ; the word uniforms is not in their vocabulary. He adds: “We also refer to all public areas of the parks as ‘on-stage.’ When you go on-stage, you’re more than an employee--you’re a performer.”

Before joining Disney, designer Sandra Huber pursued a stage career, creating costumes for Southern California’s top theaters. Although she now may be called upon to outfit waiters and tour guides, they receive the same design consideration she once reserved for Broadway stars.

Huber says: “We first ask ourselves, ‘What story are we telling in this area of the park? What are we trying to communicate to our guests?’ ”

Disney’s costumers, feeling that the fabrics commonly used in creating career apparel offer too limited a design palette, frequently send a staff of buyers on cross-country searches for just the right colors, patterns and weaves.

“Right now, I’m designing clothing for sales clerks who will work in a shop themed to Los Angeles in the 1940s,” Huber mentions. “The women will wear plain cotton-print dresses, World War II vintage, nothing very fancy. Believe it or not, we just couldn’t find fabric that looked or felt authentic--until our buyers discovered a small firm in the Midwest that markets to rural communities, where styles change very slowly. Sometimes the simplest designs require the most effort.”

Trial Wearings

As soon as a new costume comes off the drawing boards, several prototypes are assembled and are then wear-tested by the people who will be performing their jobs in them. The designers receive detailed reports on the garment’s fit, appearance, comfort, possible safety problems, adequacy of pockets and dozens of other details.

Pam Haynes, who directs the operation of the department, says that a negative report from the field “can send the costume back to Square 1--extensive redesign. As an in-house supplier, we can’t just take the money and run. We live with our accomplishments--and our failures--every day. That’s how you really learn.”

A green light from the garments’ users does not necessarily mean a costume is ready for production. First, it will undergo testing at Walt Disney World, where the hot tropical sun and humidity (and, inevitably, perspiration) create the ultimate durability test for clothing. While there, the garment is sent through industrial laundry and dry-cleaning equipment at least 25 times.

Durability Test

“Most of the fashion industry requires its clothing to retain its appearance after five launderings,” Haynes explains. “If a garment can keep its looks after 12, it is considered indestructible. We expect our costumes to look great after more than 100 cleanings.”

A typical day’s work for a Disney costumer is anything but typical; the parks might need a tuxedo for Mickey Mouse . . . or a 15-foot-long spangled cape for a circus elephant . . . or an eye patch for a robotic pirate. The costumers have been asked to re-create famous costumes from the past, including Judy Garland’s gingham dress and ruby red slippers from “The Wizard of Oz” and Bogart’s famous trench coat and fedora worn in “Casablanca.”

And yet, outside Disney, the designers remain unknown. Phelps comments: “We’ve been approached a few times by other corporations who would like to give their people--the employees who have contact with the public--a little bit of the Disney flair. It always surprises us, because we really don’t promote ourselves.”

But Bob Phelps and his staff may not linger in anonymity for too much longer. One day the world may discover--in the case of Disney--clothes really do make the mouse.