THE VYLETTE SPLIT Christina Klisanin (who, for the record, is a good friend of mine) has left Vylette, the Davenport Village boutique she founded along with Amy Weaver and Leigh Royce. It was one of those emotional splits that leaves both sides wounded. I have to say that there was a time when I thought Christina was pretty much a twit. Bouncy as a cheerleader and cute as a proverbial button, I felt her fashion credentials were shallow and her desire to immerse herself in fashion was probably a passing phase. She did have a degree in design from Baylor, but no one had really seen anything she had designed, except for a group she designed for a fashion show, and, to put it charitably, the clothes looked like they had been done in a big hurry. But Christina’s strengths lay elsewhere. She could sell an Eskimo snow, and had a sharp eye for trends. That quality served Vylette very well. The boutique was pretty much an instant success from the time the three partners opened it. Located in the same enclave that houses Susan Dell‘s boutique, driving out there was an occasion. Vylette had a lot of elusive charm, and I didn’t always understand the appeal of some of the groups they bought … but then again, I’m not a young West Lake Hills matron with money to burn. But I would be remiss if I didn’t say that Amy did give me my absolute favorite accessory of the past decade — the enormous and flashy Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses that have been a permanent part of my public image. Since I met Christina, and subsequently Amy (Leigh always seemed like more of a silent partner), I’ve regularly reported on and run several photos of them here because I really love the energy they bring to the Austin style scene. They were regulars at First Thursday and all style-related events, and through them, I wound up in places I’d probably not have gone otherwise. But what was undeniable was how popular the shop had become. Their regular buying trips to New York were always fraught with drama and comedy and a delight to hear about. Amy and Christina organized my birthday party last year — a limo, dinner at Starlite, with cocktails and star-studded merriment at the Lounge. It is one of the highlights of my life, and I was incredibly honored by their efforts and their friendship. It’s hard to imagine them not being everywhere together. Christina has many options in front of her, including taking on Manhattan. Vylette will continue without Christina; Amy is smart and talented and can go in any number of directions. She wishes Christina the very best in the next phase of her career, and Christina is fortunate to have had the experience that Vylette gave her. I hope for them to be as successful individually as they were as a team.
EAT YOUR HEART OUT The annual Dining for Life, a one-night event benefiting AIDS Services of Austin, happens Monday, Sept. 8. Participating restaurants contribute 15% of their dinner proceeds that night to ASA to help provide food, medicine, medical care, home health care, legal expenses, dentistry, and other day-to-day needs of people living with HIV/AIDS. Dozens of Austin’s finest restaurants are involved, and a complete listing can be found at www.asaustin.org — so make a point of patronizing your favorite restaurant and helping this very worthy charity.
HANDY ANDY The Austin Museum of Art opening party for the Warhol exhibit? I didn’t go. I forgot. Not that I intended to miss it — it just slipped my mind. I’m sure it was fabulous, but you don’t want me to be the Jayston Blair of the style set and report to you about something I didn’t see, do you? But I will go see the exhibit … and undoubtedly wax rhapsodic about seeing the Liz and Jackie and Marilyn … and I’ll share it in breathless detail, I’m sure. I’ve been an unabashed fan of the Warhol set ever since I was a child and watched my mother shellac some Campbell’s Soup cans, big and small, to use as home accessories and gifts. I thought that was très chic. My father’s friends all talked about Trash and Heat. I saw Andy with Edie Sedgwick in my sister’s fashion magazines, and was mesmerized. Then, of course, there was my sister’s episodic affair with John Cale of the Velvet Underground. When I first moved to New York, I went on a Warhol tour, visiting all the important addresses in the Warhol universe: the various locations of the Factory, the townhouses, the discos … I absorbed everything I could, watched the movies, read the books, and saw the art. The first time I used Photoshop, I created multiple Warholish portraits of myself, consciously mimicking Liza Minnelli with her multiple Warhol portraits on her walls. I have a huge Jackie print hanging over my bed, keeping watch over me all through the night. So did I say I was sorry I missed the party? I meant to say I was a moron.
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This article appears in September 5 • 2003.