Keeper of the Couture Flame
By Suzy Menkes. Excerpt from the book 'Valentino. Una grande storia Italiana'
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In their frothy, sensual, sweet-toothed glamour, Valentino's clothes seem quintessentially Italian—the half-century oeuvre of a maestro whose fashion soul is as Roman as his profile.
The designer's mantra is: "I always wanted to make women beautiful," and his inspiration was that of a provincial boy in the drab post-war period going to the movies with his sister and catching the glory days of Hollywood stars in their silver-screen years.
Like the rest of the Romans, he was fascinated by the shiny, Dolce Vita glamour and he gave it classical class. By the time he was touched with the stardust of his own era, dressing the famous who were also his friends, Valentino had become part of the motion picture. Images of the young designer with deep, dark eyes, his models dressed in pristine white, accompanied photographs of his celebrated international clients: Elizabeth Taylor, Sophia Loren and his dear Jackie—Jacqueline Kennedy—who turned to him for her state wardrobe and later for her girlish wedding dress for her marriage to Aristotle Onassis. But Valentino did not rise, fully formed, like Botticelli's Venus from some mysterious fashion ocean. His famous 'White' collection in Florence in 1968 might have appeared to mark an effortless ascent. But the truth is different: a long and hard-working journey over nearly 20 years to fame and fortune. And a significant mix of French style with his Italian heritage.
Valentino's early years have something in common with the Old Masters of Italian art. For the designer's secret is that he became, at age 17, a humble apprentice—not to an artist, but to the art of haute couture. Hearing Valentino talk now about the fruitful decade in Paris in the 1950s, when he drew designs on scraps of paper, interviewed with Balenciaga and got a position with Jean Dessès, it seems a world away from today's fashion colleges, runway dramatics and fast, factory-made fashion. The fledgling designer witnessed the high noon of haute couture, as the ideas he had expressed as pencil strokes were transformed via canvas toiles, fine fabrics and fittings into beautiful clothes.
Those French years were also the seedbed of Valentino's fashion style, which grew into that particular Franco-Italian blend of light-handed 'barocco' that is known as Rococo. If you define the essence of Valentino's work, it is also the definition of Rococo: exquisite flourishes developed from a sculpted base. It is evident in the designer's tailoring, when a jacket has a lacy collar or a skirt breaks out into ruffles at the hem. The dresses are pure Rococo with their millefeuille layers and decorative details. Such finesse does not come easily. Valentino recalls the giddy workload of those formative French years after his parents allowed him to come to Paris and lodged him with friends. He also talks about the gratitude he feels to his parents: his father's support when, to finance the new House of Valentino in Rome in the 1960s, the Garavanis' modest country home was sold. The couturier says he owes to his elegant mother the advice to keep things classy and simple.
Those early years as a studio hand—and his father's example—must have instilled a work ethic that is the essence of Valentino's life. Apart from his beloved couture, for which every silhouette, fabric and embellishment is a personal decision, Giancarlo Giammetti, his partner and friend since they met in 1960, says that 75 per cent of the company's output goes through the maestro's nimble hands.
And what an output! Whereas the great couturiers of the past showed two collections a year to their private clients, Giammetti lists the litany of collections: ready-to-wear, sport, shoes, bags, belts, cruise and pre-season collections. They make up the Valentino empire—further enlarged since the company was bought by Marzotto S. p. A., the Italian conglomerate, in 2002.
Page [1] [2]
Page [1] [2]
In their frothy, sensual, sweet-toothed glamour, Valentino's clothes seem quintessentially Italian—the half-century oeuvre of a maestro whose fashion soul is as Roman as his profile.
The designer's mantra is: "I always wanted to make women beautiful," and his inspiration was that of a provincial boy in the drab post-war period going to the movies with his sister and catching the glory days of Hollywood stars in their silver-screen years.
Like the rest of the Romans, he was fascinated by the shiny, Dolce Vita glamour and he gave it classical class. By the time he was touched with the stardust of his own era, dressing the famous who were also his friends, Valentino had become part of the motion picture. Images of the young designer with deep, dark eyes, his models dressed in pristine white, accompanied photographs of his celebrated international clients: Elizabeth Taylor, Sophia Loren and his dear Jackie—Jacqueline Kennedy—who turned to him for her state wardrobe and later for her girlish wedding dress for her marriage to Aristotle Onassis. But Valentino did not rise, fully formed, like Botticelli's Venus from some mysterious fashion ocean. His famous 'White' collection in Florence in 1968 might have appeared to mark an effortless ascent. But the truth is different: a long and hard-working journey over nearly 20 years to fame and fortune. And a significant mix of French style with his Italian heritage.
Valentino's early years have something in common with the Old Masters of Italian art. For the designer's secret is that he became, at age 17, a humble apprentice—not to an artist, but to the art of haute couture. Hearing Valentino talk now about the fruitful decade in Paris in the 1950s, when he drew designs on scraps of paper, interviewed with Balenciaga and got a position with Jean Dessès, it seems a world away from today's fashion colleges, runway dramatics and fast, factory-made fashion. The fledgling designer witnessed the high noon of haute couture, as the ideas he had expressed as pencil strokes were transformed via canvas toiles, fine fabrics and fittings into beautiful clothes.
Those French years were also the seedbed of Valentino's fashion style, which grew into that particular Franco-Italian blend of light-handed 'barocco' that is known as Rococo. If you define the essence of Valentino's work, it is also the definition of Rococo: exquisite flourishes developed from a sculpted base. It is evident in the designer's tailoring, when a jacket has a lacy collar or a skirt breaks out into ruffles at the hem. The dresses are pure Rococo with their millefeuille layers and decorative details. Such finesse does not come easily. Valentino recalls the giddy workload of those formative French years after his parents allowed him to come to Paris and lodged him with friends. He also talks about the gratitude he feels to his parents: his father's support when, to finance the new House of Valentino in Rome in the 1960s, the Garavanis' modest country home was sold. The couturier says he owes to his elegant mother the advice to keep things classy and simple.
Those early years as a studio hand—and his father's example—must have instilled a work ethic that is the essence of Valentino's life. Apart from his beloved couture, for which every silhouette, fabric and embellishment is a personal decision, Giancarlo Giammetti, his partner and friend since they met in 1960, says that 75 per cent of the company's output goes through the maestro's nimble hands.
And what an output! Whereas the great couturiers of the past showed two collections a year to their private clients, Giammetti lists the litany of collections: ready-to-wear, sport, shoes, bags, belts, cruise and pre-season collections. They make up the Valentino empire—further enlarged since the company was bought by Marzotto S. p. A., the Italian conglomerate, in 2002.
Page [1] [2]
Valentino Garavani. Una grande storia italiana.
Hardcover + Box, 33 x 44 cm (13 x 17.3 in.), 738 pages
$ 1800.00
$ 1800.00
The glamorous life and work of Valentino Garavani. Limited to 2,000 numbered copies, each numbered and signed by fashion designer Valentino Garavani.
Valentino and his models playing blind man's buff in the gardens of Château de Wideville. Harper's Bazaar USA, June 2007. (c) Jean-Paul Goude.
Haute Couture. Spring-Summer 2004, Mod. 132. Draped point d’esprit evening dress with a slipstyle neckline and a cleverly draped sleeve; the bustier features tight little horizontal pleats, the hips are accentuated by macramé lace, and the skirt is edged with an organza flounce that covers another two underskirts in point d’esprit with rhinestone embroidery; they in turn conceal a third pink organza skirt and a fourth fleshcolored chiffon skirt, all with a flounce trim (detail).