Columnist Susan Snyder: Local cleaner keeps stars stain-free

Sunday, Feb. 6, 2000 | 9:33 a.m.

Susan Snyder's column appears Sundays and Tuesdays. Reach her at snyder@vegas.com or 259-4082.

In Hollywood circles they call him "Mr. Vic."

He's Vic Plassman -- the man behind the creases in the Rockettes' pants, the starch in Sylvester Stallone's shirts, the fluff in Big Bird's feathers.

As owner of Steiner Cleaners & Laundry, Plassman is Las Vegas' own stain-master of the stars.

Once, he even made sure 4,000 rhinestones were replaced in Liberace's cape. It took one of his employees a whole week.

"She'd work four or five hours on it, then stop. You could only do it for so long," Plassman said.

More than 90 autographed photos of those whose duds he has de-spotted and pressed hang above the counter in his Tropicana Avenue store.

Robert De Niro is up there, along with Tony Bennett, Andy Gibb, Shirley Jones, Phyllis Diller and Hank Williams Jr.

He's still waiting on a photo from Stallone, whose shirts and pants he spruced up when the actor was in town last month filming a movie.

Plassman keeps a thick album of pay vouchers or cast lists for the movies he's "done." There was "Casino," "Vegas Vacation," "Anywhere But Here" and "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas."

He pulled in $2,175 for that last one.

"They can come back," Plassman said.

Andy Gibb once rode his van. Robert Goulet invited him to his wedding. Paramount keeps his name on file.

"I'm still amazed at what I get to do," he said.

And it all started with Liberace, the late king of sequins, spangles and furs. Every dry cleaner's nightmare.

"The first time he brought something in here, I was scared to death," Plassman said.

He didn't even own the place yet. Plassman worked at Steiner's for eight years before the owner sold it to him. He was a spotter when one of Liberace's employees came in and said the performer wanted Plassman as his personal dry cleaner.

"He said, 'He'd like you to come over to the house tonight so he can meet you.' If it hadn't happened to me, I never would have believed it," Plassman said.

The first big job came right after one of Liberace's long road tours.

"They pulled a truck up here with all the costumes in it. I was a nervous wreck," Plassman said. "I'd never done anything like that before."

He probably never could do it again. Liberace's costumes took some extra care and creativity.

"The stuff I did for him then, I couldn't do now because of EPA regulations," he said with a laugh.

The tales tickle even him -- especially the one about that day they dropped off Liberace's full-length white fox coat. That week's "National Enquirer" said it was worth $300,000.

"I called my insurance agent and said, 'Am I insured for this?' He said, 'No! Get that thing out of there!' " Plassman recalled.

Plassman mother-hens the celebrity jobs he doesn't do himself. Celebrities can be a picky lot.

He pointed to the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes' toy soldier pants hanging behind him. They must be stiff enough to stand by themselves, he said. Each leg has four creases, and each pair takes an hour to press.

But it's no big deal, he said.

That's why they call him "Mr. Vic."