Iris – open today on limited release – barely scratches the surface of its exotic subject, but has a message for all women, writes Voxfrock editor, Janice Breen Burns.
Iris Apfel doesn’t do pretty. She never was pretty in the classic sense, and in director Albert Maysles’ wonderful documentary IRIS, of her latter life, she declares simply; “I don’t like pretty.” Which is fortuitous. Because, what Iris Apfel is, is memorably, marvellously, Not Pretty.
From Rare Bird of Fashion, Thames and Hudson
In her long and rich life she has been at various times striking, exotic, intriguing, spectacular, all of the above. Iris is all the styletypes virtually abandoned by fashion decades ago and replaced with the pithy trinity of “young, slim, sexy” that we understand to be feminine/fashionable priorities today. (Iris does, however, have “slim” nailed and tends to be mildly scathing of women who don’t.)
From: Rare Bird of Fashion, Thames and Hudson
How strange, in this youth obsessed society, that she is also so elderly (93 in the film), so wrinkled and grey-haired, everything women are routinely encouraged to feel shame about, and to correct immediately. Iris appears not to give a toss. “Don’t fret too much about the advent of old age,” she says. “The alternative is most unpleasant. A few wrinkles won’t do you in.” She knows there are solutions, of course, (Botox springs to her mind) and good luck to women who make that invasive choice but, it never occured to her. “Better heed the warning that Coco Chanel supposedly gave,” she says, “Nothing makes a woman look so old as desperately trying to look young.” Amen.
Photograph: Eric Boman
From Rare Bird of Fashion, Thames and Hudson
Before last week’s media screening of Iris, I rummaged at the back of my fashion library for photographer Eric Boman’s Rare Bird of Fashion (Thames and Hudson, 2007). It was published after the first exhibition of her extraordinary collection of jewellery, accessories and clothing was initiated and curated by Harold Koda at The Costume Institute of New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. If you can track down a copy, I highly recommend your pore over it before or after you see the film. The photographs posted here are from that book (in turn, from Iris’s personal albums) and, I think, flesh out a little what Albert Maysles’ camera could only glance: her marvellous history.
With husband Carl, from Rare Bird of Fashion, Thames and Hudson
Iris and her amazing wardrobe are the sum of that past. Iris was a gregarious and funny child, passionate writer, glamourous maverick interior decorator who took risks and made powerful friends, relentless traveller, bowerbird and connoisseur, besotted lover and devoted wife. (Her husband and best chum, Carl, as youthful as she is, turns 100, and hosts a party shot by Bill Cunningham, during the filming of Iris.)
Iris is striking in Maysles’ film for her impeccable grooming and vast collection of vintage couture and rare ethnic treasures. (Listen to the clankclackclack of those legendary bangles and beads.) “I like big and bold and lots of pizzazz.” But, the backstories of her flashes of sassy wit and warmth, her occasional bluntness and youthful chatter are teased out in the autobiographical pages of Rare Bird of Fashion. Like the title of a complex artwork, the meaning of Iris, and the thousands of glorious, worldly reasons she’s never had to rely on “pretty”, truly crystallize.
“Style is quite impossible to define, but I’ll give it a go…it must be real – yours – not a slavish copy of someone else’s. Studying yourself to learn who you really are can be painful but it’s crucial to be curious, as style can become a creative solution for personal shortcomings….” Iris Apfel.
For your chance to win one of five double passes to the film, email your name and postal address to info@voxfrock.com.au
