Fashion is a multibillion-dollar international business; it permeates our lives and our economies. Yet there has never been a book of solid, hard-hitting, uncompromising business/cultural/social journalism on this subject--because the fashion press is subsidized by the very industry it covers. Teri Agins, however, covers the fashion beat for a publication that does not rely upon fashion advertising--and she is thereby uniquely unfettered and able to finally tell the whole truth about this gigantic, flamboyant, and endlessly fascinating business. Her book traces an arc from the origins of couture and its apotheosis in the early part of this century to the advent of prjt-a-porter post .World War II and the sweeping changes that have taken place as the century ends. It is an arc from when "fashion" was defined by elite French designers whose clothes could be afforded only by the global socialites--but whose designs were copied and followed by everyone else--to the point where the rules are set by the consumers, and the designers must follow them. It is an arc from class to mass; from art to commodity. Above all, it is the story of the triumph of marketing. The narrative includes profiles of designers Emmanuel Ungaro, Giorgio Armani, Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, Donna Karan, and Zoran, as well as retailers Marshall Field and the Gap. The End of Fashion is classy and stylish, filled with insider details; it is dishy and lively and fun--as well as astute and full of insights about how the changes in the fashion business have reflected changes in the culture over the last fifty years. Agins, a veteran fashion reporter for the Wall Street Journal, has written the first factual book on the fashion industry from a business/cultural/social journalist's view. She traces the beginning of couture from the early 20th century in France through all the stages to the present, when consumers set the fashion rules and designers must follow them. Major components of her story include retailers like Marshall Field, Federated Department Stores, Dillards, Nordstrom, and the Gap as well as designers Giorgio Armani, Bill Blass, Ralph Lauren, and Donna Karan. In the end, this story is about the triumph of marketing; Agins demonstrates how changes in our culture, e.g., more casual dress, have changed the fashion business. Filled with insider details and descriptions of the fickle nature of consumers, this book belongs in academic business and fashion collections.ASusan C. Awe, Univ. of New Mexico Lib., Albuquerque Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc. In one of the oddest industries ever to be chronicled, CEOs of IPOs clash with the wishes of their majority shareholders, and luxury conglomerates exist solely by the avarice and greed of fans of their labels. What else but the incestuous fashion world--and who better to chronicle its rise and fall and rise and fall than an independent, objective Wall Street Journal reporter? Agins tells the tales well and thus captures readers' attention, narrating the stories of the Ralph Lauren-Tommy Hilfiger rivalry, the power of celebrity dressing, and the four reasons for the decline of "true" fashion. (One reason is that "people stopped dressing up." Duh!) All of the gossipy details are here, like Donna Karan's legendary hissy fits. So, too, is the business side, such as the wheeling and dealing pre^- Wall Street . Many of the stories, though, remain semidetached, without much of a connection except the names and the rags industry itself. Barbara Jacobs The heady days of haute couture are passing, says Wall Street Journal reporter Agins, and are being followed by name-brand mass marketing. The great fashion houses, one gathers from her report, are fading in an excess of hauteur. In a text that is more knowing than it is dishy and more respectful than it need be, Agins shows that some emperors of the garment trade are not that well decked out. She gets down to business in the odd world of $10,000-a-day supermodels and wealthy fashionistas, garmentos and knock-off artistes, beginning with the fall of Paris, the capital of high fashion, where style, not substance, had been all. But baby boomer career women let go of fashion; most people eschewed fancy dress; fashion was valued less than before; and top designers abandoned originality. ``Bridge'' goods (less pricey apparel) took hold. Boutiques replaced the top ateliers. Widespread licensing of T-shirts, briefs, and fragrances and the sale of signatures was followed by street vendor forgeries. Now, to express individuality, everyone may wear the same garments, on which only the names are changed. And the names drop like confetti. The story is traced through various players, from Armani to Ungaro and Zoran. Tweedledum and Tweedledee (Ralph Lauren and Tommy Hilfiger) try to capture the flag for their own logos. As Donna Karan discovered when she went to Wall Street, fashion's connection to the real world is frequently tenuous. It is