Her clothes weren’t so much outfits as living tableaux. She left the house each day dressed as a picture of joy
Where to begin. The lessons in how to dress, or the lessons in how to live? Iris Apfel’s 102 years were a masterclass in both.
Really, of course, there’s no debate. We start with the clothes, because the clothes are entirely unignorable. Not so much outfits, as living tableaux. A coat of gold-tipped duck feathers topped with a lei of turquoise pebbles at the neck. Embroidered Indian silk tunics with fringed suede trousers. Fuchsia satin boots and a banana-yellow tulle cape. Bangles stacked to the elbow, a slash of lipstick bright as apricot jam, those delicate, bird-like knuckles dusted with a clatter of sweetie-toned cocktail rings.
