Welcome to the world of Halston
We are going to party like it’s 1979.
Ryan Murphy is going to make sure of it.
The prolific producer of baroque fare, who has made a funhouse mirror out of so many milestones from the past recently — everything from the O.J. Simpson trial to the slaughter of Gianni Versace to the meow-fest between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford — is amping now for his latest: a limited series, out this month, about the rise and fall of Halston. Spin that disco ball! Starring, indeed, Ewan McGregor in the role of the definitive designer of the disco era, the one whose runway shows were once dubbed “the art form of the ’70s” by Andy Warhol.
There is, no doubt, much to be mined in such a bio-series: air kisses and hob knob, drugs and debauchery, those socalled Halstonettes including Liza Minnelli and Elsa Peretti. And, alas, in the middle of it all: the man born Roy Halston Frowick, who eventually remade himself with his middle name and first rocketed to fame in 1961 when he designed the iconic pillbox hat that Jacqueline Kennedy wore at her husband’s inauguration. By the end of that decade he had his own design label synonymous with a new modernism as a mode of luxury. The man, who, as André Leon Talley told me over the phone the other week, was very much the “nucleus” of the whole Studio 54 scene, adding that “Halston was there at least three nights a week. He was a very glamorous man.”
Creating a synergy of glamour that was pure manna for the Beautiful People, he “combined the snob appeal of a society courtier with the fashionable allure of a New York night owl,” as his biographer, Steven Gaines, has described. Not only that, but he was the first to really brand himself in what was then a rising American tide of fashion (a harbinger of men like Calvin Klein and Tom Ford) and the first to demand African-American models in all of his shows (nurturing relationships with catwalk phenoms like Pat Cleveland).
For Murphy, though, it is all that, but also something much more personal that drew him to Halston: like the designer, he too was a gay kid growing up in Indiana — years later, but long before he would become a household name himself with shows like “Glee.” And it was there, “surrounded by cornfields and churches,” as he tells the new Vogue, that Halston loomed like an impossible-to-shake figure for him.
Another easy-peasy reason for “Halston,” the series: the set-design possibilities! For a man whose houses were almost as famous as he was during his time, this was what thrilled me most when I heard about the series (besides the fact that I had heard Ewan had learned to drape for the role!). Murphy, fortunately, confirms that they did spend a lot of time on the interiors, reinforcing what he believes was a central Halston tenet: “Your surroundings matter. You create a world, and people are invited to that world.”
Consequently, architecture fiends will be pleased to hear that we will get a reimagining of the famous Halston home at 101 East 63rd St., designed by Paul Rudolph. As famous for being one of the great midcentury modern homes in Manhattan — its façade made of steel and glass, sticking out from its neighbouring brownstone mansions — as it was once for its parties, its threestorey white living room was where the glitterati came and where the menu, as Gaines had written, typically consisted of caviar, a baked potato and cocaine.
The avant-garde design of the house also added to the edgy atmosphere, as legend has it: “There was no railing on the stairs at the house,” Halston’s niece once told the New York Post. “Champagne and no rails. But that was the thrill of it: to be on the edge of an extreme experience.” (The house changed hands several times, but more recently none other than Tom Ford bought it.)
But that’s not all, lair-wise. At the height of his success, Halston moved his business into sumptuous premises occupying the entire 21st floor of Olympic Tower, which then became iconic in its own right. Overlooking St. Patrick’s Cathedral on 51st Street, the building was the handiwork of Aristotle Onassis and a pioneer on Fifth Avenue in its mix of both commercial and residential. He was at the top of the world! Literally. Described as “a hall of mirrors floating in the sky,” his glass box — where fashion shows were held — was tempered by a dark red carpet. “Living high up in New York, everything is gray (sic). I needed something that would stabilize the space so the room wouldn’t float,” as Halston explained.
He was riding high — until he wasn’t. By 1983, business was shrinking, due to overexpansion and licensing overkill. Then came the sting of AIDS (even if it was only whispered at the time). Halston burned bright and fabulous — for such a relatively short time, when all is said and done — but the myth endures.
Ryan Murphy is making sure of it.
He was the first to really brand himself in what was then a rising American tide of fashion
The limited series “Halston” hits Netflix on May 14.
Twitter: @shinangovani