Bimbo bonanza
Anna NICOLE SMITH is frolicking on a bed with a framed photo of her dead millionaire husband on the table beside her. She could be in her boudoir if it weren’t for the cameras snapping and autograph seekers beckoning. Instead, the erstwhile Playboy Playmate is holding court in an elaborate pink velvet booth built for the MAGIC apparel trade show here this week, where she’s introducing her new clothing label to more than 90,000 retailers, exhibitors and journalists.
“It’s been a dream of mine,” she says in a babyish, faux Marilyn chirp, “ever since I was a little girl and didn’t have any clothes. My mom cut the bottoms of my jeans off and sewed them onto other jeans to make them longer.”
She doesn’t appear to have many more clothes now, dressed in a plunging tank top that laces up the side and rhinestone-studded jeans that hug her newly svelte curves. (She admits to recently losing more than 69 pounds.) “These aren’t really done yet,” she says, referring to the pieces she’s wearing and indeed the line itself. “This is really just something we threw together.”
Just a week before the spring fashion season begins at New York City’s Bryant Park, retailers and apparel manufacturers converge here for a four-day marketing and buying bonanza that does more to determine what most people wear than any runway show. The event is equal parts skin-baring spectacle, with bikini-clad women and cocktails on ice from dawn to dusk and parties at casinos all night long.
The apparel offerings range from high to low, clothing for the racks of Bloomingdale’s, Fred Segal, JC Penney, Wal-Mart, Hot Topic and Richard Young’s tiny menswear store in Escatawpa, Miss. We’re talking the newest premium jeans line, made from hand-sanded and resin-treated denim; Easter egg pink four-button suits for big ‘n’ tall men; boxer shorts featuring the Trojan condom logo; wingtips with brass alligator heads bolted to the heels; neckties adorned with gaudy crystals; and a thousand varieties of the spring break favorite, the Corona beer T-shirt.
The event is named MAGIC after the Men’s Apparel Guild in California, which began producing market weeks in Palm Springs in 1942. The trade show relocated first to L.A., then to Las Vegas in 1989, and later began incorporating women’s wear. Now shoes, children’s and junior clothing are among the 21,000 product lines.
Five years ago, hip-hop labels dominated the show, and music stars such as Jay-Z and Russell Simmons were fixtures on the selling floor. But this season, although Sean “P. Diddy” Combs appeared briefly to promote his new organization Citizen Change and its pro-voting T-shirts, the celebrity designer trend seems to have hit a new low: bimbo fashion.
Pamela Anderson is spending an afternoon posing for photos with fans to promote her new lines of jewelry and cruelty-free shoes, including a synthetic Ugg-like boot. But she seems just as eager to flog her new novel, “Star.” “It’s on the New York Times bestseller list. That cracks me up more than anything,” she says, taking a break from signing 8-by-10 glossies on the top floor of her two-story booth, also a bit boudoir-like.
Although she insists she has input, Anderson doesn’t really design the clear-plastic sided pumps and hooker-height shoes. That task falls to Natalie Gray, also the name behind Playboy footwear. “Pamela initially wanted 4 1/2 -inch heels, and we had to negotiate,” says Gray. “She also wanted her entire fall line to be white. Again, we had to negotiate.”
In the younger, hipper part of the convention hall, Boy George is playing DJ for the launch of B-Rude, his line of paint-splattered punk separates emblazoned with phrases such as “Fashion Weak.” Passersby stop, not to dance but to gawk.
“Boy George! Is that who that is?” asks Cynde Pangas, who owns three boutiques in Hawaii. “Then I guess I’ll pay attention. Actually, I’m going to get my camera.”
Then there are those who are famous by association. Christine Baumgartner hasn’t married actor Kevin Costner yet. But that didn’t stop her from dragging him out to shill for her Cat Bag Couture handbags and laptop cases, which -- with their faux leopard fur trim and vintage floral linings -- are actually distinctive enough to stand out from the acres of goods on their own.
Nicky Hilton returned to Vegas just weeks after her surprise nuptials to debut Chick, her line of tie-dye polo shirts, pastel denim jackets and jeans with airbrushed cherubs and skulls.
“When Paris and I were younger we used to stay at the Las Vegas Hilton a lot, and we’d always be here during MAGIC,” she says. “We would run away from our nanny and sneak into the show. I remember we didn’t realize we were looking at samples, and we’d try to buy stuff.”
