March 6, 2017 |
Hello, daddy. Hello, mom. I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! Or so sung the Giambattista Valli ladies (in our heads) this morning, not because they bore any resemblance to Joan Jett, apart from maybe the hair, which had a faint greasiness to it, rather for the more simple reason that there were cherries stitched about on to the collection. And there was some cherry-hued red. Think there is probably some sort of “popping one’s cherry” joke to be had here, but after a month of fashions we can’t quite find it. Now, we should warm you (although, judging by the dubious beginning to this review, you already know) we did not lay our eyes on a press release. So are we totally wrong to get a touch of the Austrian princess from this? Or perhaps another obscure European principality? It’s something about those ruffles, the touches of florals, the candy stripes. Puff sleeves also suggest princess, as do garments so embellished they may actually be pulled down by the weight of their own sequinned glitz. Less princess-y was the flash of knicker peeked through sheer gowns but, well, everyone’s got to let their hair down.
Photographs by Jason Lloyd-Evans
