Stars in his eyes, Kors heads west
Michael Kors made his mark dressing Manhattan’s Park Avenue princesses -- the Cornelia Guests and Aerin Lauders of the canape set. He even named one of his collections, featuring coats and skirts in a black-and-white zigzag reminiscent of the top of the Chrysler Building, after the Upper East Side’s ritziest ZIP Code, 10021.
But now, at long last, Kors has arrived in 90210, opening a boutique on Rodeo Drive.
“Welcome to my living room,” he says of the sunbathed store that is modern yet warm, with a zebra-striped chair, suede curtains, crocodile-covered tables and a flat-screen TV customized to fit into a silver picture frame. “We wanted to make it funky, but not too much,” he says. “A lot of L.A. stores turn into mausoleums or are so Rococo glamour that you’re like, ‘I don’t understand, is the shah still in power?’ ”
A camera might as well be filming, because Kors is on. He’s entertaining the whole crowd -- the publicists, his mother, the doorman, even the construction worker in the corner. And he might as well be in his living room since he’s sitting on a sofa in front of a mirrored glass table with a crystal decanter of Scotch and a book of celebrity photos by Ron Galella.
Lately, it’s paparazzi princesses who have been Kors’ muses. The photographer who drove Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis to pursue a restraining order was the inspiration behind the designer’s blockbuster fall collection of lavender mink ponchos, paisley dresses swinging with fringe from the thighs down, fur-trimmed blue jeans and oversized aviator sunglasses.
“When you look at pictures today of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey or Kate Hudson and Chris Robinson,” Kors says, “and then you look at Galella’s pictures of Warren Beatty and Julie Christie at airport arrivals in the 1970s, or Carly Simon and James Taylor waiting in customs, ticked off, you realize you’re looking at the same thing. It makes vintage not seem so vintage.”
A self-described pop-culture junkie, Kors says, “I’m a total tabloid freak. Star, In Touch, I read them all. When people talk about Hollywood, they talk about the red carpet. But to me it’s not as interesting, because stylists are involved and the hair and makeup are perfect. The dream pictures are of Cindy Crawford with her kids in the grocery cart getting milk off the refrigerator shelf. That rocks my world, because it’s glamorous in real life, and that’s what I do.”
He can’t get enough of celebrities’ utterly impractical clothing combinations.
“I love the idea that the more glamorous someone is, the more they don’t have to live by the rules. You wear sandals in the wintertime and boots in the summer with a bikini. I love that about all the paparazzi photos today. You see Pamela Anderson in boots, a sweatshirt and cutoffs.”
Kors, 45, has the kind of toothy grin and boyish good looks one would expect from a former child actor who appeared in TV commercials for Lucky Charms and Charmin. Now he is one of American fashion’s brightest stars, carrying on the sportswear tradition of giants Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and Donna Karan, and dreaming of an empire to match.
But Kors also embodies the state of the industry at this moment. After 23 years in business, he’s had to adapt to consumers’ newly developed tastes for both high and low designer style, the diminishing returns of being involved with a European luxury conglomerate, and the notion that fashion is not just about pretty clothes anymore, it’s entertainment.
In March, Kors showed his 13th and final collection for Paris-based Celine and left LVMH Moet Hennessy Louis Vuitton (and the international commute) behind. His new partners, fashion investors Silas Chou and Lawrence Stroll, aim to build his business from its current $100 million to the $1-billion mark with licensed fragrances, eyewear, shoes, coats and swimwear. Following Tom Ford’s departure from Gucci and the doubts the shakeup has cast on the future of smaller brands funded by European conglomerates, Kors is poised to benefit from a renewed enthusiasm for American design. For the first time in six years, he is living and working in New York full time, focusing on his signature men’s and women’s lines and expanding his accessories.
But he is also embracing the democratization of fashion, which he calls “a revolution,” joining Oscar de la Renta, Klein and several other designers in launching affordable lines for the Banana Republic crowd. This month, the redundantly named Michael Michael Kors sportswear line will debut in 350 department stores with cream cable-knit turtlenecks, leather trench coats, suede jeans and faux shearling vests for $79 to $799. He likes to call the concept “carpool couture.”
“This is a time when we are saying, ‘I don’t care if you drive a Hyundai, you might have fabulous taste,’ ” Kors says. “Ten years ago, that’s not how people in the fashion business looked at it. They thought if you didn’t have money and you didn’t live in New York or L.A., you wouldn’t get it.”
