Michael Kors, 1993

Kors hesitantly cites the 1970’s as an inspriation but what he really means are the ’30s. It’s an easy enough mistake as the ’70s mined its long lean line, relaxed volumes, and easy casual spirit from that post-depression, inter-war period, and so the two are not all that different. But as it was reprised in the early ’90s, in the form of minimalist luxurious sportswear, the essence is more true to that earlier decade. For Kors and Lauren it served as a refreshing inspiration, especially after a decade of excess, but they aren’t the first to realize it, Armani  had known all along.

Michael Kors, 1992

Explaining his latest collection to Elsa Klensch, Michael Kors speaks with a charming candor that would eventually serve him well in his second career as a fashion critic. You can certainly appreciate the unabashed frankness and lack of pretension as Kors cites country clubs, Newport beach, and Esther Williams as points of reference for his all-American creations. It’s a very matter-of-fact approach to designing; addressing the sometimes deadening reality rather than outlandish ego. How else can you achieve such gems like a trench coat in silk shantung, the T-shirt at night, or swarthy meters of tulle worn merely as an accessory? It’s not Kors’ modernist approach to American sobriety or his unapologetic homage to sportswear that endears you to him, it’s his tireless conviction and complete and utter lack of irony that nabs you. He’s not a designer trying to be something he’s not, and as simple as that sounds, it actually makes out to be one of the rarest qualities in fashion. His mission is to give glamour to women in the easiest way possible and once you get to realizing this it can lead to a wealth of interpretations of his work .

THIERRY MUGLER, 1988

Elsa Klensch takes a look at Mugler’s severe and sinister sensationalism.