It Was Always Clear Who Was the Boss

WORKING FOR: DIANA VREELAND, 1976

- Wendy Goodman

1978: Halston (center) at his office in the Olympic Tower on Fifth Avenue. He had the entire 21st floor, including workrooms, a showroom, and design rooms.

Sharp Pencils. No Crusts. And a Shot of Scotch.

It was always an event to get access to Diana Vreeland’s office in the basement of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the same floor as the Costume Institute, where she worked after being fired from Vogue in 1971. You didn’t get in unless you had a vetted appointment through her personal assistant, who would usher you into her sanctum, which was painted a deep lacquer red. There was natural light from one window high up in the wall covered with a grid of thick security bars that looked like ones from a Renaissance palace.

Mrs. Vreeland’s desk was covered in red oilcloth, with two rattan trays holding papers and yellow legal pads. She almost always had lunch at her desk, so if she invited you for lunch, that was where it would be. Her chair was aluminum with a red pillow. You sat opposite her. She had a green Rigaud candle and then, within the striped black-and-white candle container, a set of pencils, each honed to the sharpest point possible. She had an array of Pentel markers in red and green to use for emphasis on memos. Mrs. Vreeland’s chicken sandwich on white bread, no crusts, was delivered from William Poll on Lexington Avenue, and with that, she had a small shot of Scotch. When she didn’t have a chicken sandwich, she had a peanut butter and jelly, also from William Poll—white bread, no crusts. She would let you know lunch was over, and business complete, when she launched that smile. That was what she did instead of saying good-bye.

WORKING FOR: SHIRLEY CHISHOLM, 1964

Gravitas Speaks Louder Than a High-Decibel Tirade