“We like to think of her as a throwback to Gloria Vanderbilt of the last century,” says Allen Fredman, president of Benvin Industries, the license holder for Chick. “We have talked to a lot of singers and stars with clothing lines, and they have to struggle to make time. In Nicky’s case, this is what she does. She’s the design director. We’re building a studio in L.A.”
“I don’t want them to just send samples for my approval,” says Hilton, who in all fairness did attend Parsons School of Design in New York.
Even Betty Boop is poised for a comeback. “She’s coming on strong for spring,” according to Eve Covell, vice president for sales and marketing at Trevco Inc., a company that screens T-shirt images of Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Bettie Page and other dead celebrities.
But having a face is not a requisite for fame in the apparel world. “Ford Motors has been doing well,” says Max Javadi, president of T-shirt company Mixology, while overseeing the printing of dozens of freebie black logo shirts on a whirring machine. “And Corona is always a favorite. It has that beachy feeling. It’s a lot more popular than other beer brands.”
“People are big into retro beers,” says Donna Stewart of City Beer Gear, standing in front of a display of a hooded sweatshirt with a pocket in front just big enough to hold a bottle of brew. “It’s too bad Pabst won’t loosen up. They’ve also got Schlitz. They could make a ton of royalties.”
Oscar Mayer is taking a fashionable turn too. Paul Frank, the Orange County-based designer famous for his Julius the Monkey graphics, is spending his days on the convention floor in a stuffed hot dog costume to promote his collaboration with the lunchmeat maker.
“It’s a living,” he says. “People keep asking me, ‘Who made you dress like that?’ And I’m all, ‘I made me dress like this.’ ”
On Tuesday night, when he opened his first Las Vegas store at the Fashion Show mall with a runway presentation, the Wienermobile was parked on the sidewalk out front. Later, he hosted the week’s kitschiest after-party at a Coyote Ugly-like bar at the Frontier Hotel & Casino, complete with female mud wrestling and a mechanical bull.
“When you see the Wienermobile, it doesn’t matter who you are. You could be a total vegetarian, but you lose your mind for a minute,” he says.
Later this year the designer will debut a Paul Frank Barbie and an accompanying line. “I always thought Barbie’s accessories were very cool. You could chew on the shoes,” he says. “My Barbie will come with mini Paul Frank accessories too, so we will have come full circle.”
Von Dutch, the clothing line named after the 1960s-era hot rod customizer and popularized by the now-ubiquitous trucker’s hat, has ignited a frenzy for all things car-related. L.A.-based 310 Motoring, a company that has customized cars for Britney Spears, Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, Jennifer Lopez, Nelly, Kobe Bryant and others, is launching its own line of duds -- tracksuits, T-shirts and leather jackets with padding and piping inspired by automotive details.
BC Ethic, a men’s sportswear line, draws mostly male convention spectators with a fleet of sweet rides, including a Cadillac Escalade with 10 TVs and a Camaro tricked out to look like a Matchbox car. It’s all a publicity stunt to promote the label’s clothing licenses for the MTV show “Pimp My Ride,” Batmobile builder and custom car king George Barris, Mattel’s Hot Wheels and West Coast Customs.
Strapped for cash, some younger designers resort to creative marketing tactics. Sarah Hurd of Revolution Wear couldn’t afford booth space. So she roams the floor wearing her “Voting Is Sexy” T-shirt with a cardboard placard on her back, instructing people to ask if they want to know how to buy a shirt.
Sterling Williams, who designs the Pink Mafia label, is dressed in his own “Real Men Love Pink” shirt and armed with a stack of business cards.
Others pass on the corporate atmosphere of MAGIC for the smaller, 300-exhibitor Pool show at Mandalay Bay. Here, the convention hall has a college-dorm feel, with Mexican rugs, mismatched furniture and odd helium balloon art displays. Le Tigre and American Apparel have the biggest booths, manned by pixie-like girls in pigtails, knee socks and 1970s short-shorts. Edgier creations from smaller lines include dangling earrings made from sunglass lenses by Master Bedroom, hats crafted from plastic Federal Express packaging by Melodic Minor, and T-shirts designed to look like corsets by Corse-T-Ny (picked up at the show by buyers from Fred Segal Santa Monica).
Jaye Hersh of Intuition works both shows on the quest for the next big thing. Her West L.A. boutique and online site cater to celebrities and fans who want to dress like them. But Hersh found the celebrity-designed lines to be a turnoff. “It seemed like at their booths the buzz was all about meeting the celebrity, more like a public appearance,” she says.
It was at Pool that she discovered Steelo’s inside-out terrycloth T-shirts with witty sayings on them. Her favorite? “I Love Paparazzi.”
