Stitches in Time
Vita Consigli is this close to crankiness. In the 24 hours since she arrived here from New York to help her boss, designer Victor Alfaro, show his collection, she has had two hours of sleep.
Now, in a matter of minutes before the collection hits the runway, she must snip and stitch a shorter hem on a lavender sequined skirt. Such emergencies seem endless backstage at Alfaro’s much-anticipated show in an industrial bus warehouse on the city’s outskirts.
In every corner, someone is doing something. Stitching, steaming, ironing, combing, brushing, styling, dabbing, moisturizing, spraying. Waiting.
Out front, all seems to be going smoothly. Members of the international media have stampeded inside to escape a pouring rain and nosh on hors d’oeuvres and vino as they wait for the fall and winter collection from the Mexican-born, award-winning designer. Alfaro has already made sure a press packet is on every seat where a Gucci, Prada or D&G-donning; derriere will touch down.
Everything Rides On a 20-Minute Show
At 33 and in the business for 10 years, Alfaro has been through this showtime ritual before, a combination of butterflies and a natural high. Still, for all the planning and preparation, he worries.
It has, after all, come down to this: His 20-minute show will either be a runway hit or an off-ramp disaster.
“I haven’t seen so many of the looks together yet,” the boyish-looking Alfaro says, darting between two rows of clothes racks filled with his ideas of what a woman should wear: cashmere, beaded tops, black denim.
Backstage in Victorville, there are some loose threads to tie up. For starters, a few garments from his design studio here are en route in the downpour that is causing L.A.-like traffic jams. Two models are being fitted for the first time. Others are in various stage of undress. It looks like a locker room.
Most of the 19 models have already appeared in as many as six back-to-back shows on this day. Several are hungry (yes, they admit they like to eat) and Alfaro, ever the gentleman (which is why he is so well liked, many say), has sent for trays of itty-bitty snacks.
It’s a party-like atmosphere as models Renata, Jacquetta and Filippa, hair and makeup artists and others schmooze. There’s an endless supply of Polaroid film, bottled water and energy.
Makeup artists apply cosmetics for that no-makeup look, except for a Drew Barrymore glitter effect. Hairstylists dig straightening irons into heads, others blow-dry locks into Cher hair or tie them into airtight ponytails.
“This moment, with just about an hour before the show, is the worst and also the most exciting time for me,” Alfaro says as he and assistant Michelle Gerson dress a model in outfit No. 56--a gray beaded jersey evening dress.
In this business, there’s no in between. And no one knows that better than Alfaro, whose flair for the feminine shot him into fashion’s New York firmament more than six years ago with a signature collection of body-conscious designs and sleek column dresses. His clothes are now sold at Bloomingdale’s, Bergdorf Goodman, Nordstrom, Neiman Marcus and Fred Segal-Melrose in Los Angeles.
He Was Bitten By the Bug as a Boy
Alfaro’s interest in fashion began at an early age while growing up in Chihuahua, Mexico, the fourth (he’s a twin) of seven children, he says during an interview at his design studio, steps away from the world-famous boutiques of Prada, Gucci and Helmut Lang.
He’s the new kid on this Milan block. Panorama magazine has just finished a shoot, a preview of the signature line Alfaro is hoping will do some sales damage to his competition, Prada and pals.
Though painfully shy, his assistant recalls stories he has shared--how, as a kid, Alfaro would read fashion magazines. On trips across the border to El Paso, Texas, with his father, Hector, a doctor, and his mother, Pilar, a homemaker, he would spend his allowance on more magazines. And shop for the unusual--a patchwork shirt or a pair of platform shoes.
Even as a youngster, he remembers how he understood style, how he connected with fashion, how he loved fabric.
After high school, he studied communications at the University of Texas at Austin. But he fantasized about a fashion career.
In 1987, that career took flight after he graduated from New York City’s Fashion Institute of Technology. He apprenticed with designer Mary Ann Restivo, and in 1990 assisted menswear designer Joseph Abboud with a women’s line. Soon after, a family friend invested in Alfaro’s designs and he started doing his own thing. For a while he worked for TSE, the cashmere company. Last year he signed a pact with Gilmar, a privately owned Italian business where he continues his signature collection.
“Gilmar was looking for a designer,” and word of mouth through a friend of a friend in the industry led to the job, he says.
Giuliana Gerani, Gilmar president, met Alfaro two years ago and decided he was the kind of talent her company needed, she says through an interpreter. “He has great taste and is a designer who is very sensitive to a woman’s wants in fashion,” says Gerani, whose company also produces Sui by designer Anna Sui, and other labels such as Iceberg.
“He knows instinctively how to pick up on trends. He is going to be a big success in our company. We are glad to have him.”
The feeling is mutual. Alfaro says he gladly accepts the responsibility that comes with a partnership in a company that generates upward of $200 million in worldwide sales.
Which is why, these days, he says, “I’m usually in Europe more. It’s important to show here. New York is prestigious, but Milan is very prestigious.”
For many American-based designers, to show in New York is the ultimate dream, but for Alfaro it was a launching pad. He often shares that message with young, budding designers, especially other Latinos and minorities who want to break into the business.
Still, he says he doesn’t understand exactly why being a Latino who happens to be a designer is such a big deal to so many.
“When I speak at FIT [Fashion Institute of Technology] I’m a little taken aback when I’m asked, ‘How did I make it being a Hispanic designer?’ Or every time I meet someone Hispanic, the comment is, ‘We’re so proud of you, but didn’t you have to work twice as hard?’
“Why do people think there is something so complex about being a minority? I pursued my dream. And I’ve always worked hard. I grew up with a strong work ethic. This is a rough industry. You have to love it. You have to have passion. If you don’t, then find passion in something else.”
Sheer willpower gets Alfaro and company through the last 20 minutes to showtime.
Four seamstresses are unraveling the hem on a pair of jeans: Four hands on each pant leg make instant fringe. Originally, the jeans were to be Bermuda length, but Alfaro, in a moment of on-the-spot fashion inspiration--and after seeing Malgosia, another model, parade in them--decided to go the way of fray.
And Finally, It’s Really Showtime
The clock is ticking. It’s showtime. Alfaro claps his hands loudly and then calmly and politely announces: “C’mon, c’mon. No more hair, no more makeup.”
The first round of six models lines up near the runway, flanked on either side by a human assembly line. Hands are here, there, everywhere, brushing eyebrows with the tiniest of makeup brushes, slicking down fly-away hairs, glossing lips, massaging a mixture of lotion and makeup onto exposed arms and legs, and rolling lint-removers over cashmere-covered curves.
Always, before each model steps onto the runway, eyes give her clothes, from top to bottom, a fast, last look. Gerson spots an errant thread poking out from a gown.
Alfaro executes the cut with a pair of scissors that seem glued onto his fingers.
His twin, Pablo, a Miami-based photographer, points and clicks. He is his brother’s chronicler. “These things make me very nervous because he’s my brother and I want him to do well,” he says.
At show’s end, there is much applause as Alfaro emerges for his curtain call.
Models kiss and hug him. Several staffers execute high-fives. Soon, buyers, fashion editors, store executives are congratulating him.
Sue Patneaude, a Nordstrom vice president for designer apparel, says she loved the collection.
“I just feel Victor understands casual luxury. He really understands a woman and how she wants to dress.”
Talk like that pleases Alfaro. He’s wired. He’s tired. But he stays until the last well-wisher is gone and every model has a ride to her hotel.
