Friday, Apr. 08, 1966
Pieced in Plastic
FASHION Pieced in Plastic
The effect was breathtaking. Out strode the model, clothed in nothing but wafer-thin plastic disks, each glinting with dazzling sun colors (hot orange, pink) and hung together with fine wires.
Next came a coat of mail in glistening silver that let a generous amount of skin go unprotected. Then came sun visors shaped like welders' helmets and oversized plastic earrings that dangled weightlessly at shoulder level.
It was the U.S. debut at Manhattan's Lord & Taylor of Jewelry Designer Paco Rabanne, at 32 the hit of Paris and overnight a whole industry in himself. Only last February, Paco presented a small experimental collection of disk dresses in his fifth-floor, walk-up Paris studio, and suddenly the rush was on.
Britain's Queen plunged with 14 pages, Harper's Bazaar put his work on last month's cover, and Vogue's current issue leads off with Top Model Donyale Luna (TIME, April 1) in one of Paco's shifts, which amply displays her body (models in the U.S. prefer to wear a body stocking underneath).
Sexy Mermaids. Bound to be seen everywhere this summer, if Paco's hand-crafters can keep up with demand and charge accounts can take the gaff (dresses begin at $300, simple earrings $4), Rabanne's disks were an instant hit with the models. "It makes such a nice clatter when you move," said one. "I feel like a sexy mermaid." What happens if you sit down? "You shouldn't; they're for dancing," was Paco's prompt retort. One model tried anyway, reported: "Not bad. It sort of slips away."
Paco himself sort of slipped into haute couture. As the son of Balenciaga's premiere (first seamstress) in San Sebastian, Spain, he grew up in the world of fashion. He set out to be an architect, studied at the Atelier Perret, then drifted into fashion design. "Fashion is the same process as architecture," he explains. "Both are concerned with very precise limits--in fashion, those of a woman's body." One reminder of his former studies is his white-pailletted hat, "directly inspired by Bucky Fuller's geodesic dome."
Clean-Cut & Brilliant. He began hitting his stride with plastic accessories. Then from sun goggles and huge choker necklaces the jewelry grew into whole dresses, until currently he buys 30,000 meter-square sheets of Rhodoid plastic a month. But production is still painstakingly slow: ten days for a short shift, 15 days for a long dress.
Paco is pleased but not surprised by his sudden success: "There was a need for a new concept of feminity," he explains. "Feathers and boas have no meaning for today's woman. She needs something clean-cut and brilliant." The ideal? "A shining rubber paint that would dry into a second skin."
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