I know it's been days and days and days. I have a lot to discuss, but first things first!
Dior - Well you already know how I feel about that. Sigh.
Ahhhh, Valentino. He always gets it right. Always wearable but not in the slightest bit common. He's fantasy if your desire is to be a lady of leisure or the wife of a French president or luxury goods magnate. And tell me who doesnt have such desires. The smartest suits with a more than healthy dose of film noir. A cigarette is required equipment for such a look, as well as a thick coating of knife-edged dragon red lipstick. Photo 18 is what I will meet you in for drinks, where you can tell me the details on how you plan to kill your wife. Photo 21 is what I will wear to the 30th birthday of a dear model friend and where you insult me and I'm forced to toss my dirty martini in your face [sorry dahling]. Photo 28 will be worn to one of the never-ending art gallery openings...though on this particular night I overhear a handsome stranger's plan for stealing the crown piece of the art show, moments before its auction. And, of course, I lounge around the apartment in Photo 43.
Anne Valerie Hash - Her style is a little too floaty-bland-*artiste* for me, though the blouse in Photo 18 is lovely. The multi-layered pleating of the skirt in 25 is also very interesting. As a whole, her style of reconstructed menswear is just not very me. And it's all about me.
Ralph Rucci Chado - I usu view him as the epitome of bland, but the inkling of courrege and 60s style livens things up. A tad. A very sharply dressed woman, no doubt. Perhaps I will wear Photos 9, 20 and 21 when I enter my sixth or seventh decade...Photo 31 is simply lovely though.
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