During the past two decades, however, as the number of people enjoying such lavish lives of leisure has declined, couture has struggled to survive. In the 1950s, according to the Federation Française de la Couture, there were 20,000 clients; in the 1980s, 2,000, and in the past 10 years, the number has dwindled to a few hundred worldwide-mostly wealthy socialites and businesswomen-who still regularly visit top designers for made-to-measure clothes. Several houses—including Yves Saint Laurent, Emanuel Ungaro and Versace—have shut their ateliers. The twice-annual couture weeks in Paris have shrunk to a couple of days each, and the shows have changed from demure presentations of new offerings to spectacular million-dollar productions attended by journalists, retailers and celebrities. “The true haute couture clients don’t come to the shows now,” says Catherine Riviere, head of haute couture at Christian Dior. “The shows are about celebrities and image, and that doesn’t interest couture clients at all. They want to see the collection properly and privately and don’t want to be exposed to this media circus.”
So couture houses have adapted their strategy. “If the clients don’t come to couture, couture will go to them,” says Dior spokesman Bernard Danillon. Like queens holding court, many couture clients now receive their dressmakers at home. The trend began quietly a few years ago, but has picked up dramatically in the past year. Of the dozen major fashion houses that still produce haute couture today, several—including Dior and Chanel—provide home service. “People are getting richer and richer and want specialized service,” Riviere says. “Home couture is an optimum service. It’s a true evolution in the business.”
The couture business has changed because the clientele has changed. Today’s couture clients are women working in positions of power and influence. “The days of ladies who lunch are over,” says Riviere. Though they prefer to keep a low profile, they are “richer than air,” says Chanel designer Karl Lagerfeld. In Europe and the United States, they primarily buy suits and day dresses—at about $30,000 a pop—and a bit of cocktail wear. Asian and Middle Eastern customers order loads of eveningwear, the more embroidered the better; couture gowns start at $100,000. And if they see a similar dress on a red-carpet celebrity, they cancel the order immediately. “They want one of a kind,” Riviere says.
A home-couture client first reviews the collection by watching a DVD or looking at photos online. Then she’ll talk to her vendeuse and make a few selections. (At Dior, for instance, there are two couture collections: John Galliano’s theatrical runway line and a more sober one that clients can actually wear.) The atelier uses a mannequin based on the client’s measurements to make a toile, or linen mock-up, of each outfit. Then the client will fly in her vendeuse and a seamstress—often on her private jet—to conduct fittings in the privacy of her bedroom. Suits usually require two fittings; dresses and gowns, three or four. Riviere now has three vendeuses on staff, she says, “because there is always one on the road.”
Home fittings have been a boon for the couture business. At Dior, for example, sales of this year’s spring-summer collection were double last year’s. Just as important, they have revitalized a craft that was on the verge of extinction. “It proves that haute couture can be modern, and not something that only references the past,” says Riviere. Yet it still makes each client feel like she’s the only one who matters.
