Gaby
It’s surprising Judith Leiber’s creative life hasn’t been made into a film — it deserves one.
That an unassuming Jewish girl from Hungary, Judith Leiber (1921-2018), built an empire of lively luxury accessories in the United States is only one part of her story. Screenwriters should pay attention to that thread.
About Her Work
How Judith Leiber chose the minaudière as her expressive medium remains a mystery — and there’s no one left to ask. Still, it was a brilliant choice.
By the late 1930s, when she began her fashion career, these intricately decorated evening bags were already winning hearts. But where did they come from?
A minaudière (from the French for “to flirt”) is a small evening bag that eclipsed the clutch in popularity. The 1920s origin is credited to Charles Arpels, the son of the owner and director of the Parisian jewelry house Van Cleef & Arpels. One day he saw a socialite friend tuck powder, lipstick, and a lighter into a tin from a cigarette pack. He was taken by that image. Soon after, inspired by it, minaudières began to appear; today nearly every fashion brand makes them. They are small box-like bags with a rigid frame, often on a chain and with fixed compartments.
Women packed minaudières with essentials—lipstick, powder, a lighter, and so on. Today the list has expanded to include phones, reading glasses, and keys. Often, the bags were fitted with mirrors and built-in clocks. They were sometimes attached to bracelets and frequently embellished with precious stones, rhinestones, sequins, and metalwork. Some featured striking detachable clasps that doubled as brooches.
When it comes to extraordinary minaudières, Judith Leiber was the true artist. Her pieces dazzled with imaginative ideas and were genuine works of art that older women passed down to their younger relatives. Over the years, Leiber’s incomparable minaudières were worn by actresses like Greta Garbo and Elizabeth Taylor, and by First Ladies Mamie Eisenhower, Barbara Bush, and Hillary Clinton, among other socialites.
It may have looked effortless, but behind the glamour were years of hard, often unseen work and relentless creativity. A few years before World War II, she learned basic design skills in London, worked for a handbag manufacturer in Budapest, earned recognition as a skilled artisan, furthered her art training in the United States, and eventually opened her own firm there (more on that later).
This dry outline doesn’t convey how inventive Leiber’s minaudières were: butterflies, ducks, apple boxes, frog princesses, aquariums, ancient castles, lipsticks, ice creams, kittens, tomatoes, pandas, and more. Describing them all feels thankless. For such expressions of boundless imagination, words fall short. It’s better to admire the masterfully crafted, richly decorated rarities made with a sharp sense of humor.
About Her Personal Life. And Again, About Her Work
During the war, Judith’s family miraculously survived despite never leaving Budapest. Her father obtained documents declaring the family Swiss, which allowed them to live in the residence of Swiss subjects.
After the war, Judith turned to making handbags. Among her clients were Americans. One of them, Sergeant Gerson Leiber, also born in 1921, became her husband in 1946. From then on, the couple did everything together. Gerson pursued his own creative path as an avant-garde artist under the name Gus. His works are held in institutions such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the National Gallery of Art in Washington.
The couple moved to the United States and immersed themselves in the art and social scene. In 1963, Judith Leiber took a major step: she opened her own firm and a fashion store in Chicago. Wealthy and famous women flocked to it. Over time the business grew into a fashion house that also produced bespoke jewelry, eyewear, umbrellas, and luxury perfumes. That chapter lasted 35 years. In 1998 she decided to retire. Although she sold her company, she never truly became a retiree in the classic sense.
Judith Leiber with her husband
The restless, still-creative Leiber duo founded a museum for their family’s work, the Leiber Collection. It opened in 2005. Nearby, Gerson designed a park of his own making.
Talent, recognition, and love couldn’t stop the passage of time. The couple, both 97 and married for more than 70 years, died on April 28, 2018. According to official reports, they died of heart attacks. Shortly before his death, Gerson said, “Dear, it’s time for both of us.” In a strange way it was a fitting end: neither seemed to find meaning in living on without the other.
