Charles Kleibacker (1921-2010)
I am saddened today to learn of designer Charles Kleibacker’s death. According to the Columbus Dispatch, Charles died yesterday, Sunday, January 3, 2010. Just slightly over a year ago he and I shared dinner in Chicago with Sandra Ericson, founder of the Center for Pattern Design, after judging the Association of Sewing and Design Professionals’ annual Threads challenge. Charles was honored by this same organization some years earlier for his lifetime contribution to the sewing and design communities. How can I adequately express the charm, style, and graciousness this man exuded? He was a delight to be around and generous with his knowledge. I envy every one of his students. Perhaps you’ve met him on the pages of Threads where he first appeared in issue #6 and has been with us ever since—always a willing contributor with proper solutions and helpful suggestions. He will long live in our hearts. Here is some of Charles’ life from the pages of Threads:
Kleibacker, who was literally brought up in women’s ready-to-wear at his family’s department store in Cullman, AL, began his career as a reporter for the Birmingham News. Next he wrote copy for Bernice Fitz-Gibbon at Gimbels, NY, where he extolled automobile tires and garden accessories. When a fashion copywriting job opened, Fitz-Gibbon chose him. “He was horrified. We talked him into it,” Fitz-Gibbon recalled. (As a designer, Kleibacker is “right up there next to Norman Norell, maybe alongside Norell,” wrote Fitz-Gibbon in her book. Macy’s Gimbes and Me.)
After many visits to the house of Dior in Paris (where singer Hildegarde, his promotion-writing charge, was a client), Kleibacker realized that women’s fashion had always been his first love. Returning to New York, he and two partners opened a women’s custom and limited-edition ready-to-wear business. He eventually sold designs through Hattie Carnegie, Bergdorf Goodman, Bonwit Teller, and Neiman-Marcus to celebrities such as the late Gertrude Lawrence and Lady Iris Mountbatten.
In 1953 he closed up and went to Paris to work as a designer for Antonio Castillo in the house of Lanvin. He admired Paris designer Alix Gres, who did “beautiful, lyrical, lilting, soft body clothes.” But of his own designs he said, “I feel what keeps me in business is what I have to offer as an entity. . .not something taken from here, there, and everywhere and not a garment watered down for production purposes.” Kleibacker also worked in Italy. He did two small collections on his own in Rome before returning to this country in 1957.
After three years of designing for Seventh Avenue’s Nettie Rosenstein, he opened his own business in 1960. His designs were usually on-the-bias, soft body shapes, in silk. The clothes were painstakingly made, individually cut, and supervised by Kleibacker in his studio in the Hotel Park Royal on New York’s West 73rd St. and sold for $950 to $2,500. Kleibacker believed in simplicity, fit, and comfort, His designs may have been dramatic, but they were never flamboyant in silhouette or color.
In 1983, Kleibacker began a collaboration with Ohio State University, which grew to include a position as Designer-in-Residence, as well as Director and Curator of the world-class Historic Costume and Textiles Collection at the College of Human Ecology.
This impressive designer and "Master of the Bias" will most certainly be missed. Share your stories of how this great designer has inspired you, as we celebrate the life and work of Charles Kleibacker.
For more information on the designer, read the following articles from the pages of Threads:
"Close Up with Charles Kleibacker: An interview with the “Master of the Bias” on fabric, design, and being original."
"Hands on with Kleibacker: Lessons for Working with a Bias"
Posted on Jan 4th, 2010 in garment construction, charles kleibacker


























Comments (30)
Posted: 2:40 pm on January 8th
Shirley L. Smith
Posted: 12:23 pm on January 8th
Posted: 10:47 am on January 8th
Posted: 9:30 pm on January 6th
At the time, I had a dressmaking shop with employees, and he and I shared stories about production problems.
One of his most colorful was how they cleaned garments in the shop: filled a sink with dry-cleaning fluid, immersed the garment, and then ran with it outside onto the street and flapped it dry. Talk about lack of regulations and safety!
He also told me about the ladies that came in for their final fitting, and would say, oh-so-charmingly, "Oh Charles, I think it should be a teensy bit longer, don't you? Maybe a quarter of an inch?" He would charmingly agree, and she would leave.
Then he would hang the dress up on the rack, and wait for her return appointment. (didn't do a thing to the hem). When she came, she would rave, and say, "Oh, that quarter inch just makes it divine, don't you agree?"
He was also very supportive, and wrote me a letter of commendation to frame on my shop wall. I would say he had a fabulous sense of humor, a wicked one at times, and was an utter gentleman.
His gifts of his talent and methods and skills were given over and over. Just look at these posts: classes and teaching in many, many venues over the years, always associated with places of learning. Not many successful designers do that. And what gifts--the attention to detail, always for a reason of the beauty of the product--I can't add to the already wonderful expressions of appreciation above.
He is a National Treasure, and it is our loss that he is gone.
Thank you, Charles, for so much.