A decade ago, he entered the “bridge” category with clothes priced in between his new “better” sportswear line and his high-end signature line, which retails from $800 to $20,000. The move forced him into bankruptcy. The more recent Kors bridge line didn’t fare well either and has been discontinued. “Bridge clothes in many instances have out-priced themselves,” he says. “When clothes get a little more expensive, certain women get more cautious.”
His decision to go into the more affordable “better” category was motivated in part by the popularity of knockoffs. “When I see something in a Zara window before I even ship the product, it convinces me. And Victoria’s Secret [catalog] does the whole look. They book the girl who wore it in the runway show and put her in the same outfit with the same shoe,” he says. “Frankly, I think I know how to do Michael Kors better than anybody else.”
With celebrity designers Eve, Gwen Stefani and others now competing for shopping dollars, the telegenic Kors is also amping his public persona. He’ll appear alongside model Heidi Klum in the forthcoming reality show “Project Runway.” The series, premiering this fall on Bravo, will follow 12 up-and-coming designers living and working together in a loft space in New York as they compete in weekly challenges. One contestant will be cut each week until only three remain to battle for a showing at New York’s Fashion Week in February 2005.
“It will be fun, entertaining and dishy,” he says, “but it will also give someone an amazing opportunity if they have the talent, the drive -- and the looks don’t hurt either.”
Kors is keenly aware of the need for a designer to be media savvy. “Hasn’t it always been important, when you think about who has been successful?” he asks. “Even if they were silent, like Martin Margiela, silence was the shtick. Even Yves Saint Laurent with his breakdowns, everyone was thinking, ‘When is he going to have his next breakdown and will it be in Marrakech I can’t wait!’ When I did my first shows, I remember walking out and seeing one film crew, [CNN’s] Elsa Klensch’s, not a whole bank like today. The public knows more about fashion now. It’s not an exclusive game.”
As much as he seems to enjoy an audience, unlike Ford, Kors does not have bigger Hollywood ambitions. But that doesn’t keep him from talking about Los Angeles in cinematic terms. Although Joan Kors, his mother and a former Revlon model, lives here, the Beverly Hills Hotel is Kors’ home away from home. Breakfast at the Fountain Coffee Shop there is a must. “I feel like I’m in a Lucy episode, like Ethel and Fred are going to come in any minute and say, ‘Welcome to Hollywood.’ ” He usually has at least one dinner at Dan Tana’s, “the only place where you can see Red Buttons and Benicio del Toro.” And a drive down Sunset Boulevard in his rented convertible is heaven. “The minute I hit the Palisades and see the beach, I have a moment that’s a cross between the Beach Boys and ‘To Catch a Thief.’ ”
Kors grew up on Long Island. But he has long sported the Southern California look -- jeans, blazer, T-shirt, and shoes without socks -- except for a brief phase during his teenage years when he rolled his jacket sleeves up. “I was doing ‘Miami Vice’ before ‘Miami Vice,’ ” he deadpans.
Two years ago he started designing his own signature men’s line, which he has high hopes for in the Rodeo Drive store, only his second after the Madison Avenue location, across the street from the Carlysle Hotel. “We think L.A. will be an amazing market because, I know it sounds shallow, but men in L.A. have better bodies than men in New York and they are more into fashion. Guys in New York can get away with a boring suit every day. In L.A., people expect you to show a little imagination.”
With New York and L.A. figured out, the designer has his sights set on the rest of the country. Over the next few weeks, he’ll travel to 18 cities for trunk shows to promote the Michael lines at stores such as Bloomingdale’s and Macy’s. “I’m seeing Rodeo Drive today and St. Louis in 10 days!”
There will always be a customer who wants intense luxury. That $7,000 lavender mink poncho? “Last week in Short Hills, N.J., we sold four of them for breakfast,” he says. “Sometimes something is so outrageous that it becomes a basic.”
But the days of women wearing head-to-toe high-end are gone. “If you had an unlimited budget, I think you’d have some couture in the closet, designer in the closet, vintage in the closet, ‘better’ in the closet, and you would certainly have a little Old Navy and Gap,” Kors says. “Give me a flip-flop or crocodile, I’m happy.”
