Geriatric starlet Iris Apfel’s posthumous book is full of bon mots.
Iris Apfel photographed for a portrait during her 100th Birthday Party at Central Park Tower on Sep 9, 2021 in New York City. (Photo: Noam Galai/Getty Images for Central Park Tower/AFP)
ris Apfel, who died in March this year aged 102, was one of a kind. At 96 she had already become the oldest person to have a Barbie doll made in her image and was in the rare position of being a centenarian fashion influencer or self-described “geriatric starlet”. In 2005, aged 84, she was the first living person, other than a fashion designer, to have an exhibition of her wardrobe at the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, titled Rara Avis. “Thank you for showing us fashion doesn’t have an age limit,” was one of the tributes paid after her death, by costume designer Charlese Antoinette.
Apfel was an interior designer. In 1950 with her husband Carl she founded Old World Weavers, which made luxurious reproductions of historical fabrics that they found on their international travels, everywhere from Capri to Pakistan. A tiger-striped silk velvet became a hit design, and her restoration projects included The White House. It was after the Rara Avis exhibition that she was catapulted to the status of “accidental icon” of fashion, as the world woke up to her joyful, colourful, maximal approach to style, reflected in her mantra “More is more and less is a bore.”
It was just one of many bon mots coined by Apfel, and many more are to be found in her posthumous book Colourful. She started writing it in the summer of 2023, collating photos taken throughout her life, and unseen textile designs. She writes in the introduction: “This is not a book of secrets — I have no secrets. Sorry to disappoint you if that’s what you’re looking for. I have some good stories though. And a few ideas.” And indeed the book offers a rich tapestry of inspiration that outshines any Instagram scroll, with six chapters exploring her theories on creativity and style.
One of my favourite anecdotes is about how she got her hands on a pair of jeans in an era when women rarely wore them, which shows the power of having confidence in your convictions. She writes that “Women didn’t wear jeans. They couldn’t buy jeans. They weren’t a fashion item in the late 1930s and early 1940s. I was met with confusion and a hint of dismay when I asked for them at the army-navy store in Wisconsin, where I was at college. But I had this big gingham turban and big earrings that I felt would be perfect with a crisp shirt and work jeans.” The shopkeeper initially said “‘Don’t you know, young ladies do not wear jeans. What’s wrong with you?’” But thanks to Apfel’s perseverance, returning to the shop week after week, he eventually ordered her a pair of boy’s jeans. The result? “The outfit was just as smashing as I had imagined. I still wear men’s jeans; they fit me better. They became my thing.”
The book is a paean to fun. If ever you are worried that an outfit is overdoing it, or too much, consider some of Apfel’s own favourite things: “A purse shaped like a dog; ladybug bracelets; holiday decorations all year round.” Apfel wasn’t just unique, she was Christmas come early.