Fashion Designer Geoffrey Beene Dies

By Matt Schudel
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, September 29, 2004; Page B06

Geoffrey Beene, the fashion designer whose classic, form-flattering designs shaped women's wardrobes for the past four decades, died Sept. 28 at his Manhattan apartment of pneumonia. He was 77.

Mr. Beene, who gave up the study of medicine in favor of fashion design, often seemed to be the voice of moderation and simplicity in an industry that thrived on shock and excess. His clothes, which he had designed under his own name since 1963, captured an American aesthetic of casual grace, an elegance that could hold its own in a ballroom or on the street. Mr. Beene was often described as an artist whose medium was fabric.

"He is the leading American designer today," Nina Hyde wrote in The Washington Post in 1987, "and the most cerebral."

He was known for his innovative use of materials, such as ball gowns made of flannel, dinner dresses made of tweed and the unlikely pairing of leather and lace. His designs were worn by first ladies and movie stars as well as countless ordinary women who simply wanted to be stylish.

He won eight Coty Awards -- the fashion world's Oscar -- and a place in the Fashion Hall of Fame in 1974.

He gave his own definition of fashion in a 1987 interview with The Post: "It's a visual art and an emotional sensing. It has to do with feeling good in a second skin, and how others perceive you. With clothes or perfume, one approaches as psychologically close as one could get to another person."

Mr. Beene held such a strong influence over young designers that in 1988, when he was 61, he was included as an honorary "young designer" in a show of the fashion world's new stars. His clothes were boldly contemporary yet maintained a foundation in the classic shapes of the past. Perhaps because of his anatomy studies in college, he had an uncanny understanding of the human form and the flow of the body in motion.

"Beene can create mystery in a seam," The Washington Post's Robin Givhan wrote in 1999, "as he allows it to meander along the curve of a woman's torso and then blossom into a flirtatious pleat. . . . It's not simply skill that is on display in Beene's work. There is also joy."

Along with Bill Blass, Mr. Beene was given credit for helping New York supplant Paris as the fashion capital of the world in the 1960s. With each passing season, Mr. Beene seemed to come up with a new look that captured the spirit of the times. In his designs for the mid-1960s, he adopted a loose fit, with relaxed waistlines and flared skirts. By the end of the decade, he was borrowing the materials of the youth movement, denim and sweatshirt fabric, for use in more elegant settings. In the 1970s, he introduced pullover shirt-dresses as well as silk trouser suits and pajama-style evening wear.

"Each season I try to achieve a greater simplicity," he said as early as 1964. "The more you learn about clothes, the more you realize what has to be left off."

From the 1960s and well into the 1990s, he seemed at the same time to be leading fashion in new directions, while above all its more egregious trends.

"His work always reflects who you are," designer Paloma Picasso once said. "He's on another level, removed from the infights of the fashion world."

Within two years of his tenuous debut in 1963, when he barely scraped together the cash to open his own design house, Mr. Beene was selling $4 million worth of clothes to the country's leading department stores. By the late 1980s, when his empire had expanded to include jackets, swimwear, sportswear, men's clothing, scarves, jewelry, shoes and fragrances, his sales totaled more than $200 million a year.

"I am not much for trends," Mr. Beene said in 1998. "If you have your own vision, one uses it. You don't need that of another."

Mr. Beene was born in Haynesville, La., on Aug. 30, 1927, the son of a car dealer. His mother, who came from a long line of doctors, encouraged him to study medicine. He was pre-med at Tulane University for three years but found himself sketching women's dresses when he was supposed to be listening to lectures.

In 1946, his family sent him to the University of Southern California to continue his studies, but he took a job designing displays for the I. Magnin department store instead. In the late 1940s, he studied at the Traphagen School of Fashion in New York; he later studied drawing and sewing in Paris.

Years later, he asked his mother, "How could you not realize that I was more interested in ladies' pajamas than scalpels and cadavers?"

In the 1950s, Mr. Beene worked for Harmay, a ready-to-wear house in New York, then took a job with designer Teal Traina. He began to earn a name in his own right, with low-waisted flapper-style skirts. By 1963, he was on his own, giving women a fresh new look. Both his men's and women's clothing, with their straight lines and neutral colors, were strongly influenced by films he had seen while growing up in the 1930s and 1940s.

"I prefer being sensuous to sexy," he said. "There is a great difference. Having been born in the South, respect for women was instilled in us at an early age."

Mr. Beene, who was known for his big-framed glasses, gave elegant Sunday night dinner parties at his New York apartment. Nevertheless, he was a disciplined worker who rose every day at 5:10 a.m. He visited New York's flower markets before arriving at his desk at 7 a.m. At his weekend home on Long Island, he had greenhouses full of orchids.

He remained an active designer until his death. Survivors include a sister.

Once asked what made him happiest, Mr. Beene replied, "In the end, the most rewarding thing for a designer is to see his clothes worn."

The Link [washingtonpost.com]

They make great clothes especially Dress Shirts.

Time to plant another Beene.

I will truely not miss the person. Sorry he died, death is enevitable; fashion is not.