Word: laurent
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These magnificent dresses-them selves worth a visit to the show-provide the dramatic centerpiece for the exhibition that lacks logic. Vreeland's practice of organizing the Met's fashion displays by color, mood, line and occasionally whim is not satisfactory. It is impossible to trace Saint Laurent's career or to see the variety in a given year without making the crowded circuit several times and squinting down at the labels. This is particularly frustrating, since the exhibition rooms, possibly suggesting the museum's priorities, are cramped and poky. One strategy might...
Vreeland's higgledy-piggledy does have the effect of a kaleidoscope. One sees the arrival of the mini, the pantsuit for day and the androgynous "smoking" for night, boots, turtlenecks, sporty furs. Picasso keeps reappearing, usually in witty design quotations. So do plaids; in 1979, Saint Laurent's heart went deep into the Scottish Highlands, and he made a formidable, fanciful rig. Except for his Mondrian motif, Saint Laurent was not comfortable with minis; the late '60s belonged to André Courrèges. In fact, despite the influence of specific designs, Saint Laurent has not always...
Probably the couturier got his new minis from the girls rather than vice versa. It is said that Saint Laurent does not get around the streets to observe enough any more. The ebullient man who posed nude for a men's fragrance ad in 1971 is now painfully isolated (see box). He has new rivals. Today Armani commands fashion's thinkers. The Japanese designers are the darlings of the avantgarde. Ralph Lauren has made distinctively American tailoring popular internationally. At Chanel, the talented, aggressive Lagerfeld seems to be mounting a direct challenge to Saint Laurent's supremacy...
Yves Saint Laurent radiates timidity and a fragile, overstrained sensibility. Last Tuesday when he found his way to the Costume Institute in the bowels of the Metropolitan Museum, he was stopped by a security guard and meekly signed in to see his own show. As the frantic week of preparation went on, he was coaxed one way by Diana Vreeland, the other by his hectoring partner, Pierre Bergé. Saint Laurent did his best, moving as if in a daze...
...says, "honored" by this retrospective, which is his symbolic coronation as the monarch of fashion, but it comes at a bad time. Saint Laurent is trying to recover from a kind of breakdown. He sees a therapist in Paris five times a week and takes a regimen of "calmant" pills, which he unwisely chases with alcohol on occasion. He is now so detached that he regards solitude as "a friend." The burden of putting on four extravaganzas a year-two for haute couture, two for Rive Gauche-for a quarter of a century would seem to justify a sabbatical...