Diane von Furstenberg’s friends like to tease that, had she been on the cinematic Titanic, she would have found a way to hoist up Jack from the freezing water and onto that wooden door. Three days later, Jack in tow, she would have sashayed into a soignée New York dinner party wearing that 56-carat blue diamond necklace.
The woman has a strong will.
I realized that the first time I met her in 1975, when I was a cub reporter at The Washington Star. At 28, Ms. von Furstenberg was already a sensation with the phenomenally successful $86 wrap dress; she had conjured it after seeing Julie Nixon Eisenhower on TV defending her father during Watergate, wearing a DVF wrap top and skirt.
The tycooness, on a visit to D.C. to promote her brand, was in a rush to get to the airport and asked if I could come down to her car for the interview.
I felt like I was climbing into a cage with a panther. I got into the back of a black limo and there she was in a dark mink coat, her long dark hair with a henna sheen spilling over her shoulders, her legs sheathed in black fishnets. She was nibbling from a box of dark chocolates on her lap. In her sultry Belgian accent, she offered me one. Her voice, as her late friend, Vogue’s André Leon Talley, said, “wraps itself around you like a cozy, warm cashmere muffler.”
That half-hour in her limo was a revelation. In an era when we were instructed by male “experts” to dress and act like men to get ahead, Ms. von Furstenberg insisted on living a man’s life in a woman’s body. Her message was bracing: Meet men as equals but don’t imitate them. Ambition and stilettos can coexist.
I immediately tossed out all my hideous dress-for-success floppy ties.
I caught up with Ms. von Furstenberg recently to talk about a new Hulu documentary, “Diane von Furstenberg: Woman in Charge,” on her vertiginous, glamorous life, a life darkened by the Holocaust, AIDS, her bout with tongue cancer and her periodic business woes.