Anna
Posted: 8:08 pm on January 6th
Tammy O'Connell
Posted: 7:36 pm on January 6th
Christine Kazmerzak
Posted: 5:51 pm on January 6th
Posted: 1:05 pm on January 6th
I first met Charles about 15 years ago at Ohio--Marlene Ingraham who heads the Original Sewing and Quilt Expos introduced us. She knew how delighted I'd be and our friendship continued since we had several fashion industry friends in common, most notably Steven Stipelman from FIT who illustrated my pattern envelopes for me. Steven and I would ask each other, "Have you heard from Charles? How's he doing?" Last time was during NY fashion week a couple years ago. I had just seen Steven and then as all karma happens, I ran into Charles backstage at Ralph Rucci's show just a few hours later. We had our picture taken together and then I later included it in a newsletter and sent copies to Charles. He sent me the nicest letter back about how much he enjoyed my newsletters and work. Really a thoughtful letter.
You didn't mention one of the things I remember about him the most in his biography--his work with Qiana in the seventies! At the Rucci show, when we had a brief time to chat, I was with a woman who had sung the Qiana jingle that they had used all those years before and when I put them together for her to sing it to him, he just howled with laughter--and Charles was so soft spoken, it was fun to get him chuckling like that.
He traveled the country on behalf of that business and had several articles he authored in Vogue magazine back in the day when the issues came out twice a month, were about double in dimension and always included a home sewing with Vogue patterns article in the back of every issue. Early on, shortly after I had first met him, we were at an expo together and I asked him to autograph one of those issues. We had such a wonderful laugh and giggle about it--he couldn't believe I had those old magazines let alone bring one to Ohio for him to sign. His delight was so apparent that he passed it along to me as I'm always delighted now when a woman wants me to sign something I've written.
My happiest for him was when he was able to sell his extensive couture collection through Doyle. He gave away so much time and energy to non-profit educational institutions and his love of brilliant fashion design was able to sustain him later. He had many, many friends in fashion that were very much like him--hard working, thoughtful, bright and not as famous as they deserved since they didn't seek the spotlight but rather shared it or directed it to others.
He was generous beyond belief with his thoughtfulness. He was an example to me time and again that success has nothing to do with being famous. It's the people you touch and help that's become so inspirational to me through the course of my business. In that way I hope to always honor him. He will be missed in our community.
Posted: 10:09 am on January 6th
Marilyn Johnson
Posted: 8:03 pm on January 5th
Posted: 5:59 pm on January 5th
We draped in muslin - I still have mine, signed, of course, by Charles. We learned to incorporate so many "little things" that even the muslins looked great on our bodies. His generosity in sharing so many techniques was, indeed, a treasure for all of us. His charm and warmth in a workshop situation made everyone relaxed and wanting to learn more and more.
At the end of our week, we took Charles out for dinner and he wore his black and white tweed jacket. The young waitress at the restaurant accidentally spilled a glass of red wine on him - we all nearly died of embarrassment - but Charles was so gracious that dinner continued on with him sporting a now red stained black and white tweed jacket.
I still continue to use his techniques and always think of him when doing so. Bias designs have become a favorite for me and I use it often, remembering the fluidity of Charles' designs. He will, indeed be missed - such a gentleman - living on in our memories.
Carol Zahn
Posted: 10:06 am on January 5th
Posted: 9:16 am on January 5th
Chris Wohlstetter
Posted: 12:13 am on January 5th
Camille Morgan
Posted: 11:25 pm on January 4th
Posted: 10:44 pm on January 4th
Dressed in natty black and white (tweed jacket, silk tie and pocket square) which I was told was his trademark, he impressed me with his appreciation of his young students slender figures just perfect for his garments which on me, although comfortable for sure would have revealed every lump and distortion of a Pillsbury dough boy figure--oh, well, I will never forget his name, his creations or his elan and am sorry that he like other talents will take his artistry with him to heaven. I can see the angels in his diaphanous bias garments already!
Posted: 10:32 pm on January 4th
Dressed in natty black and white (tweed jacket, silk tie and pocket square) which I was told was his trademark, he impressed me with his appreciation of his young students slender figures just perfect for his garments which on me, although comfortable for sure would have revealed every lump and distortion of a Pillsbury dough boy figure--oh, well, I will never forget his name, his creations or his elan and am sorry that he like other talents will take his artistry with him to heaven. I can see the angels in his diaphanous bias garments already!
Posted: 10:32 pm on January 4th
Detroit that I just had to take. He showed us how to create muslins and then stitched us into them to fit them perfectly. When it came time to remove mine he discovered that he had stitched it to my body. He was amazed I hadn't complained at all. He was so generous with his time & expertise - what an honor to have studied with him.
Posted: 10:13 pm on January 4th
Posted: 9:29 pm on January 4th
In the years following, I had opportunities to attend several of his seminars; his extensive handouts are a valued part of my resource collection. He generously allowed a group of us from the Greater Cincinnati Professional Sewing Association to tour the Costume and Textile collection at Ohio State when he was the curator. He was a generous guide, telling wonderful stories and pointing out intricate details on garments. He allowed us to not just see the garments, but to turn them inside out! The inspiration and knowledge we gained that day was immeasurable.
