My friend Jane makes suits and hats and purses that aren't copies of Chanel or other designer suits and dresses, but are "like" these suits and dresses -- and some people think she's cheating.
She's not. It's not in her nature, first of all, and it's also plain not possible. It's as impossible as copying a Givenchy or Elizabeth Arden scent. You may do better. You often do worse. But you never get the exact thing.
A Dior is a Dior is a Dior; and the clothes Jane and her partner make at Sew Beautiful By Natasha and Jane www.uniqueshoppes.com are no more "Dior" knockoffs than novels that are loosely inspired by reali life events (I've written a couple) are fact.
What her customers want, she says, is "custom couture clothing that never goes out of style" and is, for example, a "Chanel-type" suit.
It may seem as though she walks a fine line; but ready-to-wear designers rob from the classics all the time -- in the sense that no one can copyright a tunic or a bubble skirt. While Jane has a limited amount of Chanel fabric and buttons, she changes each garment so much to suit an individual's taste and body style that, in the end, a customer can only says, "Why yes, it is designer...." in the white-lie way a woman can say, "Why, yes, this is my natural hair color.."
A more important point is that Jane sells good feelings and craftsmanship to people who will never be able to afford the real deal -- and perhaps wouldn't feel moral spending $7,000 on a piece of clothing if they could do it. In fact, she explains, there are clothing manufacturers who do make exact copies. One is Alan B. Schwartz, who goes to Hollywood premieres and events with camera in hand, snaps photos and then immediately zips them to his pattern-makers who copy the styles instantly. His trade is the prom-as-Hollywood crows ( http://www.absstyle.com/red_carpet.php?dept=323) and though Jane says that Schwartz does very well, "He does exactly the opposite of what we do. He makes cheap copies in days, instead of constructing a classic garment over weeks.
Fairly or not, styles and flourishes -- from the Empire waist to the batwing sleeve -- can't be copyrighted. And if they could, ironically, designers who get so much attention from their imitators would be out of business.
"Designer fashion shows are for publicity, not for selling clothes," Jane says. They're meant to influence culture through clothing, and to create buzz. The super-wealthy who actually order a human-sized edition of the size-2 runway creation pay very, very, dearly and they are very, very much in the minority.
Jane rarely ever meets her customers. They send their measurements, after choosing a style and having several conversations about what changes would work best with a particular figure type and then -- as men of business have for decades, having suits made in Hong Kong -- receive their garments some weeks later. Only once has someone requested an exact copy; and Jane refused, even though legally, she was within her rights to do so, as is Schwartz.
Some of her garments, according to her customers, are actually more sturdy than true haute courture. The runway garment may be literally pinned onto the model, and designer clothes aren't intended to be made in lots of more than a few.
Jane's customer base is anchored by an actual woman, a size eight or ten, who waits, sometimes for years, to purchase a particular style of garment. And Jane waits until she's sure that garment has staying power before she offers it -- as she doesn't want to end up with bolts of peacock-colored chiffon after the transitory splash made by a single super-bodel's Oscar dresss.
It's an interesting business. And she's an interesting woman, complex and creative to the core. And in the tradition of writing here about interesting sights on interesting sites, hers is one to explore.
