End of the Runway

By GINIA BELLAFANTE

As anyone who has flipped through Vogue or Harper's Bazaar in recent years can attest, it's quite a challenge to find models who don't look dour and perplexed, as though they've just gone through painful psychotherapy or mistaken whole milk for skim. The fashion business, for all its outward absurdity, isn't cheeky and good-humored at its core, and that is perhaps why Isaac Mizrahi made such an impression.

In an era when most big designers aren't necessarily known for wit or verbal agility, Mizrahi emerged in TV interviews, and especially in the acclaimed 1995 documentary about him, Unzipped, as a kind of Seventh Avenue Oscar Wilde, quipping endlessly about fashion ("It's almost impossible to have any style at all without the right dog"), pop culture and, always eagerly, himself. In the past few years, Mizrahi had cultivated the kind of celebrity that made him known to people who have never heard of shantung or bias cuts.

But as it turns out, a wry spirit and big personality are not enough to move $1,400 mink-trimmed skirts off store racks. Last week Mizrahi startled many in fashion's orbit when he announced that he was shutting down his business after a 10-year career during which media attention rarely eluded him but strong sales often did. The final blow came from Chanel Inc., which had bankrolled Mizrahi since 1992 but decided to dissolve its partnership with the designer after three years of financial losses.

Since his winning debut collection in 1988, Mizrahi had been considered the heir to the American sportswear throne shared by Calvin Klein, Donna Karan and Ralph Lauren. But unlike the holy trinity, Mizrahi, who trafficked in whimsical, feminine, but rarely outlandish garments, never managed to create a signature look. "There were brilliant first collections," notes Richard Martin, head of the Costume Institute at New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art, "but they became more and more erratic. Calvin, Donna and Ralph all developed something very distinctive."

Nor did Mizrahi develop fragrances, undergarments or other successful accessories, from which designers usually reap the bulk of their profits. Most devastating was the failure of his lower-priced bridge line nine months ago, which, though youthful and vibrant, never caught on. As fashion industry analyst Mark Mankoff, a partner at Ernst & Young, puts it, "Mizrahi just didn't reach enough people. He was not broadly accepted as a brand and an image and a life-style."

That may be why he received lukewarm support from big department stores. "Retailers are part of the blame," explains Fern Mallis, head of the Council of Fashion Designers of America. "They come and love Isaac, but then don't give him the support and energy in the stores that he needs to make it work."

Perhaps Mizrahi ultimately failed at marketing his aesthetic because he was too focused on marketing himself. The designer, who appears in the upcoming Woody Allen film Celebrity, has wanted to pursue a film career ever since his charming turn in Unzipped. Women's Wear Daily editorial director Patrick McCarthy notes, "He's been a little bit less interested [in fashion] than when he first started out. He has said to friends lately, 'Maybe this isn't for me anymore.'" Mizrahi is working on a screenplay based on a comic book he wrote, The Adventures of Sandee the Supermodel. And he wants to act. But that, of course, is something he's been doing all along.

--With reporting by David E. Thigpen/New York

With reporting by David E. Thigpen/New York