Finally, Let There Be Legs!

By Martha Smilgis

Is there anyone out there who thinks miniskirts were buried in the 1960s, along with pillbox hats and macrame belts? No way. All by its sassy self, the mighty mini has suddenly jumped to the fore of today's fashion scene. Dressed up in a variety of guises -- bubbled, tubed, tiered and flounced -- the thoroughly modern mini is competing hard with the billowy, prodigious shin- length skirts of the past few years. "Suddenly everybody is talking and worrying about it," says Italian Couturier Valentino. "That means the mini is here to stay."

With the first touch of warm weather, the mini has sprouted throughout the Sunbelt. Sightings of audacious creatures with never-ending legs have occurred in Southern California, Texas and Florida, while in New York City and Chicago, spangled and poufed little nighttime numbers are hitting the dance floors. Unlike the brassy '60s mini, these sporty skirts are practicing a subtle restraint. In fact, many of those for daytime wear are just knee skimmers, and even the more risque are hiked but a few inches above the knee. Designer Donna Karan insists that none of her short skirts should be sold without opaque stockings to lengthen the look: "I have addressed the leg. I haven't left women hanging, wondering, 'What do I do with the leg?' "

There will be few microminis, those brazen bumper stickers that show nothing but the leg and require a companion-bodyguard to be worn safely. "The new minis are not thigh-high, the kind where if you drop a quarter on the ground, you have to leave it there," says Lynn Schnurnberger, author of the upcoming Let There Be Clothes: 40,000 Years of Fashion Unveiled. "This batch didn't come from a revolutionary, free-sex period. They are cool, pretty, definitely not overly suggestive."

If the modern mini is not as short, it also is not as structured. "In the '60s women had cookie-cutter dresses. They were all A-lines, and the women looked like paper dolls cut in a row," says Designer Carolyne Roehm, who ships her minis to the stores considerably longer than those worn by her models. However, she jokes about "putting a note in every garment saying, 'I suggest that you will feel infinitely younger if you shorten this four inches.' "

Why the hemline hike in 1987? For starters, the modern woman who spends ten hours a week in the gym sculpting her legs with weights and aerobics wants to display the hard-earned results. "Usually a woman's leg is the last part of the body to go," observes the practical Calvin Klein. "There's a big change in the air about sexy, young clothes for the modern women of any age." If minis represent a middle-aged woman's best hope for a sexy look, they also provide fresh new ammo for leggy female yuppies confronting the much publicized man shortage. For still others, they are a simple backlash against man-tailored suits and dress-for-success drabs. Valentino waxes philosophical. "We live today in a very difficult world," he observes. "Women have to make an effort to look more happy, more smiling. It is a social step, not a fashion trick."

If the summer promises lissome beauties basking in appreciative male glances, it will also deliver the "fashion victims," as Women's Wear Daily calls those socialites who swallow the season's fashion feed regardless of what flatters them. "Some women who buy miniskirts surprise me," says Sheila Shahraies, a saleswoman at Ultimode, a pricey leather shop in Los Angeles. "They look terrible, but they want to be in fashion." There may be no quick solution for the thick-thighed, but the weak-kneed are seeking help. This year, in response to the short skirts, cosmetic surgeons report an increased interest in knee jobs, or liposuction operations, averaging $1,500 and up to remove the saggy fat.

Still, many wary, independent women, conditioned to comfort dressing by the Reebok revolution, are apparently determined to defy the tyranny of dictatorial designers and the fashion press. They are not about to attack closets with scissors to slice off their precious collection of skirts. "There is something elegant about a hint of knee or a hint of ankle," says one Chicago socialite who has legs worth flaunting, "but there is absolutely nothing elegant about an expanse of thigh. Women are comfortable in their long skirts. Who wants to think about how they cross their legs or walk up steps?" Adds Sally White, director of public relations for Neiman-Marcus in Atlanta: "You go back and look at the movies made in the '60s. Nobody sat down."

How the mini will fare in the office, among yuppies not known for frivolity, is a legitimate question. "A woman in the record industry wearing a miniskirt is one thing, but a woman district attorney pleading her case in the courtroom is another," says Sylvia Percelay, a designer at Bullock's in California. A bit defensively, designers insist that strong-shouldered jackets will instill the image of serious intelligence, despite the drafty little skirts. Few women buy that. "Power shoulders, power lunches maybe, but not power flesh," says Linda Aronson, 28, a marketing executive on Wall Street who will save her skimpy skirts for weekends. Perennial Model Cheryl Tiegs, 39, has hiked her skirts six inches above the knee, but totes a precautionary cover-up. That is a lesson learned from the '60s, when she was invited to dinner at a posh restaurant: "The maitre d' wouldn't let me sit at the table because of my mini. I ended up eating with my coat on."

As for the mini's role on television and the possible return of another '60s fad, hot pants, Dynasty Designer Nolan Miller says with a smile, "I can only remember what Bette Davis said on a late-night talk show: 'In my day, hot pants were something women had, not wore.' " There is surely wisdom in age.

With reporting by Barbara Goldberg/New York and D. Blake Hallanan/Los Angeles