Forget "style icon", Iris Apfel is a blazing explosion of a star: the over-used "icon" label is a pale, watery insult to her rich, individual elegance - a badly-made consommé to her triple-strength lobster bisque. Much is made of fashion/clothes/personal style as a form of creativity - consumption as self-expression. 99% of the time I am highly sceptical of such claims: 99% of the time, we buy and wear clothes because they have been successfully marketed to us, we have been sold an image ourselves which we strive to make material through the purchase and accumulation of various adornments. We have no more "created" our style, than we "create" our identikit catalougue Ikea kitchens. I do believe, however, that Iris Apfel is of the other 1%.
One feels that her life may have been worthy of a mid-century raunchy but worthy novel. Her name alone conjurs up all kinds of delicious visions (Iris Apple! - and, rather appropriately, Iris was the Greek personification of the rainbow, and acted as a godly messenger). The first painting she bought "might" be a Velazquez. She describes herself as a "geriatric starlet." Her jewellery collection includes necklaces made for elephants and horses. She and her husband have been responsible for providing curtains to nine US presidents. In 2005, the Met staged an exhibition of her clothes, accessories, and lifestyle entitled Rara Avis. A rare bird indeed, and a game one at that.
I hadn't heard of her until I was sideswiped by the above Apfel-frieze in the Guardian last month - and I feel that my life has been poorer for it. She has exudes sheer joy and love of life through every outfit she wears. I can't pretend that she isn't "fashion", because she is - she owns her fair share of Dior, Lanvin and Balenciaga, and has launched her own line of jewellery. But nevertheless, her style is entirely her own. She mixes and matches without inspiration from Vogue, Hollywood or anywhere else. The power of Iris is her indiduality and this is surely the message that we should take from her and her glorious look: wear what you have, wear what you like, mix and match however the hell you want. Don't spend your time, energy, your élan on emulating an impossible ideal.
Shame, then on the Guardian for their advice on how to Get the Iris Apfel Look.... I somehow don't think that a pair of Mango sunglasses and a French Connection necklace will transport me here:
CAN'T. GET. ENOUGH.
I hadn't heard of her until I was sideswiped by the above Apfel-frieze in the Guardian last month - and I feel that my life has been poorer for it. She has exudes sheer joy and love of life through every outfit she wears. I can't pretend that she isn't "fashion", because she is - she owns her fair share of Dior, Lanvin and Balenciaga, and has launched her own line of jewellery. But nevertheless, her style is entirely her own. She mixes and matches without inspiration from Vogue, Hollywood or anywhere else. The power of Iris is her indiduality and this is surely the message that we should take from her and her glorious look: wear what you have, wear what you like, mix and match however the hell you want. Don't spend your time, energy, your élan on emulating an impossible ideal.
Shame, then on the Guardian for their advice on how to Get the Iris Apfel Look.... I somehow don't think that a pair of Mango sunglasses and a French Connection necklace will transport me here:
Into the Gloss has a fascinating interview with Iris here, in which she talks about her early life in New York (crossing the river from the Long Island farm to "buy provisions" in Manhattan), and her beauty secrets (Cetaphil and something called Yatagan, apparently). What a completely fascinating woman - and now a Grey Gardens-style film is to be made about her life....
CAN'T. GET. ENOUGH.