Making love and wrapping up – the end of haute couture, at Gaultier, Viktor and Rolf, Valentino and Armani
The couture is over. Long live the couture. Or something. Do we really think couture is going to live forever? Yes, probably. There is enough financial muscle, enough press still clapping (I hope not sporadically), and enough clients to spuriously justify that there are women who demand dresses entirely made out of pieces of ribbon or microscopic feather flowers. And the clothes, at their best, are extraordinary.
Designer doppelgängers, and the wonder of weariness: Versace, Emilio Pucci and Bottega Veneta in Milan.
Designer identity is a big thing in Milan. Here, they’re practically rock stars, their lives and collections dissected with fervid, sometimes morbid curiosity. Earlier this month, the Corriere della Sera newspaper published a letter from Stefano Gabbana to Domenico Dolce professing his love.
I bet people wonder what fashion editors do during the “off season”: write dodgy novels, maybe? Shop? Painstakingly plan ensembles to be crated and shipped ready for the next round of shows, when said eds are released from their pen, like the rabid hounds that shred unwanted visitors to Mr Burns’ mansion in The Simpsons? Only fashion editors voraciously attack and devour garments, and sometimes designers, rather than intruders.
The couture schedule, somehow, was packed this past week. Here are a few words on a few shows for the spring/summer 2014 haute couture week, including Vionnet, Chanel, Valentino and Armani.
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