Hollywood has lost its “Sultan of Sequins.” But one of his most famous clients is still there, standing tall at 29 centimeters.
Bob Mackie has never been interested in understated dresses. And why should he be?
Her world was that of Cher, Diana Ross, Tina Turner, Carol Burnett, Elton John, Judy Garland, Marilyn Monroe: performers for whom getting dressed wasn’t just about putting on clothes. It was about making a memorable entrance. Mackie had perfectly understood the game long before celebrity styling became an industry.
Give a woman feathers, and she can fly. Give her sequins, and she’ll stop traffic. Add rhinestones, fringe, a little bare skin, and a silhouette that moves under the lights, and suddenly you’re no longer looking at an outfit. You’re looking at a star. That was Mackie’s unique magic.
She knew how to walk the fine and dangerous line between glamour and excess, somehow always managing to stay on the right side of it. What could have been tacky became theatrical. What could have seemed ridiculous became iconic.
E Then came Barbie.
And this is where the story gets particularly interesting. While the European fashion establishment was busy building major fashion houses, granting perfume licenses, and conquering department stores, Bob Mackie found another way to get his name into the wardrobes of millions of people.
He dressed Barbie. Not the sensible Barbie. Not the girl-next-door Barbie. Mackie’s Barbie.
Feathers. Sequins. Crystals. Voluminous hair. An even bigger personality.
The plastic diva became a miniature version of that Hollywood dream machine Mackie had been building for decades. His collaboration with Mattel led to the creation of nearly two dozen dolls in the Bob Mackie Collection. And suddenly, every little girl could own a Mackie.
A smart move. A very smart move.
Because Barbie wasn’t just another famous client. She was a global distribution system. No runways. No fashion editors. No front-row invitations. Just a little plastic woman with a massive wardrobe and millions of bedrooms around the world.
The irony is wonderful: Bob Mackie spent his career making real women look larger than life, only to turn a tiny woman into someone who seemed to own Las Vegas.
His career spanned more than half a century. His clients included some of the biggest names the entertainment world has ever known, and his work earned him nine Emmys, a Tony Award, and three Oscar nominations.
But perhaps the most significant measure of his influence is what happened after the original stars left the scene.
In fact, pieces from Mackie’s archive continue to appear on contemporary artists. Miley Cyrus purchased one of his original costumes; Sabrina Carpenter has embraced his work; and his creations continue to be reinterpreted and referenced by a new generation of performers who have realized that showmanship is nothing to be apologetic about.
Bob Mackie has died at the age of 87. The entertainment world has lost one of its greatest image-makers.
But what about Barbie? She still has her wardrobe.
And I suspect she has no intention of toning it down anytime soon.
