Opinion Iris Apfel, the 102-year-old defied fashion’s ageist standards

Apfel’s line of work sparked her interest in collectibles, antiques and odds and ends, such as porcelain cats, dolls, gilded mirrors, bejewelled vases and fruits and stuffed birds — all of which found representation in the clothes she made and wore. She also collected clothes during her travels, developing a deep respect for native weaves and traditions. That’s how Apfel’s baroque excess harmonised into an original masterpiece. Nothing was an oddity or insignificant; everything fell in place. And there was always a method to the madness.

So be it an haute couture gown in metallic hues or the brightest reds and yellows, a feathered cape or a silken scarf, Apfel could accessorise anything with multicoloured bangles from a flea market, a long necklace of street-side beads and a designer choker of precious stones worth over a million. As she walked down the streets of New York City in high boots, with her fingers covered in tribal rings, the pantomime costume would turn into the latest benchmark of boho-chic. She democratised and repurposed fashion, made it eclectic, gender agnostic, accessible and breathable. “Life is grey and dull. You might as well have some fun dressing up,” she had said in a documentary on her life by Albert Maysles.

It is by breaking the ageist stranglehold on an industry that equates glamour with youth and good looks that this silver-haired genius convinced everybody that “it’s nice to be old.” Her exuberant presence in fashion week front rows was not about compulsive reverse-ageing, but about the right of everyone to express themselves with abandon. Iconoclasm comes easy to celebrities but Apfel gave that right to everybody and became a cultural icon in her 80s, more so after the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York showed her wardrobe in an exhibition called ‘Rara Avis’ at its Costume Institute in 2005. In 2018, at 96, she inspired a line of Barbie dolls mirroring her fashion sense. The following year, at 97, she signed a modelling contract with IMG at the insistence of Tommy Hilfiger and at 100, she collaborated with H&M for a fashion line. She was not a mere rebel, or “a whacko” as some critics pointed out — she believed that even old people had a right to the fullness of being, rather than being seen as a geriatric liability.

As a woman, Apfel had broken many moulds, choosing not to have children without explaining why and adopting fluid lines that didn’t pressure women to get into shape and conform to classic cuts.

Apfel died in the middle of Paris Fashion Week. Perhaps to remind us to fight for the front row with originality of ideas rather than unquestioning acquiescence. That alone would make people sit up and take notice. As would her last book, due in August. Aptly, it’s called Colourful.

rinku.ghosh@expressindia.com