I really, truly love Couture week; the wondrous few days...
where all of Paris’ historic and iconic Fashion Houses display creations that boggle the mind (and the wallet). It is essentially a big ole exercise in showing off the skills of your atelier. Lord knows how many man-hours some of these dresses rack up, not to mention the blood, sweat and tears of little old French madams.
Now, Versace is an Italian brand (obvs) but they were the openers for PFW this year. All I will say is, if it weren’t Versace I would dismiss it as hideous euro-trash, but as that is Donatella’s trademark it’s okay.
The day-glo pink and yellow didn’t sit well with the black which cheapened it. The collection looked not dissimilar to the dream wardrobe of an Eastern European hooker (harsh, I know). It lacked that Versay-say sexiness too; the models usually scream SEX!!! Not- tramp.
Whether the clothes would look any better on a civilian than a super… well, I doubt that, so lucky most of us could sell all our assets and our mother and still not have raised enough cash to purchase even an Atelier Versace sock.
I loved the use of coloured fur (although you could put a Mink on a serial killer and I’d declare it fabulous so I’m obviously swayed by pelts), that saved this collection, but I missed the floor sweeping gowns a lot! Why weren’t there more? Trashy can always be tempered by appropriate skirt length.
Anyhoo- I ain’t wowed but I enjoyed the show. Your thoughts?