To hear Michael Kors tell it, women in Houston have no trouble finding a reason to don a full suite of diamonds—or emeralds or sapphires—in the daytime. And if he’s in town for a trunk show, they really dress up. “The last time I was there, Lance was like, ‘I don’t understand. Why are they wearing evening clothes? It’s twelve noon,’ ” Kors recalls. “I said, ‘They’re excited we’re here.’ ” Of course they were. Kors is the most personable designer in fashion, always chatting . . . and always listening. “You hear women say, ‘I was stuck in my over-the-head fur and couldn’t get it on at the coat check,’ ” he says. “We learned you must hide a zipper somewhere. Or if the coat has a belt, it falls, and you leave it.”
For pre-fall, he solved the belt conundrum by simply attaching them to the coats. And what coats they were, particularly the charcoal felted flannel with a crisscross lapel that buckled, harness-like, and the cleanly cut, pony-hair balmacaan in a black-and-white oil-splattered pattern that was inspired by Richard Avedon’s landmark work, In the American West. Kors’s other major influence was the spectacular Ann Bonfoey Taylor exhibit at the Phoenix Art Museum. The result was a collection that fused a cowboy sense of romance with Taylor’s equestrian chic: a long ruffle skirt with a cutaway hem in a graphic check, devoré silk dresses in turquoise and crimson, the most delicate peasant top in Chantilly lace.
Known as a designer advocating simplicity and conciseness, Michael Kors enjoys a good reputation all over the world and his works has been appreciated by quite many a celebrity.