Friday With Iris

Iris Apfel, New York’s grande dame of style, keeps a busy schedule as a colourful and curious fashion sensation. Arati Menonn gets a glimpse into her singular life, on the rare occasion that she’s sitting still

- Arati Menonn

Iris Apfel has just come up for air after the circus—as some would call it—that is New York Fashion Week. Apfel, a Fashion Week veteran who just turned 96, has diminishing interest in the big top. “It’s hideous. It’s so difficult to get anywhere on time,” she says. She barely had any time for the actual shows, even though Naeem Khan and Delpozo were on her radar. Most designers, she adds, have gone so far out they’re not relatable anymore. And then: “Is this the interview? Has it begun?”

Just to get this out of the way, Apfel is wearing a pink terry wool robe over black pants when we meet. Along with her signature thick-rimmed owlish glasses and a touch of lipstick. Yes, she wears terry cloth. Even Iris Apfel is off-duty sometimes.

Not very often, though. For this icon of style and eccentricity, who calls herself the “world’s oldest teenager”, life is running full-tilt. Apfel became famous at the age of 84—when the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute chose to present a fashion retrospective honouring her. Until then, she was well known in New York circles, but the exhibition trained a brighter spotlight on her exuberance and spunk. Apfel was a rara avis, a rare bird, with her brightly coloured Bakelite bangles, taffeta, feathered necklaces, and exaggerated glasses. From Ralph Lauren to M.A.C cosmetics and Jimmy Choo, product lines were launched as a tribute to her style. Then, two years ago came Iris, a documentary made by the legendary film-maker Albert Maysles. We are sitting in the very same Park Avenue home that forms the visual backdrop for the film, and Apfel is apologising for the disarray.