The Boss of 9-to-5

Designer Liz Claiborne Made Career Dressing That Suited Women

Liz Claiborne built her fashion business by catering to the needs of working women. Over the years, the brand deserted them, as did much of the fashion industry. When Claiborne died Tuesday, at 78, her company was trying to woo them back.

Claiborne established her company in 1976 along with Leonard Boxer, Jerome Chazen and her husband, Art Ortenberg. It was dedicated to providing professional clothes for women, particularly younger ones, who were entering the workforce in droves. At a time when conventional wisdom -- and John T. Molloy of "Dress for Success" -- had businesswomen dressing like slightly curvier men in gray flannel suits and floppy ties, Claiborne created clothes that were appropriate, stylish, but also feminine. They were fashionable but not trendy. And most importantly, they were priced so that both the executive and her secretary could afford them.

Claiborne's emphasis on a woman's work wardrobe was not just savvy, it was also a reflection of the designer herself. She was an entrepreneur and her company remains one of the few major firms on Seventh Avenue founded by a woman. She was also one of the few female designers with name recognition on par with heavyweights such as Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger.

From the beginning, Liz Claiborne clothes were meant to be practical and commercial -- precisely what so much designer clothing today is not. She believed in creating ensembles that a woman could mix and match, enabling her to squeeze a week's wardrobe from only a handful of separates. Her insistence on selling women a head-to-toe look -- jacket, blouse, skirt and maybe even a bonus pair of pants -- helped change the way clothes were sold in department stores. Through the force of her talent, business acumen and tenacity, she pushed stores to stop segregating pants in one area and blouses in another. Claiborne wanted customers to see her entire collection, and the logic of her personal aesthetic, in one location. Today, grouping clothes by brand is routine.

During the label's heyday in the 1970s and early '80s, it had a loyal following of women who trusted "Liz," as they often referred to the collection, to wardrobe them for the office in a way that did not sacrifice their individuality, their femininity or their upward mobility. Even now, customers offer misty-eyed recollections of a favorite pair of Liz Claiborne trousers or a certain skirt that they wore thin.

When Claiborne retired in 1989, the brand began to suffer. Her singular vision had defined the label, but once she was gone, the clothes were designed by a team. Customers complained that the clothes, once restrained but modern, were now dowdy and matronly. Their disappointment with the brand eventually turned to indifference.

Department stores, where so much of the Liz Claiborne business was based, also went into decline and the brand's business suffered as a result.

To right the company financially, it began to expand dramatically beginning in the mid-1990s. Liz Claiborne Inc. is now a $5 billion conglomerate that includes brands as diverse as Enyce, Juicy Couture, Lucky Brand Dungarees, Kate Spade and, its most recent addition, the designer label Narciso Rodriguez. Many of its acquisitions have prospered, most notably Juicy Couture. But the label that started it all -- Liz Claiborne -- continued to decline and drag down profits. Earlier this month, the corporation announced that it was reorganizing in an attempt to improve its finances.

The company's recent aesthetic failings have been of its own making, but it has also suffered because of shifts within the business culture and the fashion industry. When the brand was launched, the idea of dressing women for work was a novel one and an interesting design challenge. Offices had dress codes; fashion had rules. There was a clear distinction between work clothes and leisure ones.

But in time, the idea of "career dressing" became almost anachronistic. Business casual attire came to the fore. The pulled-together, coordinated look that was a hallmark of the Claiborne tradition was marginalized by the fashion industry because fewer women needed it. Who needs a blazer and a coordinating skirt when it's just fine to wear a sundress and ballet shoes to the office?

Designers shunned the suit. Even Giorgio Armani, a name synonymous with high-end women's business clothes, was loath to put too many tailored blazers on his runways.

Today, the fashion industry is most interested in youth culture, premium denim and handbags. Where once Liz Claiborne was celebrated for helping young women go into the workforce looking like adults, now adults are interested in looking like adolescents.

The fashion industry emphasizes clothes a woman might wear on holiday, to cocktails or shopping. It isn't particularly interested in what a woman might wear to work.

In 2005, Liz Claiborne named Richard Ostell its new creative director. He was charged with modernizing the aesthetic, improving the quality of the merchandise and reconnecting with working women, who may not need a suit for the office, but would at least like to look polished. In effect, the company is trying to get back to its original philosophy.

Claiborne left her mark on the fashion industry because of her respect, admiration and empathy for working women. She changed the nature of department stores, cracked the Fortune 500 and successfully took her company public in 1981. And she never shied away from the notion that celebrating personal style is good for business.