Designer-Dressed to Impress : Fashion: Dressing for the L.A. social scene is a tricky business. Peer pressure, money, press coverage and social peerage determine who wears what where--and why.
When Nancy Livingston became president of the Blue Ribbon, the Music Center’s elite group of female fund-raisers, she did something she had never done before: She walked into a dressing room and tried on an Adolfo suit, a uniform of that tony set.
“I was with a much more conservative group of women who had a certain approach to dressing--more reserved, classic, conservative,” she recalls. “But to my absolute grief and disappointment, I was simply not an Adolfo girl; I looked like I was in somebody else’s clothes. And I was so influenced looking at these beautiful clothes. They were right for those women, but not for me.”
So goes dressing for the L.A. social circuit, where peer pressure, money, press coverage and social peerage determine who wears what where--and why. The city’s various cliques of socially prominent women--including charity-minded wives, businesswomen and entertainers--have distinct looks, whether they be classic Adolfo suits, elegant Galanos gowns or sophisticated Donna Karan separates.
Adolfo fashion shows are the extreme of the dress-alike phenomenon. While at some fashion shows women pay tribute to the designer by wearing one of his creations, here it is carried to bizarre proportions. It’s not unusual to see 5 to 10 women wearing the exact same suit, often with the same spectator pumps, signifying some exclusive members-only club. In essence, nothing changes from childhood, when kids are ostracized if they don’t have the same outfits and accessories as their friends, and which kind of jeans they wear determines which clique they are a part of.
A grown woman who wears Bally shoes, an Hermes scarf and a Chanel handbag carries the identification tags of her social and economic strata.
Some women align themselves so closely with one or two designers their wardrobes consist of little else. Dawn Steel, former president of Columbia Pictures, is a known Giorgio Armani-holic, and it’s a safe bet to say she’s never been seen in a boxy Adolfo jacket and skirt.
Then there are those, like Blue Ribbon’s Livingston--who has at least one leather skirt in her wardrobe--who try to break out of the mold and let their own styles come through.
“We are influenced by the groups we spend time with--that’s inevitable,” Livingston says. “But it’s taken me all my life to first of all know who I am and then dress accordingly.”
While she never did buy an Adolfo (average price: $2,500), she admits she altered her look “without my realizing it. I think it was a very subliminal kind of thing. I blended my own things with what I felt they wanted me to look like.”
Livingston’s brief bout with adult peer pressure isn’t unusual; anyone who ventures out on the social scene is bound to deal with it at some point.
“I worry a little bit about women aligning themselves with designers,” says designer Bob Mackie, long famous for his slinky, sexy, sequined gowns and tres outre costumes for Cher.
“I think women who do that aren’t very secure with themselves and their choices,” adds Mackie, who says his customers for both couture and ready-to-wear tend to be adventurous in what they wear.
“It’s easy to sort of pick somebody they feel is very establishment or whatever. Just because somebody is socially well-connected doesn’t mean they have a wonderful sense of themselves. Sometimes they feel secure in buying certain designer clothes that are socially acceptable.
“I think it would be great if you had the time to go around and look for clothes, and not depend on one designer to do it. When that happens, you start looking alike. It’s clubby, women feel secure in knowing that this is what you’re supposed to wear now. I know women who wear lots of different designers, but if there’s an occasion they’re nervous about, they’ll put on the designer dress that will be accepted by the other women.”
Just because a woman has $5,000 to throw away on a designer ready-to-wear gown, or $20,000 to spend on a French couture creation, doesn’t mean she has a great sense of style. It only means she has money to dress like, or better than, her peers.
New York women’s wear designer Ann Lawrence, whose feminine, figure-conscious designs sell for $600 to $3,000, prefers to cite trends rather than pack mentality when explaining why women dress alike. “When there’s a new fashion trend, it starts happening in a certain circle of people. And it’s the tendency of human beings to identify with people they aspire to be. The more socially upward women set those trends, and in return that’s picked up by the press--or vice versa. But these women are definitely moving in the fast lane, and they pick up on things immediately. Others look at that and say, ‘Wow, she has great taste, and I can afford to buy that.’ ”
How often women shop is determined not only by budget, but how many parties they attend, how often and where they travel, and how concerned they are with being seen in the same dress more than once. Some shop seasonally, some for specific occasions, and others simply when the mood strikes them.
Women pay dearly for outfit exclusivity. Being photographed for the glossy pages of W may mean that $7,000 satin and beaded gown worn once will have to find another home, lest she be photographed in it a second time.
The social crowd keeps up with the newest styles and designers by attending fashion shows, reading fashion magazines and often relying on personal shoppers or store salespeople, who let them know when new merchandise comes in. Stores such as Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue, Suite 101, the Torie Steele boutiques and Fred Hayman want to be sure their best customers are up-to-date.
Barbara Davis, wife of billionaire businessman Marvin Davis, acknowledges she gives a lot of thought to what she’ll wear for an evening out.
