The Eyes Gotta Have

By JAY COCKS

Oliver Peoples has been in the eyeglasses business on and off -- mostly off -- for the better part of this century. Suddenly he is the hottest thing in eyewear. He is also dead.

His overnight ascendancy is equal parts savvy and serendipity. Almost three years ago, Larry Leight, now 38, was looking to open an upscale optical shop in Los Angeles with three partners. No one had any fixed idea about what to stock or what to call the store. Then Leight's brother Dennis got a call from a New York City antiques dealer, inquiring whether the group would be interested in some vintage eyewear. The samples he forwarded were promising: 12-karat gold-filled frames, at least 50 years old and decorated, as Dennis recalls, "with beautiful markings, beautiful filigree."

A trip to a Manhattan basement uncovered a true trove. There were six boxes filled with 1,500 unassembled frames and the tools to put them together. A deal was struck, and the boxes were shipped to L.A. Inside one of the treasure boxes was an itemized bill signed by the eyeglasses distributor whose half- century-old inventory they had just bought: Oliver Peoples.

So christened and so stocked, the Oliver Peoples shop opened on a tony patch of Sunset Boulevard, and has rapidly become the hippest name in eyewear. Selling a combination of Peoples antiques (at an average of $200 a pop), timely improvisations on his vintage designs ($90 to $225) and original concoctions of their own (all manufactured by Optec Japan), the Peoples people are scoring an eye-popping success. They have sold some 110,000 frames through a wholesale operation and opened accounts in chichi retail outlets from Europe to Japan to Australia. Says Richard Morgenthal, president of New York City's Morgenthal-Frederics Opticians: "I have not seen a phenomenon like it in the optical world. People are asking for Peoples frames by name."

Whether new or vintage, all Peoples eyewear shares a kind of avant-garde antiquarianism. These are the specs Benjamin Franklin would have worn if he'd been into performance art instead of kite flying. Two Peoples best sellers: frames that combine tortoiseshell eye pieces and temples with a wire bridge (Nick Nolte sports a pair in the recent New York Stories); and clip-on sunglasses, the sort that '30s movie stars would attach to their specs to check out a polo match over at Will Rogers' place.

The Leights and their partners are keeping the business selective and, for many budgets, prohibitive. Faux-tortoise cases to coddle a new pair of frames are available for $50 (less flamboyant cases are available gratis, with purchase), and Peoples does the same kind of careful detail work that Coasters and fast trackers like to lavish on their cars. One Optec Japan staff member is employed exclusively to hand color each nose pad to look like tortoiseshell. Mr. Peepers may not have been able to afford anything in the store, but he would have been tempted. As for Mr. Peoples, gone these 50 years, he turns out to have been not only an optician but also something of a visionary. If only there were residuals for eyeglasses.

With reporting by Idelle Davidson/Los Angeles