Liberace was an incredible human being.
I was introduced to him in 1969 by Ray Arnett. Ray was his producer and choreographer, and he staged all of Liberace’s shows. He briefed me that Lee [Liberace’s nickname] was looking for a designer as his tailor, Frank Acuna, with whom he had worked for a number of years, creating his first “Glitter” costumes, was about to retire.
The costumes I made for him consisted of sequined and beaded jackets and suits. They were complemented with fur coats designed and executed by Anna Nateece. A signature candelabra, sparkling luxury cars, and original pianos were added to his performances. These were enough to make him more than a wonderful pianist; they earned him the title of “Mr. Showmanship,” an image that was developed by Ray Arnett.
At my introduction to Liberace, in his Palm Springs home, he asked if I would create a chauffeur’s costume for him to use on the stage in one of his limousines. I asked him how much he wanted to spend and he replied, “I hope you won’t take advantage of me.”
That first chauffeur’s costume was blue. It was made of three-inch-by-six-inch patches of different shades of blue, each embroidered with different bugle beads, rhinestones, jewels, and sequins, as were the boots. The costume was further embellished with mink cuffs, collar, and boot tops.
He loved it.
Thus began a sixteen-year relationship, which ended at his death in the spring of 1987. Over the years, the costumes became more lavish, more detailed—and certainly not limited to sequins. Capes became extremely elaborate and furs became more grand. He was always satisfied, his motto being, “More is better, no matter what it cost.”
But that was Liberace. He carne from humble beginnings in Wisconsin, acquired a talent for the piano, and exploited it. To outperform other pianists, he added the first gaudy costumes. Fortunately, I was able to channel that taste into a more refined but always spectacular look.
I have always cherished the experience of working with him. He was unique. He was not a sophisticated man, yet he was comfortable with his peers and even with royalty, when he was presented to Queen Elizabeth. And he never forgot where he carne from. He was just as happy eating a Greek dolma when he visited my mother in our family home in Detroit as he was when presented with foie gras at more formal occasions.
He was one in a million.
—Michael Travis