Word: vreeland
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...name is no more familiar. But Diana (pronounced Deeann) Vreeland is better known than her anonymity tells; as the new editor in chief of Vogue Magazine, she is the professional bellwether to a certain special clique of chic. She has long been a flamboyant and energetic tastemaker; designers have been known to tremble at her nod, customers at private showings to pick purely what she picks, manufacturers and merchandisers to watch her every move with rapt fixation. She is, in fact, probably the single most fabled, venerated and respected backstage fashion force in the world today...
...Vreeland took over Vogue's helm only four months ago on the retirement of longtime (30 years) Editor Jessica Daves. Other editors, such as Harper's Bazaar's thoughtful, tranquil Nancy White, function in an atmosphere of relative calm; not so Deeann. In her 27 years at Harper's, most of them as fashion editor, she had already established her legend as a human maelstrom. She tore in and out of offices, trailing hats, belts, secretaries and photographers behind her, churned around designers at work, doing a touch of pinning here and there, patted on makeup...
Salt & Air. She was born and raised in Europe, where her father was a stockbroker, and her only training for her job was a schooling in the fashionable international life (she married Banker T. Reed Vreeland in 1924). "I had never THOUGHT of working," she explains, "and the only thing I knew was where to go to have my clothes made, so it seemed only NATURAL to go into fashion...
Still, Vogue and Vreeland are not about to endorse the bosom. Says Mrs. Vreeland: "Women should be thin. It's fit. It's the Middle Europeans who have always liked flesh. Probably in the Klondike it went rather big too. But think how much easier it is getting in and out of cabs without carting a big bust around, like a charwoman, in front of you." The look of the perfect woman? "First, she must be HEALTHY. Then there must be VANITY, do you know? In the best sense of the word. Next, physical, real physical vitality...
...Never on Sunday) Mercouri, smashing her way through ranks of lesser spectators to get to Dior's Marc Bohan. "It was magnificent! Fantastic! Extraordinaire!" "No," said Bohan, pale but for the thousand carmine kiss marks on his cheeks, "I was not nervous, just a little worried." Said Mrs. Vreeland: "My dear, how really truly completely MARVELOUS...