Some of Rossella Tarabini's spring dresses are so delicate, they had to be laid out on the floor like a bevy of reclining fairies before the show. Handmade, wispy concoctions of blush-hued plissé georgette, charmeuse, and lace, they looked like the contents of a Victorian trousseau. "They are my dream dresses," Tarabini said, a combined result of her obsession with fine lingerie and a photograph of the Russian royal family she had pinned to her inspiration board.
On the runway, these dresses were interspersed with shorts and cropped pantsuits—sometimes in the shiny, candy-wrapper metallics that are appearing all over Milan—and balanced on seventies-esque wedges. Tarabini's little jackets were occasionally funked up with Pop Art plastic pins in the form of lips, stars, and wings—but as she said, this collection was more about pure romance than rock chick. When the final group of pleated chiffons came out, the barefoot models looked as if they were channeling Madame Récamier on her way to bed. This is Tarabini's own personal vision, and while it might not change the direction of fashion, some of her special pieces have the air of lovely collectibles.
