MOODBOARD: VALENTINA SCHLEE

The Russian-born (or is that Ukranian?) designer was a beacon of American couture.

When she finally closed the doors to her namesake salon after decades as one of New York’s most exclusive designers, Valentina Schlee received a letter from English-American couturier Charles James. In it, the genius – if often volatile and highly critical – James extolled her virtues as a fellow designer, thanking her for being a true colleague, one who championed the finest couture methodologies and highest standards in a sea of ready-to-wear. Despite this praise from one of the greatest designers in the fashion canon, Valentina’s legend has (shamefully) had difficulty latching on despite a rather remarkable monograph and small exhibition dedicated to her life and work 15 years ago.

So who was Valentina? Like most New Yorkers hailing from elsewhere, she was her own best invention. Though regarded as Russian for most of her life and by a majority of scholars since her death, geopolitical conflict has caused a reassessment of her origins. Recent research refers to Valentina as Ukranian as she was born in Kyiv in either 1899 or 1904 (Schlee liked to fudge the details). Little is known about her early life other than that she studied dance and was of poor means. She became involved with and married George Schlee not long before arriving in Manhattan in 1922 and transmuting herself from Valentina Nicholaevna Sanina to Valentina Schlee.

The newly minted, untrained designer immediately earned a reputation as elusive, impossible and probably better than you. But she had the taste and creative chops to back it up. It didn’t take long for her to achieve that rare feat: becoming a mononym, dropping her middle and maiden names to become, simply, Valentina. Her philosophy could be understood as a precursor to minimalism with a focus on streamlined, timeless garments that echoed her motto, “Fit the century. Forget the decade.” Like Chanel, Valentina was practically a mill for memorable one-liners (“Mink?! Mink is for football!” she once exclaimed as a client refused a sable coat for having recently been gifted a mink one.) And though devastatingly elegant, she possessed a theatrical side, like when she would place dry ice in a tall hat while attending the theater so a trail of fog followed her down the aisle.

There’s so much more to tell about Valentina, but for now, I’ll opt to show instead.

Valentina modeling her own design for Vogue, October 1945.

Abram Poole's painted portrait of Valentina, 1926.

Valentina photographed in 1935. Photo: Museum of the City of New York.

The magnetic designer in her salon.

A series depicting Valentina modeling in a presentation of her own designs.

Valentina and George Schlee.

Valentina wearing her own designs as photographed by George Hoyningen-Huene, 1940.

Valentina modeling her own designs for Vogue, November 1944.

Valentina wearing a grphic cape of her own design.

Valentina, 1940. Photo: George Hoyningen-Huene; Museum of the City of New York.

Valentina wearing a formal dress of her design that includes one of her signature silk aprons.

Valentina playing with fabric and embodying the lightness of her work.