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Karan, Donna.
My journey / Donna Karan; With Kathleen Boyes.First Edition.
1. Karan, Donna. Fashion designersUnited StatesBiography.
3. Women fashion designersUnited StatesBiography.
I. Boyes, Kathleen. II. Streisand, Barbra, writer of foreword. III. Title.
FOREWORD
I want you to know how much I love my dear, dear friend Donna Karanand how much I admire and believe in what she is doing as a designer, philanthropist, and visionary.
But first, let me fill you in on the side of Donna you havent read about that I find so amazing and hard to believe. She is the most scattered, disorganized human being youll ever meet. Her attention is fleeting, and shes always changing her mind. She cant remember anythingincluding plans youve just made with her. Chaos is her middle name. So Im constantly astonished by all she accomplishes: the fabulous clothesDonna Karan, DKNY, Urban Zenthe art exhibits, the fundraisers, the Urban Zen Foundation. Im always saying to her, You did this? Really? When? Im now convinced that the dichotomy of her nature and all she creates is a sign of her genius. And I dont use that word lightly.
Like everyone else, I met Donna through fashion. It was the late 1970s, and I had just bought a fur, raisin color, and wanted something to wear with it. A friend sent me to Donna, and within minutes Donna was emptying out her personal closet to help me. That is Donna. You like the chic, sexy shirt shes wearing? Shell take it off and give it to you. Literally. And while Donnas styling it on you, giving it just that right twist and tuck, shell be offering you a nosh, a green juice, asking how youre feeling, solving your problems and your kids problems, giving you Reiki, applying essential oils, and generally planning your life.
Donna doesnt just dress people; she addresses them, mind, body, and spirit. She is a creative visionary. Passionate. Forceful. Nurturing. Extremely hands-on. And generous to a fault. You cant help falling in love with her. As a friend, Donna is thoughtful, funny, and motheringshe cant help herself. That day in her studio, I spotted a chenille sweater in one of my favorite colors, burgundy, in a pile on the floor. They were throwing them away because it turned out the fabric was highly flammable. I didnt care. I even offered to sign a legal waiver in case the sweater should ever catch on fire. But Donna said, Absolutely notgive it back. She wouldnt take the chance. (By the way, I still have that sweater.)
Donna and I bonded immediately. We were two nice Jewish girls from New York, vacationing, dieting, and laughingsometimes fighting, but always laughing. Throughout our journey, theres always been fashionamazing fashion. To be a friend of Donnas is to dress very, very well.
I was single when I first met Donna and her husband, Stephan, a man I just adored. I became, as she would call me, wife number twotold you she was generous! Stephan was an artist who connected the dots in his work. He put dots on a page and randomly connected them, allowing a figure to emerge, which he then turned into a painting or a sculpture. Donna continues Stephans work of connecting the dots with everything she does. Especially with her philanthropy.
One of the things Donna and I have most in common is our passion for positive change. How to use our voices and creativity to get something done. How to use our platforms and public profiles to bring attention to urgent matters.
When an earthquake struck Haiti in 2010, Donna became part of the relief effort. In the midst of disaster, she saw potential and made a commitment to help the many talented artisans in that country develop and market their work. Haiti is where all the Urban Zen initiatives come together: A culture that needs to be preserved. A people in dire need of wellness. And a future that depends on education and the ability to sustain culture through commerce. Only Donna would try to take on an entire country! But God love hershe never ceases to amaze me.
Barbra Streisand
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
I had been up all night, tossing and turning, nervous and depressed. In the predawn light, I could just make out Stephans two paintings at the foot of my bedone a big sunny yellow plus sign, the other a thick black minus signinviting me to choose my outlook. Easier said than done.
Today was the spring DKNY show, and for the first time since Id started my company, my husband, Stephan, wouldnt be there. For as long as I could remember, he had always been first row center at my shows, cheering me on. He usually sat next to my daughter, Gabby, my sister, Gail, or maybe our business partners since the mid-1980s, Frank Mori and Tomio Taki. When I walked down the runway for my final bow, his beaming face grounded me. He used to say, There cant be two of us out there, so I was it. I may have been the face of our brand, but hethe free-spirited artist and ponytailed love of my lifewas my rock.
This would have been our eighteenth anniversary (actually our thirtieth, if you start counting when we met and fell in love, but thats another story). I had been doing so well since Stephan died from lung cancer three months earlier. At least I thought I was. But when youve lost someone, all it takes is some small, stupid thought to break you apart. For me, it was that empty seat. Id come up with a way to feel Stephans presence at the Donna Karan Collection show two days from now: I would place his life-size red wire sculpture of a man sitting in a chair, a piece he made in the mid-1990s, in the center of the entrance. My spring collection was inspired by Stephans art, and I wanted him there to see it. But all I felt now was his absence. How did people get through their first anniversary alone, much less on a stage with the whole world watching?