Halston, the mononymous American fashion designer whose stripped-back, body-freeing take on luxury — caftans, halter dresses and acres of Ultrasuede — was a defining look of the ’70s, continues to fascinate.
Maybe that’s because his career, now more than three decades in the rearview mirror, still feels so contemporary, both in terms of his aesthetic — riffs on his shirtdress are everywhere and when haven’t caftans been a thing? — and his business strategy — including the once-novel concepts of brand extensions and diffusion lines. Or maybe it’s because the dramatic arc of his career from anonymity to high-flying celebrity designer to scandal-page fodder makes him seem like a victim of Me Decade cancel culture. Whatever the reason, Halston’s life seems to be perennially ripe for exploration in books (including Steven Gaines’ “Simply Halston”) and