Charles always had words of encouragement and support and never from a position of superiority—always as a friend and colleague. He didn’t just talk to us about his experiences, techniques, and designs, he shared them. He was a true gentleman, artist, and technician, and he will be missed.
Karen Howland
Posted: 9:27 pm on January 4th
At the time I did not realize the value of my exposure to his techniques, but over the years I have often heard his advice to "stretch the guts out of the bias"(not necessarily a direct quote) as I have worked on things for my own design and dressmaking clients here in Los Angeles. I endeavor to bring the kind of quality to my work that he brought to his. The world will miss his generosity and talent.
Posted: 9:01 pm on January 4th
There was one fitting session where we argued whether I had put my design on backwards or not. I have a small bust. The debate went on for a few minutes until I proved my shoulder blades protruded slightly more than my breasts. He was mortified, but we laughed about it for years after.
A few days later, my younger sister was standing in front of him for a fit review - we had very similar bodies. While other students presented him with staid, safe designs, I had gone overboard with my senior project. The "rules" said the project garment had to be designed for "someone" other than the designer. Chuck and I cooked up a way to "bend" those rules. That's why my sister was the official fit model. Not content with one draped dress and one coat, I had to have two 2-piece dresses with interchangeable parts, and a cape with a capelet that removed and could be tossed over a coat. The big cape, of course, was reversible. He spent hours with me, perfecting the design and inspecting my handiwork. Then my sister and I modeled the results in the department's big fashion show.
In the middle of the fitting, Chuck accidentally stuck a pin deep into my sister's armpit. He looked up at her, held his breath and s-l-o-w-l-y pulled it out. "Owwwwwwww," she said loudly, glaring at him. Like a good fit model, she had not moved. Chuck and I fell on the floor laughing. "I thought I killed her," he said.
After graduation, I went to a school in NYC on a Fellowship and he was thrilled. I visited his salon at the Hotel on Central Park West and met his assistant, who doubled as his fit model.
Though he moved permanently to Ohio ages ago, we exchanged Christmas cards every year. My holiday newsletters was always lengthy - and his summation in his cheery reply was succinct, less than 50 words.
This year, I did not get a response from Chuck. Now I know why. He will be missed, but the memories of our fun times remain.
Posted: 8:48 pm on January 4th
There was one fitting session where we argued whether I had put my design on backwards or not. I have a small bust. The debate went on for a few minutes until I proved my shoulder blades protruded slightly more than my breasts. He was mortified, but we laughed about it for years after.
A few days later, my younger sister was standing in front of him for a fit review - we had very similar bodies. While other students presented him with staid, safe designs, I had gone overboard with my senior project. The "rules" said the project garment had to be designed for "someone" other than the designer. Chuck and I cooked up a way to "bend" those rules. That's why my sister was the official fit model. Not content with one draped dress and one coat, I had to have two 2-piece dresses with interchangeable parts, and a cape with a capelet that removed and could be tossed over a coat. The big cape, of course, was reversible. He spent hours with me, perfecting the design and inspecting my handiwork. Then my sister and I modeled the results in the department's big fashion show.
In the middle of the fitting, Chuck accidentally stuck a pin deep into my sister's armpit. He looked up at her, held his breath and s-l-o-w-l-y pulled it out. "Owwwwwwww," she said loudly, glaring at him. Like a good fit model, she had not moved. Chuck and I fell on the floor laughing. "I thought I killed her," he said.
After graduation, I went to a school in NYC on a Fellowship and he was thrilled. I visited his salon at the Hotel on Central Park West and met his assistant, who doubled as his fit model.
Though he moved permanently to Ohio ages ago, we exchanged Christmas cards every year. My holiday newsletters was always lengthy - and his summation in his cheery reply was succinct, less than 50 words.
This year, I did not get a response from Chuck. Now I know why. He will be missed, but the memories of our fun times remain.
Posted: 8:48 pm on January 4th
Barbara
Posted: 8:28 pm on January 4th
Posted: 8:02 pm on January 4th
Posted: 7:21 pm on January 4th
I meant to look him up again not long ago and now am sorry I hadn't.
The sewing world is a lesser place without him and his positive attitude. 'Good things' he would say to me on the phone at the end of our conversation.
Posted: 7:03 pm on January 4th
Posted: 6:34 pm on January 4th
Thank you for letting us know. Yes, he was a delight; so appreciative of everyone's work and so generous about sharing his knowledge. I met him for the first time when I was in his studio in NYC in the mid-1970's, learning how he worked on the bias -- he cut and sewed a black silk crepe dress with a center front seam and a very deep V-neck. His particular magic that day was how he prevented the neck from opening even when the model was seated. I was so amazed and have followed his career for all of mine. He was a treasure who enriched us all.
Sandy Ericson
Posted: 6:05 pm on January 4th
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