The mode was so enjoyable
pointeur laser lampe de poche
It’s hard to pinpoint when Michael Kors first became a fashion designer. It might have been the moment when Dawn Mello, then-fashion director at Bergdorf Goodman, stopped by Lothar’s, the boutique on 57th Street where Kors was working as salesman/window dresser/in-house designer after dropping out of the FIT, and told him that if he ever went out on his own, she’d love to take a look at his collection. It might have been the moment in 1981 when he established his label, marking the launch of the estimated billion-dollar Michael Kors brand he runs today. But there is a good chance that it was much earlier than that.
As much of the world has come to understand from watching Michael Kors Outlet work as a judge on the reality-competition show Project Runway, he loves fashion—but not in the way that your average person loves fashion. Kors’s love is an inborn love, the kind of love that’s almost preternatural. He embraces the idea of fashion in the way that someone who considers themselves a humanist might embrace the idea of humanity. He is a believer in what it stands for, in what it is, in its potential—and though he understands its fundamental limits, flaws, and fallibilities, he still wants it all to be good, both for himself and for the betterment of the greater whole.
Michael Kors Outlet Online, who also did a stint as creative director of Céline from 1999 to 2003, was, of course, already well established as a designer when he began his run on Project Runway in 2004. But the platform of the show afforded him a new kind of cultural currency; suddenly, Kors was not just a successful designer, but an éminence grise of sorts known for his descriptive critiques of the creations trotted out before him. But upon closer inspection, even his greatest hits—who could forget old chestnuts like “Amish cocktail waitress,” or “transvestite flamenco dancer at a funeral,” or “She looks like a barefoot Appalachian Li’l Abner Barbie”?—have always been directed at pushing the contestants to try to be better, work harder, and aim higher. In fact, the idea that Michael Kors Handbags Outlet fashion might be throwaway or exist purely as a vehicle for provocation or as the product of some tortured, art-damaged process is as foreign to Kors as the idea that someone might not want to look nice or be happy. His own work bears out that ethos: His collections operate at the nexus of a kind of classically American, Jackie O-era notion of glamour and an equally American sporty pragmatism, at once supremely luxurious and eminently wearable, and in creating them, he has managed to find a sweet spot for women who, quite frankly, just want to feel good.
This year, which marks the 30th anniversary of his company, Michael Kors Handbags is in the process of overseeing a radical phase of global expansion, with new stores opening in Hong Kong, Tokyo, London, and Toronto, to go along with the coup-de-grace: a new 7,000-square-foot flagship on Rue St.-Honoré in Paris. Earlier this summer, he also kicked off his ninth season on Project Runway. Lauren Hutton recently caught up with the 52-year-old Kors at the West Village café Sant Ambroeus in New York City, where the two enjoyed a chat over breakfast.
LAUREN HUTTON: I wanted to ask you about growing up, because as we get older we start figuring out how we found our destinies, but it’s always in hindsight.
MICHAEL KORS: We also figure out why we are who we are, why we do what we do, why it looks the way it looks.
HUTTON: So, looking back, what loves and interests do you think helped form who you are?
KORS: Well, I grew up an only child.
HUTTON: Right. Your mom was a model.
KORS: My mom was a model. She had me at 20, so she was a young mother.
HUTTON: My mom had me young, too—also when she was 20.
KORS: So I had a young mom, young grandparents. Then my mom got remarried when I was 5.
HUTTON: Me too! Five and a half . . . Trauma . . . Big trauma.
KORS: I mean, hell-o! I was 5. I was like, “What’s this about?” But I guess when my mom married my birth dad, there was no gown, no nothing. It was like, “I’m 19 years old. Let’s just get married.” But for the second go-round, my grandparents wanted her to go full-tilt with the dress and the reception and everything. So I went with my mother to a fitting and told her that I thought the dress was fussy. Too many bows going on. And my grandmother was there, too, and she thought she was a style expert.