FOR THE TREND-MAKER WHO CELEBRATES 40 YEARS IN FASHION THIS YEAR, LIFE KEEPS GETTING BIGGER AND BETTER. DESIGNER OSCAR DE LA RENTA HAS THE CLASS OF A GENTLEMAN AND THE STAYING POWER OF A SELF-MADE MAN

There is perhaps no one more adored in American fashion than Oscar de la Renta. Not only are his confectionary creations coveted by everyone from gamines to grannies, drag queens to First Ladies (four, in fact, hailing from both parties), socialites to Hollywood heavies, but a single disparaging word about the 73-year-old Latin legend cannot be found. This year marks his fortieth in an illustrious career built on making gowns both chic and cool—for anyone other than this gown-maker, a veritable mission impossible.

    The Dominican designer is full of grace and warmth in his two-floor Seventh Avenue headquarters in New York, replete with a studio, an atelier bustling with seamstresses, and a foyer made entirely of coral stone imported from his native Caribbean island. Every bit as flattering as one of his curve-hugging cocktail dresses, the man whose staff dutifully addresses him as “Mr. de la Renta” is the embodiment of charm and class. Wearing a light suit and a disarmingly permanent smile, he waxes nostalgic about his early days in the mid-’60s apprenticing for the Spanish couturier Cristóbal Balenciaga, delights in extolling high-profile clients ranging from beauty heiress Aerin Lauder to Sarah Jessica Parker (who became a fan after she played one on TV), and is comfortable detailing a strategy to roll out new, freestanding stores. For all of that, belonging to a more polite, pre-Halston generation that includes others of the gentleman variety—namely Bill Blass and Geoffrey Beene—de la Renta is not one to waste time chasing some elusive hip factor or pushing a cult of personality. That would be vain. Instead, the quintessential traditionalist and hopeless romantic maintains, as he always has, that he’s interested in only one thing: designing for women. Such fashion speak sounds contrived coming from a wet-behind-the-ears arriviste prone to confusing press with success, but it rings legit from his lips. “Never in the history of time has there been a woman as much in control of her destiny as a woman of today,” he elaborates, each word dripping with Latin inflection. “What’s important to her is a projection of her own sense of individuality. I used to design day clothes, afternoon clothes, cocktail clothes, evening clothes. That’s how I was trained, but I’ve had to ‘detrain’—can you use that word?—my mind. I am not old-fashioned at all.”

    That training began not in school but at the haute couture houses of Europe, where he cut his teeth along with his first piece of fabric. For the uninitiated, the history goes something like this. At 18, he left the nest of a large family in the Dominican Republic to study painting in Madrid. While there, an interest in fashion was sparked and he began an apprenticeship with Balenciaga. But he was soon bound for Paris to join Antonio Castillo as a couture assistant at the house of Lanvin before eventually heading off to the more moneyed shores of New York City—still his favorite place in the world—in 1963, launching his eponymous ready-to-wear line two years later. In the early ’90s, de la Renta returned to couture when he was tapped to head the legendary Balmain, making him the first American to design for a French couture house, before Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, and Narciso Rodriguez made the trek to work for their respective European fashion houses. There, he delivered a string of well-received collections, until in 2002 he became disheartened by that highest of fashion disciplines and opted instead to concentrate on his own line back in the States. His line, while not languishing, had become estranged. In a rare critical moment, he says, “I hated it [designing for Balmain]. I personally think that a lot of houses today only use couture as a vehicle for selling handbags and all the other stuff, but I think ultimately it undermines what couture means.”

    Not that he’s averse to merchandising. Today, the Oscar de la Renta brand is vast, to say the least. At the top is his sticker-shocking, recession-proof signature line. The very definition of opulence, examples include pink taffeta skirts festooned with bows, gala-destined bouffant evening gowns complete with shrugs, and cashmere trenches with mink trim. Then comes a recently launched accessories line of bags and shoes, joining other lines devoted to eyewear, furs, jewelry, lingerie, scarves, sleepwear, and scents for both men and women. One of those scents, Oscar perfume, debuted in 1977 and continues to be a best-seller, now available in over seventy countries. Meanwhile, last year de la Renta debuted O Oscar, a sportswear line for women, and he has even forayed into a home line of wallpaper, bedding, and rugs. Helping with the smooth operation of all things Oscar—still a privately-owned company—are his stepchildren, one of whom, Eliza Bolen, is the vice president of licensing (and there’s a lot of it, to the tune of $650 million annually). Her husband, Alex Bolen, is the CEO. Add to that his 20-year-old adopted Dominican son, Moises, who designed a T-shirt for Dad’s Spring 05 collection, causing something of a sensation as it was paired, in a cross-generational nod, with a ballskirt, and you have a truly family-run business.

    Achieving the American dream and living it out in charmed social swirls—i.e., hanging out with Gore Vidal pondering the decline of Truman Capote, rubbing shoulders with Mayor Bloomberg—de la Renta is bursting with sage advice. Given his gift as a raconteur, the grandfather of American fashion launches into story after tangential story, offering up bons mots as brightly colored as the silk chiffon that makes its way into his collections. Sometimes they end with cautionary maxims (“The day you say you don’t need to learn anymore is the day you have to start”), often they praise his staff (“Coming to work every day is like going to Disney World”), while other times they’re simply wise (“Good manners are always revealed in difficult times”).

    Above all, the grown but never old de la Renta is grounded in a higher cause. Never mind that he’s sat on the boards of the Metropolitan Opera and Carnegie Hall, or that he’s been bestowed a Lifetime Achievement Award from the CFDA (Council of Fashion Designers of America), among heaps of other prestigious accolades. When he’s not giving glamour to cashed-up jetsetterati, he’s giving back to the community. Indeed, his philanthropy is the height of his heroism. In one example of many, the designer explains: “In New York, I’m involved in the culture of the city. But in the Dominican Republic, I help run a children’s home, a kind of day care center for local children. It’s a very happy place with lots of singing and dancing.”

    Clearly Manhattan has become his new island home, yet where others in his position might turn their backs on all that came before, de la Renta sees his heritage as a source of inspiration and pride. He can often be found in Washington Heights—the largest population of Dominicans after Santo Domingo—where he indulges in its culture and cuisine, rice and beans being his dish of choice. “I’m a Dominican. It’s who I really am. It’s the fabric of who I am.”   

    Ever upbeat, he concludes, “There’s perhaps one very frivolous thing that a woman still indulges in on a daily basis. Regardless of where her mind is, at one point every day she looks in the mirror and wonders, ‘How do I look?’ For at least a moment, she thinks about who she is and what she wants to portray. In this way, fashion is full of possibilities.”
Lee Carter

Photography courtesy Oscar de la Renta Archives