(jazz music playing)
My mother used to be a dressmaker,
like most everybody in Detroit,
was a dressmaker one way or another,
but my mother was from down South,
and she could make anything.
She would take a piece of newspaper
and make it into a pattern,
and then make a garment out of it.
My mother liked hats,
and I said, "I'm going to make hats for her,"
because I was only, like, 15 years old.
And when I came back again to New York
and went to school,
and I was able to make hats when I went there,
so that's why they put me in the millinery department.
(jazz music playing)
Three floors of a high school, that was F.I.T. then.
I stayed in school for maybe six months,
then I quit, because they said to me,
"There's no job for a black designer."
So I left.
I went to the Village.
Then the next week,
Sybil Burton, Mary Ure, and Josephine Premice
all came in and bought about six or eight, eight things.
And I made them quickly,
and that's how I started in the Village.
And then I was making clothes for everybody on Broadway.
And then I got a job.
Then Seventh Avenue was college town, of Boston.
I was the lead designer,
plus, two other lines for that company.
And they made classy clothes.
But they had to have a touch.
(jazz music playing)
But that was, that was the story, I mean,
because I was the first one in that market.
Because when I'd go, go to look for lines of fabric,
I'd go, go to the fabric company,
and they'd say, "Well, where's the designer?"
They walked right by me.
I'd say, "It's me."
Things like that.
So it wasn't difficult for me,
because that's the way it was.
But it was always like that.
I mean, it was just ridiculous.
(jazz music playing)
I could get away with doing what I wanted to do,
even when I worked in the market.
I was able to talk to my boss.
I mean, we'd have meetings,
and he'd say, "I hate all of it,"
and, "Do it all over again."
But mostly, I was able to get my way.
My boss used to say,
"Well, make me something new."
So I had to... had a sweater made,
would have three sleeves in it.
I said, "Is this what you want?"
Then he'd say, "Okay, touché."
(jazz music playing)
Well, this is for the Oscars.
Then there was a pair of pants.
You name it, there was a part to it,
because that's the way things work around...
with me.
If it works, it works well.
So that, I mean that's been worn a long time.
But it's just a good shape, and I use that shape,
it's everywhere.
But this doesn't look like that.
It's almost the same coat.
This is a raincoat.
And the back is twice as much shirring in the back.
So it's like this in the back.
Maxine used to wear scarves that wrapped...
that's the hat.
I lived in Miami a lot,
and I had one store that...
they could sell a thousand of these things.
So I used to get all these African fabrics
and turn them into classic things.
This is just a little kimono-sleeved shirt
and a skirt.
And these clothes were all at a certain price range.
And you could always wear them,
and you could get new ones added to the old ones.
And that's the way the market looked then.
Now, you can't wear any of the stuff that you buy,
it costs two arms and three legs, plus some more.
It just doesn't work.
(jazz music playing)
Charlie James was one for me.
McCardell, I liked her a lot.
Adrian, I liked his stuff,
both the costumes
and the plain, wonderful dresses and suits he used to make,
his suits were incredible.
And they could last forever.
I mean, you could put them on today,
and just lengthen them, shorten them,
and they'd look so good.
That's the kind of clothes that I wanted to make,
and that's what I did.
(jazz music playing)
But most of them were all great.
95% were good.
There's one, I mean when they were bad, they were really bad.
(jazz music playing)
I mean, how many wedding dresses did I make?
Oh, my God.
I mean, terrible.
One after the other, I was like this.
That's how I have an aneurysm,
because of wedding dresses.
(jazz music playing)
I was the only one around.
Everyone came to my studio.
I used to go at night and help people,
all the designers around the city
who wanted to be designers.
And that's... I wanted to do something all the time.
Not just to go and sit in a design room
and sketch all day long.
(jazz music playing)
There's a dress that we don't have.
It's made of mud cloth.
And the dress is just a ball gown,
but it's dark pleats,
and then it's open real wide like this.
And underneath is a big petticoat of white cotton,
but it's all African fabric, but we can't find it.
And it's... we made about 20 of them,
and they're all gone.
If you look around, people say,
"Arthur McGee, is he still around?"
Because I've been around so long.
(jazz music playing)