It is said that if it can be done in one place, it can be done anywhere. Elie Tahari, a famous New Yorker who arrived in New York City in 1971 with less $100 in his pocket, slept on a Central Park bench and was credited with this knowledge. The Israeli designer was born in Jerusalem and spent his childhood in a refugee camp without electricity or running water. “I remember the other kids used to make jokes out of me because my clothes were dirty and wrinkled,” he says.
They would have known who they were dealing directly with. A new documentary The United States Of Elie TahariNow streaming on Vimeo, Tahari relates his journey from fleeing Iran to build a billion-dollar fashion empire. By all accounts, he is the living, breathing definition of the American dream—and he’s quick to profess his love for the city that allowed him to flourish. “I love everything about New York,” says Tahari, who currently resides in Midtown West. “The mentality, the fact that there are no differences, whether you’re Black or white, Jewish, Christian, Muslim… we’re all living in peace and harmony.”
According to the legend, Tahari invented the tube top in 1973 while working as an electrician in a Garment District clothing store. This was a new design that was inspired by a bathing suit he found in a market on Orchard Street. The following year, he launched his namesake brand in the heyday of the disco era, with universally flattering pieces that signaled confidence, attitude, and style from the wearer, across generations—and the rest is history.
Here are more details from Tahari about his childhood, hazy memories at Studio 54, and his triumphant return to the tube top.
How did you determine that now was the right moment to make a documentary about your life?
Truth is, I go with the flow. When the opportunity arose, I said “yes”—I didn’t say “no.” When [director and producer] David Serero heard my story, he got very close to me and said, “I make movies.” He had no backing or financing or anything; he did the whole thing himself. He directed, he filmed and he composed the music. He’s multitalented, and I’m very proud of it.
If you ever encountered those kids from the refugee camp who made fun of your “dirty and wrinkled” clothes, what would you say to them?
I would say, “The more wrinkled clothes you have, the more opportunities you have, and it’s gonna get better and better from there.” The fact that you have wrinkled clothes only builds you bigger muscles. You know that Israel is hard. People are strong. Kids are much more advanced—at 18 they’re already in the military. It’s proof that the more pressure on you, the stronger you get.
Surprised to discover that you were 42 years old when you had a bar mitzvah. Why so late?
I went to different boarding schools as a child. I was 12 years old, and I was a bad boy. At one school, I broke into the laundry area and picked out clothes to give my friends. They asked me to leave so I went to another boarding college. They had already been to bar mitzvahs. [there]They forgot about mine and I never had one. I woke up one morning to pray. [at the synagogue], and the rabbi asked me if I had a bar mitzvah, and I said “no.” He said to me, “This Saturday, you are being bar mitzvahed.” And that’s what happened. No party.
No party? Even for Studio 54 regulars.
Studio 54’s business side can I only speak for. [laughs]. The first couple of months it was open, we had a fashion show there and launched—at the time it was called “Tahari.” I remember Iman was in one of our fashion shows. Linda [Evangelista] too. Cindy Crawford. Cindy Crawford. [other] stories, I wouldn’t remember them [laughs].
Is it true you were a champion roller skater?
I used to go to every Hot club when I was in my twenties, and I went to one club in Brooklyn—I forgot the name—and there was roller skating there, and the music was hot. I started dancing and this man came over. He loved me and was dancing along with me, but he was also on skates. Then, he helped me to get on my roller skates. I was free to go around the rink and began roller skating. I ended up giving up after I tore a ligament. I’m doing a lot of yoga now.
What are your thoughts about the reemergence and popularity of the tube top?
When I first discovered the tube top in the ‘70s, women used to let it all hang out. Bras were fashionable. The elastic held it all in, just like a bra.
I’d argue that a lot of women gave up bras during lockdown.
I think it’s better to wear a bra! [Laughs.]It is possible to wear a strapless one. I look at the tube top as fast fashion; I don’t look at it as fashion. It’s something that women wear as a throwout piece.
How would you describe a New York woman?
Many of them dress like they go to the gym. But the most beautiful women are in New York—that’s known around the world. All ethnicities.
Looking back, what would be your biggest challenge in your career?
It was 30 years ago that we had to close our company. We lost everything ten years after we started the company. We created Tahari Ltd., a new corporation, and then went back to work. This just grew and got bigger and better.
How has your Sephardic history shaped you today?
My father owned a fabric shop in Tehran. Someone set the store ablaze and he lost all his belongings. So we returned to Israel. My mother also had epilepsy, and she couldn’t take care of us—there was no medication at the time for it. She was 40 when she experienced joy. nahas, which means “satisfaction from your children.” In Persia, you should see blessings at the end of your life—it doesn’t matter where you start, how you start, or what you’ve been through. I try to instill humility, appreciation, and respect in my children. [to]Always be giving. It’s a good example from my past.
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and condensed.
Source: elle