Simon says

Yesterday, March 24, I sat down with Barneys creative director Simon Doonan before the shop's big event: Doonan mingling with the ladies in the shoe department. As for the event, the crowds were slim (both in the size of people and in the number of attendees), but Doonan's upbeat, offbeat and perfectly charming attitude was unfazed. No less than 30 minutes after our chat, the man slid his way to the feet of two modelesque women trying on metallic heels and studded boots in front of the three-way mirror (do these Fendis make me look fat?) to request a snapshot from a nearby photographer.

A few weeks ago, you wrote a column for The New York Observer in which you proclaim the end of trends. On a personal note, I was happy to see that you think pickles are the new macaroon. In any case, could you elaborate?

SD: In terms of trends, the interesting thing about fashion now is that there are no trends. Once in a while, something new happens. Like gladiator sandals are supposed to be a big trend this season. I think we’re on our seventh season of gladiator sandals because gladiator sandals are great. But now the idea of skinny jeans, there was a moment where they were a new thing. Now they’re just pervasive. I think you have to develop a different way of looking at the fashion landscape. It’s this sort of gurgling, massive, incomprehensible encyclopedia of styles and trends, which sounds like a nightmare, but the reality is that it’s a great time for the consumer. No one can keep track of it all. It’s a fantastic time to develop and own your own look. It’s a great time for self expression.… No one can keep track of whether you’re in or out.… But being told, “it’s all about you, develop your own style” is not always something women want to hear.

Let's get away from trends. Are there any looks you favor at the moment?

SD: I favor when people look like themselves, when they’re inhabiting their own look, whether they’re supergoth porno or uptight, tight-assed socialite. There were two women in the restaurant just now who were incredibly done up. They had torrents of wavy hair and fur on and a lot of makeup and jewelry. They looked fabulous because that was clearly who they were. The only real faux pas these days is trying on some identity that’s not really you.... Like, you’re a good example. You have a sort of bookish thing going on. But you’re still sort of glamorous. You have a nice blouse that’s got a good sheen to it. So you’re kind of dressed up, but you’re also keeping your bluestocking thing. I get it. You know clothing is nonverbal communication, as I told Katie on America’s Next Top Model.

Let's touch on your most recent column on what you call downlifting entertainment. You say 'the only truly effective way to reach a state of contentment is to confront the essential misery of life head on.' What's the ratio of seriousness to facetiousness in terms of tone here?

SD: I had traumatic childhood. I lived with my grandmother who was schizophrenic and had a lobotomy and my uncle who was also paranoid schizophrenic. My childhood was a bit post-war noir, so maybe that’s why I can watch [the TV show] Horders and I want to understand why they’re that way. When I see people in abject states of addiction and misery, I’m always interested whether they’re going to get out of it and how they got there. It doesn’t really bum me out. If anything it's sort of validating...oh great, somebody’s house is more squalid than the one I was born in.

Moving on to an uplifting topic, where do you like to go in Chicago?

SD: I've always had a good time here; I’ve come here for years. The Pancake House. I love that place. The fact there’s a beach here, the Art Institute [of Chicago] with La Grande Jatte. Chicago is incredible, maybe because I’m a foreigner, an immigrant. If you’re an immigrant, Chicago is magical.

Lastly, any advice for the kids?

SD: When I left school [in the ’70s in England], it was a recession. I thought I’d never get a job. I clawed my way into an entry-level job in a dusty old department store. I was in sales. Then I thought, the window display people were having more fun, and I knew somebody who did that and helped on weekends. So it was completely serendipitous.... [Kids these days] have such jacked-up high self-esteem. It’s hard to start from that place. I think for me everything was like, “Oh my God, I get to be a grown-up and work in the store, just like Auntie Mame when she worked at Macy's selling roller skates.” They don’t have that mentality. They are constantly assessing themselves as other people might see them rather than thinking, “Shit, I can't believe someone's paying me because I don’t know anything, because I’m young and stupid.” I don’t know which is easier. But it was easier for me having stratospherically low expectations. Kids, I think they think retail is déclassé. But I say listen kids, [Barneys fashion director] Julie Gilhart is in retail, I’m in retail. We have fabulous careers in retail. Retail. Don’t overlook it, girls.