Word: yves
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Yves' designs? Taxis, chairs, doorways aren't big enough for these enormous skirts." And, some asked, how often will a woman get to wear such fantasy clothes? As the perennially best-dressed Mrs. William McCormick ("Deeda") Blair Jr., of Washington and international society, said in Paris, "It's not every day of my life I'd want to look like a Ukrainian peasant!" (She has not yet put down any kopeks for one of Saint Laurent's new creations...
Some of the bitterest attacks came from Saint Laurent's compatriots, who have a fairly good history of deploring innovation in the arts. "I'm a friend of Yves," expostulated Le Figaro's fashion editor Viviane Ch. Greymour. "But I didn't congratulate him on this collection! It's folklore, a show, theater, dreams." Another complaint-as if buyers of haute couture rode the subway -was that Yves' cloaks and skirts are "too wide to pass through the Metro turnstiles." The unkindest cut came from a jury voting during the week of the showing...
...best collection. But it is my most beautiful collection." As for practicality, he snorts: "In haute couture you can't think about it. My clothes are addressed to women who can afford to travel with 40 suitcases"-each single bag, of course, bearing the magic Y.S.L. logo. If Yves is fou, wise men should study madness...
...Saint Laurents, an old and distinguished family from Alsace, settled in the then French territory of Algeria in the 19th century. Yves, who was born in the port city of Oran, still feels drawn to the silky, sun-baked lands of North Africa-no longer to the Algeria of his childhood, now an austere socialist state, but to laissez-faire Morocco. There, at his magnificent Arab-style palace in the ancient fortress city of Marrakech, the designer talked at length last week with TIME Paris Bureau Chief Gregory Wierzynski about his aims, his dreams and his worries. Wierzynski...
...peak of his profession, a confident and gracious man. He is pale, despite the Sahara sun, but seemingly healthy. His life with Pierre Berge, his business partner and intimate of 15 years, has probably been as harmonious as most marriages. Yet beneath the patina of assurance, Yves Saint Laurent is a tortured soul, a self-avowed neurotic who is still recovering from an unhappy childhood and the trauma of his brief service in the French army (he spent two months in a solitary psychiatric cell). "Yves," says Berge, "was born with a nervous breakdown." Says Yves himself: "I am ridden...