This morning I read in the San Francisco Chronicle that the owners of the Fairmont Hotel, that famous watering hole atop Nob Hill, where Tony Bennett first sang “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” are hoping to turn nearly half their magnificent property into condos. You cannot imagine the outcry from the city’s Board of Supervisors. The owners of the hotel simply stated that they “see a need for housing in San Francisco”. We once had I. Magnin, one of the most beautiful department stores imaginable, where the best dressed women in California bought their clothes, and quite often in the presence of the designers themselves, who pinned their gowns for further alterations. Just recently my full service beauty salon which offered color, cut, manicures, pedicures, make up application, and a small but amazing café making the best salads and sandwiches this side of Union Square, changed to cut and color only. The rest of the space is devoted to their new school, which they envision to be the next Vidal Sassoon.

Personalized service seems to be falling off the face of the planet, though we always hear of niche businesses that supply personal service to the very wealthy. Haute couture is one of these businesses. If you buy a piece of haute couture, a coat from one of the major designers for say $60,000, you can expect to periodically bring it back to the house from where you bought it for renovation, alterations or repairs. And the house will offer you the beverage of your choice while you consider further purchases. Of course your local Mercedes-Benz will do this for you. But I can take this example one step further. I actually know of a man who asked his local Mercedes-Benz dealership to bring a certain model to his house so that he could inspect it. Then the representative from the dealership drove it back while the man thought about it. And when after a few days he decided to purchase it, the representative drove the car back to the buyer’s house, then waited on the street for his ride back to the dealership. A little bit couture, no?

Haute couture in the twenty-first century might very well refer to any high end service at this point in time. My circle of acquaintances includes a couple who hired away the brilliant manager of a top European hotel to manage their estate in California. This guy can do anything from wrap presents and calligraphy to photography, high end table settings, wine selections, the making of scrapbooks (very important to have for memories when one is operating at this level), chauffer, liaison between the pilot of the family jet and the passengers, you name it, he can do it. Plus he has that value-added habit we revere called “grace under pressure”.

But what haute couture really means is world class clothes designed and made by world class ateliers that have passed the strict standards of the Federation Francaise de Couture. And attending haute couture shows is indeed a world class event, so much so that when the obituaries of famous socialites, from Nan Kempner to Babe Paley and Jackie Onassis are written, their attendance at the haute couture shows is always noted. I have always believed that the human eye looks for beauty and detail first and foremost. This is why we shield our faces from nuclear reactor sites yet immerse our senses in the experience of beautiful clothes. The embroideries at Lacroix and Gaultier particularly took my breath away. It seems to me that the clothes are only becoming more beautiful and extravagant with each passing season. There have always been clothes this beautiful for those who could afford them and had the taste to appreciate them. I am always surprised by the wealthiest socialites I know who hang like moths at the stores awaiting the latest designer prêt-a-porter arrivals instead of traveling to Paris to choose the most beautiful clothes in the world. But, like the man who expects Mercedes-Benz to bring a car from the showroom to his house, and then bring it back when he decides to buy it, some women just expect more out of life than others.

Fashionlines is not asking our readers to rob a bank, but rather to think about what choices you might make for yourselves if you had unlimited funds.