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In the midi campaign, Fairchild's principal strategists are Brady and June Weir, WWD's fashion editor, whom Fairchild made a vice president in a recent shakeup (and whom Jacques Tiffeau calls "a nun with a knife in both pockets"). Fairchild and Brady have been close friends ever since 1953, when John was covering the retail stores and Brady was working in Macy's advertising department. Weir came to WWD in 1954, also from Macy's, where she had been an assistant buyer. Fairchild first got the midi notion in 1966, says Weir, when he saw Zhivago-inspired coats in Paris. By the following spring, the look was beginning to show up in ready-to-wear collections, and Weir coined the word midi to describe it.
Bonnie and Clyde was the next step. Says Weir: "I saw Faye Dunaway in those soft sweaters and long skirts and those cunning little berets, and I thought that was one of the greatest things I'd ever seen." Fairchild and Brady thought so too, and WWD swung into action. "We weren't promoting the fashion," Weir insists. "We just went around Seventh Avenue and kept asking everybody if they were doing anything with it. And then, you know, there was a sort of chain reaction and we reported what was going on." WWD used plenty of space to report "what was going on," but even insiders at the paper admit that the Bonnie and Clyde campaign was a flop. Somewhat defensively, Weir says: "Well, there were smart women who were aware of the look. Chessy Rayner and Gloria Cooper certainly turned up in it, at least for evening wear."*
Wardrobe of Lengths
Two developments gave the midi something of a push. In his 1968 fall collection, Yves St. Laurent showed "city pants"—pants to wear to work, parties, restaurants and the theater. Fairchild is firmly convinced that pants on women are "gross," but he paid attention when Designer Marc Bohan told him that they would get the women used to the notion of covering up their mini-bared legs. The second event was the 1969 movie The Damned, a period-costumed portrayal of the decadence of 1930s Nazidom. Fairchild loved the long slinky dresses so much that he gave private screenings of the film for designers, retailers and manufacturers. WWD thereupon opened the way for the midi by coining the expression "wardrobe of lengths," meaning that any length was O.K., up to and including the micromini.
Then along came the big European shows in January of this year. Valentino presented a collection of long lengths in Rome, and Bohan did essentially the same in Paris. Most other top designers in Europe and the U.S. stayed with the "wardrobe of lengths" idea. But no matter. As Weir now recalls: "We made a decision. We decided to make a stand for the long length. We jumped right in on it with both feet." Brady adds: "We hit the development pretty hard. We went way out on a limb, saying this was the coming fashion before there was really hard evidence that it was."
Something Like Seduction
It is all terribly exciting—but dangerous as well. Fairchild and Women's Wear have pinned their reputation and influence to a sudden and dramatic change in fashion, and a lot of stores have bought accordingly.