Inside Peggy Moffitt’s Closet
Look at those eyes and that hair. Peggy Moffitt hasn’t changed a bit. She looks almost exactly like she did in 1964 when she was a fashion model and dared to wear Rudi Gernreich’s topless bathing suit.
If you are of an age to remember Gernreich, surely you remember one of his favorite models in her most famous pose, which first appeared in Women’s Wear Daily, and later, in Life magazine.
Her head of precision-cut black hair demurely bowed, false eyelashes at half-mast, arms strategically crossed, it was one of those great moments in fashion history.
The photographs of the topless Moffitt were taken by her husband, William Claxton. Imitating the pose now, Moffitt scoffs, “I looked like a carhop carrying a tray of hamburgers.” Tastefully discreet or awkward, it was the springboard that launched her into the 15-minutes-of-fame fishbowl.
Twenty-five years later, Moffitt is perceived as an icon of the ‘60s who still wears the same Sassoon-style haircut, Twiggy lashes, and Gernreich wardrobe. The cut is maintained by Shuji Kida, a Sassoon-trained hairdresser who opened the Jadss salon in Los Angeles earlier this month. Moffitt says she is able to paint on the individual eyelashes from sense memory.
She believes her look is the best one for her, not some ossified fashion statement.
Moffitt’s home, tucked away on the mountain side in Beverly Hills, looks like a Mexican hacienda from the outside. Inside, though, the decor is mid-century International Style with fiberglass pedestal tables and tulip chairs to match, by the architect Eero Saarinen.
Her second-floor closet is a long, narrow, two-door style filled with minidresses, jump suits, jackets and pants by Gernreich, most of them 20 years old or more. Their colorful patterns clash and collide in a profusion of windowpane checks, oversized florals, and gargantuan stripes.
These are the pieces she can still wear, the others are packed away in 10 wardrobe crates.
She bought her first Gernreich when she was still in high school and had a part-time job at Jax, a local boutique. When she became his house model, she bought the runway samples and occasionally placed a special order for a color combination that wasn’t offered to the general public.
All that her closet holds, aside from her Gernreich’s, is Levi’s jeans, 10 sweat shirts in different colors, T-shirts in as many colors and a few basic pieces from Units, the chain store with the moderately priced, modular-shaped clothes. Her interest in trend-setting designers faded when she removed herself from the fashion front in the mid-’70s.
On the floor of her closet are two pair of Japanese-style sandals and three pair of white Keds in varying stages of decay. Her oldest, most worn looking pair is her favorite. She calls them, “My dear, dear sneakers.” In stacked shoe boxes and on a rack are the flat-heel shoes she wears with the Gernreich outfits. They are from the same decade as the clothes and sadly, have not lasted as well. A vintage, parrot green pair with a thicker heel is striking.
Moffitt doesn’t spend the time she used to hanging out with the fashion folks. She gardens, wearing her blue jeans and her sweats. Only when she’s called upon will she paint up her eyes and slip into something by Rudi for her public appearances. As for the famous bathing suit, Gernreich gave her one of the 3,000 that were produced. “He told me he really thought I should have one. The last time I saw it, it still had all it’s tags. I’ve never worn it.”