“I spend a lot of time thinking about what I’d like to wear and what the other women will be wearing,” says Davis, who is known for accenting her lush gowns with opulent jewels. “We check with each other, because we respect each other and care about one another. I guess first you dress for your husband--I won’t wear anything he doesn’t like--and then you dress for the friends you’re going to be sharing the event with.
“I think it’s fun to dress nicely because you feel better about yourself when you go out,” she adds. “You’re complimenting the host and hostess and your friends because you’ve bothered to put yourself together.”
Davis describes her style as “not too showy or flashy” and favors such American designers as Scaasi (also preferred by First Lady Barbara Bush), Adolfo, Bill Blass, Oscar de la Renta, Calvin Klein and Nolan Miller, in addition to Chanel and Valentino. She sometimes attends the New York designer collections but shops seasonally in Los Angeles and Beverly Hills, will wear a dress “15 or 16 times” and doesn’t care if another woman shows up in the same outfit.
Dressing well is also important to Wendy Goldberg, a marketing adviser for new product and promotion development for Max Factor and wife of producer Leonard Goldberg. But only up to a point.
“I don’t want to take too much time thinking about it--that connotes a very vapid kind of existence,” she says. “Once you feel good about the way you look, then you can forget it. People who take fashion so seriously that it preoccupies a lot of their time are wasting energy. I’d like to be remembered not for what I was wearing, but that I looked good.”
She remembers vividly the time she and another woman showed up at a Music Center event in the same dress. Goldberg says she tossed it off; “I thought we both had good taste, and I said, ‘Let’s not take it seriously.’ But she did. She carried on like it was disgraceful to the people around her, like it ruined her evening. I thought it was so ridiculous. Who cares?”
On average, Goldberg says, she’s in the stores once a month, but she also relies on sales clerks who know her taste to alert her to new styles.
“I shop pretty much when I feel my wardrobe is in need of some additions, when I feel that I’ve worn the same thing 20 times and it’s getting a little worn. I’m interested in seeing the styles of the new season, but it’s hard to keep up with if you’re involved with other things.”
Since she loves to recycle and hates to waste, Goldberg finds homes for her dresses after she’s worn them several times. “I have some family members who are about the same size, and I give some of my things to them. And then I do give to charity, and I’ve used resale boutiques occasionally.”
The resale market is a booming one, says Roberta Magid, an owner of A Chic Conspiracy, a resale boutique on La Cienega Boulevard in the shadow of the upscale Beverly Center mall.
Most sales, says Magid, are done on consignment, with the store and the seller getting a 50/50 split.
While she won’t reveal her top-secret client list, she does say many items come her way because “some women are just very, very conscious of not being seen twice in the same outfit, and that’s just the way they are. It’s their life style, and I understand that. Also, you can’t get the deductions you did years ago (when donating merchandise to charity), and some of them would much rather have a nice check in their hands.”
But some women--such as former designer Nancy Vreeland--hang on to things from decades past. “I have some Bill Blass things from the ‘60s that I could still wear today,” says Vreeland, now active with the Music Center and wife of architect Tim Vreeland, son of the late fashion doyenne Diana Vreeland.
“I give a lot of thought when I know I’m going to be in someone’s home,” she says. “That to me is the ultimate in trying to pull myself together and appear in something I’ll feel comfortable in. I think I give more thought to that than going to a big gala.”
Vreeland describes her daytime style as “laid back,” but she loves to dress up for evening. Her tastes lean toward Bill Blass and Oscar de la Renta, but she also pulls together dressy separates, such as beaded jackets and velvet skirts, almost always with bold accessories.
She keeps an eye out for younger up-and-coming designers as well; “I think the most interesting thing about them are their prices. Whenever I purchase something, especially if I’m going to spend serious dollars, I think of the longevity of the piece. When I think that today a simple little ensemble is $4,000, it does turn me off.
“Do I see myself as a role model?” Vreeland wonders. “In the daytime I’m laughable, but I think in the evening, for a grand occasion, perhaps people look at what I’m wearing. And hopefully it’s individualistic--not outlandish--and it does make a statement.”
Shauna Stein wishes more women had Vreeland’s attitude toward dressing up. Says the owner of the 3-year-old Shauna Stein boutique in the Beverly Center, “I really believe that women could probably seek out a more individualistic style. But by nature they want to be accepted. It’s very hard to be confident and stand out. Plus, there’s too much out there. There are too many looks to choose from.”
Stein longs for the ‘30s and ‘40s, when glamour--especially movie star glamour--meant something, “when role models were much more individualistic with their sense of style. Meryl Streep is a fabulous actress, but we don’t think of her as having a specific style.”
She credits actresses Michelle Pfeiffer and Anne Archer with having consistent good taste and a chic, soft, sexy distinctive look, but sees most of the field as “very lackluster.”
“Completely bored” is how she feels about W magazine’s current crop of New York glamour queens, such as Ivana Trump, Georgette Mosbacher, Mercedes Bass and Gayfryd Steinberg.
“I know that’s a strong statement to make,” she says, “but it is boring. It’s not that they look terrible, but none of them stand out to me. I love women who stand out, who are distinctive looking.”
