October 10, 2009
At Giorgio's place
Forgive my absence these past few days, I'd really like to be able to communicate with you more often, but lately my life has been a "tómbola, tom, tom, tómbola, de luz y de colooorr ooo oo orrr" (a lottery of light and color), but a lottery nonetheless, happy and exhausting at the same time.
As I told you the other day, I visited Grandpa Giorgio's house.
As I told you the other day, I visited Grandpa Giorgio's house.
Let me tell you that in person, Giorgio is a very attractive man; he must have been formidable when he was young. In the next photo, he's with his niece, the head designer for Emporio Armani, who has also inherited strong features.
If you ever visit Giorgio's house, I would recommend a black+white dress code if you don't want to stand out from the other guests.
Luckily, there's always someone who completely disregards the dress code.
Giorgio's house, the Armani Theater, is the empire's headquarters and the place where all the fashion shows, showrooms, and other press presentations are organized. The building was an old abandoned Nestlé factory until Armani bought it in 2002 and commissioned Tadao Ando for its renovation.
Tadao, being Japanese, decided to create a pool with only 2cm of perpetual water, very zen, very peaceful, but not very practical if you want to take a swim...
He also decided to create columns that started from the floor but didn't reach the ceiling... in my opinion, a most disturbing detail, I wonder how the construction workers took the instructions for the job.
I noticed that the average age of the fashion show attendees was higher than at Cibeles Fashion Week. I imagine this is because, in Armani's case, "we are talking business here." No subsidies; here, you risk it all every season, and if the press or buyers from all over the world don't like the show...uff, you're in trouble.
I also notice that photographers are equally bored everywhere in the world – well, no, at least at Cibeles they flirt with the models.
Why is it that at every fashion show someone decides to wear a turban that takes over the world? Don't they realize that the person sitting behind them might not appreciate it? I don't care why they do it, put something tidier on, woman, how inconsiderate.
Armani's staff is dressed in black from head to toe.
Suzy Menkes, bless her heart, as lovely as she is, had a bit of a cold and I imagine she was fed up with fashion shows (or her fringe, in her case), so every now and then she'd nod off.
And she would wake up after a while, looking around as if to say, "Did this tent notice that I fell asleep?"
"I'll pretend to write something so it's not obvious... must remember to buy toothpicks for my eyelids."
And finally the show begins, I couldn't be happier, well, I could have been a little happier if I had brought the family, to be honest. The day before, I spoke with stepsister M who lives far away and she told me, I can't believe it, you're going to make one of our lifelong dreams come true.
Sitting in the stands at Giorgio's, I remembered what she had told me, of the afternoons all three of us sat in front of "Hola Especial Alta Costura" (let's not pretend we're modern; back then they were the only ones covering fashion weeks) dissecting every last detail of each photo and yelling at Countess Mother to come and look at the next dress she had to make for us. Next time, I'll charter the Air Force One for them if necessary; I'm sure Obama will understand and let me have it.
Sitting in the stands at Giorgio's, I remembered what she had told me, of the afternoons all three of us sat in front of "Hola Especial Alta Costura" (let's not pretend we're modern; back then they were the only ones covering fashion weeks) dissecting every last detail of each photo and yelling at Countess Mother to come and look at the next dress she had to make for us. Next time, I'll charter the Air Force One for them if necessary; I'm sure Obama will understand and let me have it.
Watching the fashion show and then comparing it with Style.com photos confirmed my idea that seeing fashion shows live and in person is incomparable to seeing them in the press. This might sound obvious, it's true, but I was struck by how a brand that initially no longer held much interest for me, when seen live, fascinated me.
The jackets don't just shine, they gleam.
The finishes are perfect.
There are hundreds of details on the backs that we don't see.
The models crossed the runway two by two and in a single direction, no turning back.
In a swimsuit, I felt like complimenting the models in true Spanish working-class style. In another post, I'll show you photos of the girls; if in Paris they were androgynous aliens, here they are 2-meter tall amazons.
I agree with Giorgio, polka dots are back next summer.
When the show ended, I was left wanting an encore. By the way, in Milan, some shows, given the large number of attendees, are repeated twice so that no one misses out.
Oh, you asked if I snuck in. On this occasion, I must clarify that no, in fact, not even with the Mission Impossible team could I have managed it. I had a legitimate invitation, with a seat number and everything, like an honorable guest, ahem, as I always am.
Lots of kisses,
The Countess, grateful for yesterday's birthday wishes (Facebook tattletale)
Oh, you asked if I snuck in. On this occasion, I must clarify that no, in fact, not even with the Mission Impossible team could I have managed it. I had a legitimate invitation, with a seat number and everything, like an honorable guest, ahem, as I always am.
Lots of kisses,
The Countess, grateful for yesterday's birthday wishes (Facebook tattletale)