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The industry pros looked further ahead. Couture was comatose at the time, badly in need of inspiration. Poor Yves Saint Laurent! For 20 years he had played the role of fashion's high priest, consistently rewarding his flock with flawless designs, but somehow all that perfection became boring, and the designer himself ever more remote.
Some commentators predicted that Lacroix was too extreme and too irreverent to last, but he has only strengthened his position. Frustrated at Patou's reluctance to start a ready-to-wear line, he abruptly left in 1987, chased by a $13.1 million lawsuit. With Jean-Jacques Picart, a close friend on the business side of Patou, he set up his own house, backed by Agache, the conglomerate that also owns Dior.
The partners' next move will be good news for women who would like to wear Lacroix but not pay his couture prices (for evening wear: typically $8,000 to $18,000). In March they will plunge into off-the-peg. The first collection of about 100 pieces, including some in leather and knits, will be sold in only 110 stores worldwide (price range: $300 to $8,000). Says Lacroix: "There will be no flowers, no ruffles, no bustles, but color, proportion, good cut."
Lacroix and Picart, 40, have already moved into an innovative luxe line, a kind of super ready-to-wear. With an average price of $4,100, the clothes are selling briskly. Bergdorf Goodman says it took $330,000 worth of orders in two days. Saks Fifth Avenue bought 27 styles, or most of the line. "I'm not sure I've ever seen quite as much of a phenomenon," says Ellin Saltzman, the store's fashion director, who remembers the '60s frenzies over Rudi Gernreich and Andre Courreges. Of such skyrocketing designers, she says, "I think it's scary for them."
But the staff (average age: 30) at Lacroix's salon on the splendid Faubourg St.-Honore exudes confidence. On the morning after last week's show, a pretty young American wisely arrived early to make a purchase: while Lacroix had presented 58 costumes, the house can deliver a total of only 120 pieces. She sighed, snapped shut her purse and said, "Oh well, another $9,000 on the American Express card." She is among the youthful clients haute couture should never have lost and whom Lacroix is luring back. Picart speaks proudly of Lacroix's popularity with show-business people, who usually do not frequent the couture. "People like Faye Dunaway and Bette Midler are in a profession of appearances," he says. "They are glad to find street clothes reminiscent of their stage costumes, and they are glad to find that we're not uptight."
With a salon where you can settle down, fool around with the clothes and schmooze with -- or at least step over -- the grand master, Lacroix is attracting other wealthy young people accustomed to haute ready-to-wear. Living for the city lights, they are the type who might sport a subtle Issey Miyake one night, an elegant Giorgio Armani the next.
Lacroix's casual panache is what draws many young clients. Picart says many may buy only one outfit, and it may be a gift from a relative. The house does a big wedding business. In fact, Lacroix's first garment under his own logo was for the marriage of Pia de Brantes, a well-connected Paris publicist. What she got was a bright pink snap-together gown: the skirt and sleeves came off after the solemnities to reveal a hot little disco number.