Not every designer can say their couture show doubled as an epilogue to being knighted by the French Republic, but not every designer is Giambattista Valli. Tonight, being named Officier des Arts et des Lettres by French Minister of Culture Rachida Dati, Valli managed to turn his haute couture presentation into a full-blown fashion coronation.
Held in his chic headquarters, the celebration unfolded like a love letter to Parisian glamour, complete with his inner circle of Valli Girls in tow. Giovanna Engelbert, Eugenie Niarchos, Lauren Santo Domingo, Sabine Getty, and, of course, his muse-in-chief Bianca Brandolini all turned up to support him. Introduced by Suzy Menkes, Valli accepted the honor with a heartfelt speech, in which he paid tribute to his atelier, his family, and to the spirit of France, where, as he put it, he discovered the essence of the liberated woman: “independent, vibrant, audacious, unapologetic, and unburdened. A woman who fully embraces her personality, who finds balance within herself. A woman whose power is real, yet soft and elegant. Drawing her strength from the gentleness of grace and the power of intelligence. What I often call: a brain… with legs.”
The newly minted Officier then ushered guests upstairs, where his latest creations stood poised on mannequins amidst Versailles-worthy bouquets. Valli never skimps on florals; the air was thick with the heady scent of rose and jasmine, which matched the dresses’ hues. The collection itself resembled a particularly fabulous botanical encyclopedia, or perhaps pages from an 18th-century herbarium. Delicate pastel tones and billowing volumes evoked the spirits of Watteau and Fragonard, masters of painting women all lightness, flirtation, and astute evanescent seduction.
The rococo muse of Valli’s couture was reimagined swathed in layer upon layer of periwinkle or apricot tulle as if caught mid-dream, or in soft-sculpted bustier gowns so airy they seemed swept up by the same breeze that flutters through Fragonard’s The Swing. Silk mousseline, tinted the softest rose pâle and looking more aura-like than fabric, was draped into a finely pleated concoction, while another standout number echoed a pointillist painting brought to life, with a sheer silk gazar gown topped by a Provençale-style cape collar drifting above a voluminous millefeuille skirt. “It’s the weight of lightness,” mused the designer, perfectly summing up the paradox he’s mastered. It was Valli in peak form, offering a full-fantasy spectrum for his Valli Girls to glide between nymph, pastoral flirt, or idyllic muse. Liberated, of course.