Changing Room

"The collection is for a guy who doesn't want to wear traditional pleated khakis and oversized polo shirts, but he's not ready to dive into skinny, low-rise khakis," Bartlett says. "I think of my brother-in-law in Cincinnati." The constant question: What would Jerry Solimine wear?

When Bartlett arrived at Claiborne in January, he did not study the house's archives, as so many designers coming into an established brand tend to do. The Liz Claiborne women's collection has a rich history, famous for its mix-and-match sensibility and serving as the wardrobe for countless women entering the workforce in the 1970s and '80s. But the men's line, introduced in 1985 and now sold in more than 500 locations, was a blur.

If someone says Tommy Hilfiger, you think urban preppy. Calvin Klein connotes minimalist. You might also think sexy. Theory? In-the-know shoppers might think Prada-lite. Tommy Bahama? Loud prints. Claiborne menswear?

"There was no immediate history there," Bartlett says flatly. "They were known in the market for fit and for a good price/value relationship and the ability to distribute on a very expansive level." In other words, the most that could be said about Claiborne is that it kept a man from having to go naked.

"I didn't feel a soul to the brand," McTague says. "I saw nice product."

While the company says the brand is profitable, the clothes haven't been selling well enough to keep Liz Claiborne in the black. In 2007, Liz Claiborne Inc., which includes more than a dozen brands, had net sales of $4.6 billion, but a net operating loss of $426 million, a number that would have been even higher if not for the success of labels such as Juicy Couture and Lucky Brand Jeans. (The company doesn't break out sales for individual brands.) The 2007 annual report described the year as "dismal."

In the last year, the corporation has been reorganized. More than 1,300 positions were cut, and the brands were divided into two categories. It is a division that effectively boils down to stars and stragglers. The stars, which include Juicy Couture, Lucky Brand Jeans, Mexx and Kate Spade, made money. The stragglers did not. They include both the Liz Claiborne women's line, which is now being designed by Isaac Mizrahi, and the menswear.

Bartlett's goal is to give the brand a point of view and a personality. McTague will try to pry it out of a destructive cycle in which retailers like Macy's make decisions about what to sell based on what sold last season and end up boring customers. But Claiborne seems as committed to the middle-of-the-road as ever. Bartlett is charged with reinventing the familiar.

There is no story line for the collection. It's all about the merchandise -- about the door busters, rack-poppers and pant-eaters, lingo for the eye-bulging bargains and fanciful offerings that are meant to excite customers. The "door buster" is "like the leather jacket for $99," Bartlett explains. "You put it on sale at 7 a.m. and people come and bust the door down."

The pant-eater is a particularly enticing jacket. A rack popper "draws you into the pod," Bartlett says. His rack popper will be an especially fetching argyle sweater. The prices for tailored clothes will hover around $300, but can go as high as $1,200 for an item such as a limited-edition coat.

Being at Claiborne means "understanding margins and marketing. It's a whole other way of approaching design," Bartlett says. "It means stepping outside the ego."

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