On the other end of the spectrum we have restrained Polly Mellen. The Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue fashion editor, an acolyte of Diana Vreeland, was a fixture on the fashion circuit well into her ninth decade. Mellon was a noted collaborator of photographer Helmut Newton, and together they created many racy and indelible images that set the tone for the ’80s and ’90s.
Her signature bob was proudly and robustly grey for many decades. Mellen embraced the shade long before it was fashionable. She also embodied the quintessential New York all-black wardrobe, wearing very strict, uniform-like easy pieces: slim capri pants, fitted V-neck sweaters, white blouses and simple tank dresses. Occasionally she would add a grey sweater to the mix. The combination of the crisp line of her bob and the neat, simple clothing made her stand out during the excess of the ’70s and ’80s eras, ushering in the minimalism of the ’90s.
What we can learn from Mellen is that finding your vibe and sticking with it through all the seasons of fashion will make you memorable. The job of a stylist is a physical one, involving a lot of schlepping and kneeling and pinning and long hours. Mellen dressed in a practical manner, in high-quality pieces of exquisite simplicity. She died at 100, mid-December.
The third great style icon we lost this year was Dame Maggie Smith, who died aged 89 in September. The star of the hot Spanish label Loewe’s spring 2024 ad campaign, Smith became an instant style inspiration for generations who only knew her as Professor McGonnagal in Harry Potter and Lady Violet Crowley in Downton Abbey.
Smith, who looked smashing in period costume, wowed in a vast range of theatrical and cinematic roles, in works from Henrik Ibsen to Harold Pinter to Robert Altman, with a memorable turn as Rosalind in As You Like It in Stratford, Ont.. She will be best remembered for her Oscar-winning performance in 1969’s The Prime of Miss Jean Brody, where she wore prim but beautifully tailored teacher’s clothing. In her personal life, as WWD explored after her death, Smith was often seen in both mod and sleek pantsuits. They suited her, as did the magnificent embroidered and velvet opera coats she took to later in life. This last is a great style tip to gather from Smith’s life in the spotlight, as one terrific coat can make formal occasions much less daunting. Wear the pants underneath, as the coat is all anyone will see, or remember!
This year also saw the passing of a number of other celebrities who affected the style universe. There was singer-songwriter and actor Kris Kristofferson, who died in September aged 88: the long, wavy hair and ginger beard was the epitome of louche ’70s male grooming trends. Often seen with his shirt off in those years, Kristofferson wore working-man denim and plain white tees his whole life. Timeless.
We lost two other ’70s icons: Michael Cole, 84, who played Pete on The Mod Squad; and David Soul, 80, who was the Hutch in Starsky & Hutch (Hutch was a far cooler character than Pete). Cole’s memoir acknowledges he couldn’t keep up with the style moves of Clarence Williams III and Peggy Lipton. He called his 2018 book I Was the White Guy. Soul’s Hutch, however, stands up to the test of time, with those wide-collared, open-chested shirts under leisure suits achieving full hall-of-fame groovy status.
Everyone didn’t have to be groovy, though. Two other losses this year belong in the category of Thinking Women’s Sex Symbols: Teri Garr, 80, star of Tootsie and Young Frankenstein; and Gena Rowlands, 94, who shone in Woman Under the Influence, Gloria and later, The Notebook. Both women had really great hair. Rowlands was known for her classic pageboy and Garr had a feathered cut to rival Farrah Fawcett. But more importantly, they both expressed heart and vulnerability on screen and off. They didn’t need to play the bombshell card to be timeless beauties.
Canada’s own Donald Sutherland was a giant of the silver screen. He made a moustache work in nearly every era of fashion. His characters were legends, from his insouciant Hawkeye Pierce in M*A*S*H, to the grieving husband in the incredibly sexy horror flick Don’t Look Now, to detective John Klute, to the evil Coriolanus Snow in the Hunger Games trilogy. Sutherland lent style and substance to every role he touched. The guy had a great head of hair, and a fulsome beard and it added swagger to the wide range of his character-driven oeuvre. Men can learn careful grooming from him to win friends and influence people. But looking at photos of him off-duty, following his death earlier this summer, the piece of clothing that stands out is a hat worn at a rakish angle. It screams boulevardier, it announces an interesting person’s brain is underneath the brim. Sutherland’s image was indelible on film, as in life, because he took the time to add a flourish, a detail, an imprint, on every look he wore, on and off screen. We can all take a lesson from that.
Always asking questions,
—Leanne Delap
