Alaïa, who started making dresses in Tunis for society women when he was just 16, is now 76, and is so physically fit he bounces out of bed at 8am to attend fittings. Habitually dressed in a collarless black suit and pumps, he frequently hosts salon dinners and lunches, surrounding himself with the brightest minds of a generation. On Saturdays he does field work – surveying Paris street life and meeting customers in store. The Alaïa universe is wide reaching and is rich in social and cultural capital. He has an extensive collection of art, fashion and books including a Coptic head that he bought on loan as a penniless émigré in Paris. He is also fascinated by technology. Apple launched its watch to the style public at Alaïa’s atelier situated on the Rue de Moussy.
Like the designer himself, Alaïa’s serpentine dresses, skater skirts that burst out like flowers, Perfecto jackets, Swiss lace shirts, riveted and studded exotic heels and pretty laser-cut leather bags have staying power. Nothing is extraneous, the proportions are timeless and the way his clothes move and skim and slim the body is feminine and effortless. Because of limited production and distribution, his designs remain exclusive.
One always feels dynamic and appropriate wearing Alaïa. If other guests might be wearing it too, rather than feel perturbed, one senses the camaraderie of like minds complicit in the appreciation of a true master.