J.Crew’s design guru learns to embrace star status
Jenna Lyons and I have made plans to meet in a quiet corner of the Café Boulud at the Four Seasons.
“If she goes anywhere near the store, she’ll be just mobbed,” the PR warns.
I thought that was an overstatement, until every head turns to get a glimpse of the 6-foot design guru striding into the restaurant in her signature oversized black-rimmed spectacles, JCrew ensemble of a cream-lined navy jacket over a striped blouse, ripped jeans and gold loafers.
Now a bonafide celebrity, who pops up on the gossip pages and in cameos on HBO, the instantly recognizable Lyons, who is president and executive creative director of JCrew as well as president of its younger sister line Madewell, insists she still finds her iconic status surprising.
“Never in a million years did I imagine this for myself,” says Lyons. “I mean, I work at a clothing store! I’m not an actress. But I think a lot of it is because social media has changed our idea of what a celebrity looks like.”
As to her own look, which via JCrew has redefined what American style looks like in an irreverent, nerd-chic way for the post-millennial generation, Lyons describes it as a natural by-product of growing up in California in the ’80s.
“My grandmother, who was on the east coast, would send me all these beautiful traditional Fair Isle sweaters and navy blazers, and even though it was like 79 degrees, I would wear them to school with surf T-shirts and ripped jeans. Or a wool kilt with penny loafers and a Sex Pistols or Black Flag T-shirt.”
Lyons took style notes from the nonchalance of her mother, who wore her pearls and good cashmeres from her Vassar days with holes in the sleeves, and pictures of a young Lauren Hutton, in ripped-off jean shorts and the crispest of white men’s shirts.
“Jackie Kennedy was one of the first to wear denim and pearls,” says Lyons. “It’s a mashup of casual sportswear with a touch of elegance that looks really cool because at its essence is contradiction.”
Despite an enormous and packed closet plus a warehouse storage unit for her burgeoning personal collection ( jokes Lyons, “I’m predisposed to purchase an inordinate amount of outerwear. And I have the free world’s supply of white shirts”), Lyons is not ruled by nostalgia.
“In the ’50s and ’60s, everybody looked the same,” says Lyons. “What was happening at Dior was trickling down to Butterick patterns. Now, given the level of speed behind change, we can no longer talk about fashion in decades. And everybody is looking different.”
In Lyons’ view, the two most influential directions right now are at Balmain and Gucci. “They are dramatically opposed: at Balmain, influenced by Kanye and Kim, this amped-up beauty and sexuality that feels like a whole different genre, and at Gucci, suddenly this ethereal gender fluidity, and bonkers colour without a trace of overt sexiness. That’s a pretty stunning divide and commentary.”
But where she still gets her ideas from is in the mix. “I’ll see someone wear something in a way I hadn’t thought of, and I’ll get inspired,” says Lyons, whose interpretations have become an almost dress-bynumber guide for her many followers via the 13 mail-order catalogues she oversees each year that deliver her style message to millions.
For the record, Lyons’ eyeglasses are prescription, they come from Sol Moskot and the frame is called the Mensch. Wannabe icons may be disappointed to learn it has been retired — ever since Lyons’ picture went up on the wall right next to hip-hop artists Run-D.M.C. Karen von Hahn is a Toronto-based writer, trend observer and style commentator. Contact her at kvh@karenvonhahn.com.