L.A. woman

Go ahead, say the words “L.A.” and “style” together without smirking just a little. The implied regionalism of the term gives the game away. It’s so “Me, too!” In Milan, the term is bella figura; in Paris, it’s simply “chic”; in London, it’s a “look.” Our sister to the East, New York, has a million hegemonic expressions for it--one “works” a fashion mood, one “serves [up]” a designer outfit, one “feels” a costumey dress. And whatever “look” is in is guaranteed to be identified, dissected and priced within 30 seconds of its presentation.

L.A. women don’t go for that. Sure, they covet, but L.A. style-setters don’t get as fixated about “must haves” as women in other cities. “Fashion here is digested in a totally different way,” says stylist and costume designer Arianne Phillips, who dresses Madonna, contributes to Italian Vogue, Pop and Harper’s Bazaar and costumed actors in films including “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” “Identity” and “Girl, Interrupted.” Phillips attributes part of this digestive process to good old California culture: the beach, the mountains, the desert, the climate, the sunshine.

“There really is a casual aesthetic, and it reflects the ease--or perceived ease--of life here,” Phillips says. “People aren’t quite as fashion literal here. I don’t know people who go out and buy, say, the new fall collection. You walk into Fred Segal or Barneys, and that approach is just not there.”

L.A. women are “more likely to throw together a Birkin bag, Juicy pants and a Chanel jacket. That’s what I see,” says boutique owner Tracey Ross. Designer Magda Berliner, whose whimsical dresses are a favorite of fashion editors and connoisseurs, and who counts Chanel among her influences, adds, “We don’t have the ‘That’s last year’s Balenciaga’ thing. Here it’s ‘That looks great.’ People are not really hung up on what’s current right now.”

L.A.-born model and style icon Peggy Moffitt, who with designer Rudi Gernreich helped create some of the most enduring fashion of this epoch, says fashion “is predicated on the idea that every six months it’s going to change. When you look at something, you have to ask yourself, ‘Do I want that because everyone does? Or do I want that because it serves my purposes?’ I think people with style might have things 30 or 40 years.”

Even in conventionally luxurious Beverly Hills, where designer goods are more likely to be merchandised as “outfits” (and where, it should be noted, a large percentage of the shoppers don’t live), “people notice that whole ‘editor look,’ ” says Berliner, of the standard-issue somber wear that New York’s fashion set favors. “We have fashion editors here, but they don’t dress like that. And they’re probably critiqued for it by their New York counterparts.”

“You really have to do your own thing out here,” says longtime Angeleno Lisa Eisner, who worked as an editor in the New York offices of Vogue before coming to L.A. She consulted for big-name American and European designers and then started a publishing house, Greybull Press, with business partner and fashion-industry veteran Roman Alonso. Eisner is renowned for her ability to pair seemingly disparate elements.

“A lot of it comes from feeling,” she says. “It’s much more about what’s comfortable, and how it functions here. The environment really rules whatever city you’re in [and] that’s why everyone’s so casual. You’d look ridiculous walking around in giant heels except at night.” New York and Paris have rules, she says. “There are no rules here.”

Options are like mother’s milk to true Californians, regardless of whether they’re native or newly rooted. People come here to make their own rules. The world watches, because, for better or worse, L.A. is the place where ideas meet the market.

“They try to dress like L.A. girls in London,” reports Ross. “But they’re definitely more coiffed than we are, and more colorful.”

Physicality has always been part of L.A.’s fashion picture. It’s where the dialogue between women’s bodies and fashion finally changed. Looking back to Gernreich’s most famous innovation, the topless bathing suit in 1964, it was here, in the ‘50s, that he began removing boning and linings from his clothes, and banned bras and girdles to create a new sense of physical freedom for women. His clothes were bold, graphic and completely unexpected to women accustomed to being trussed up like turkeys. His nudity was less lascivious than matter-of-fact. “This is a woman’s body,” his clothes seemed to say. “This is what they really look like.”

Elsewhere in Southern California, at the time, other fashion pioneers were reinventing the basics to work for a more adventurous audience. Orange County model and TV host Marie Gray was at work on a loom in her living room, re-creating the structured, proper, ladylike suit in knit that would form the foundation of the Irvine-based St. John Knits empire.

Nancy Reagan’s support of L.A. couturier James Galanos spawned L.A.’s Ladies Who Dress for Lunch. At the same time, Richard Tyler was combining impeccable tailoring and rock-star attitude in suits and gowns.

For better or worse (and the reviews are mixed), today Juicy Couture continues the trend, having taken the ultimate dress-down street gear, the sweat suit, and put an L.A. twist on it, creating something so luxurious, fetching and profitable that New York clothing giant Liz Claiborne snapped up the company recently to the tune of $98 million.

After toiling in relative obscurity for 10 years, native Californian Rick Owens’ witchy approach to sensuality grabbed the attention of Revillon, the venerable Paris furrier, where he is expanding the offerings to include a line of clothing. He had been doing business with fashion leaders such as Maxfield here, Linda Dresner in New York and Colette in Paris before finally catching the eye of Vogue fashion dominatrix Anna Wintour, whose interest last fall boosted his career.

Owens and other Southern California designers have been able to quietly refine their craft and vision because the big spotlight in L.A. has (until now) always been on costume design rather than fashion design. They seldom have to deal with the “churn”--the press attention, the money train and the pressures familiar to designers in other fashion capitals. The collective hype consciousness here has always gone into feeding the beast that is the Entertainment Industry. There’s just not that much left over for the other worlds that make up the L.A. universe.

Moffitt, whose unforgettable appearance in Gernreich’s designs stamped both her and Gernreich indelibly in fashion history, feels that L.A. worked to her friend’s creative advantage. “He liked the life here. He liked not having the pressure, living only in the fashion world that existed back in New York. He would work here and take his collection there, but his lifestyle was not New York at all. He was never a fashionista; he was much more interesting and worldly.”

The result of L.A.’s peculiar melange is a glorious lack of consensus. And even women who would never buy anything Hermes, Juicy or Chanel feel they have options here they wouldn’t have elsewhere.

“I think that vintage, no matter what, is very influential here,” says Eisner. “We don’t have the ‘This is what everyone’s wearing’ thing. And you don’t feel embarrassed to wear a dress that’s two seasons old with something new. It’s much more personal.”

With freedom, unfortunately, comes the potential for abuse. For every Eisner, Ross, Smith and Phillips, there’s an Angelyne. “The entertainment industry influences us more than any other place in the world,” Phillips says. “We’re more accepting of facial reconstruction and belly-button piercings on [people ages] 8 to 80.”

“I don’t believe in do’s and don’ts, but the emphasis on youth here has thrown open the window for age-inappropriate dressing,” she says. “It’s fascinating. It’s often like watching a car wreck, completely captivating and shocking at times.”

“I see actresses all the time who lie about their age,” boutique owner Ross says. “And I want to say, ‘You look terrible for 32, but for 42 you look great!”

Designer Berliner agrees, and takes it one step further. “I don’t want to go out to a restaurant and see it all hanging out. I think people take that a little too far here. And women of all ages do it.”

Still, no one would sacrifice freedom on the altar of taste. “I love it when I see people who just put it out there, wrong or right. If they feel good when they look in the mirror, kudos to them,” Berliner says.

“There’s a joie de vivre, whether it’s tiki culture or swing dancing or surf culture or whatever,” Phillips says. “We’re very liberal, and as far as dress codes--there is none here.”

And so, Moffitt says, the L.A. woman of style does two things: Looks around her, and then looks within. “It takes a certain amount of guts, character. I think people that do have style [feel] ‘I can do some of what you do, and reject other things.’”