In the final show of the haute couture week, Pierpaolo Piccioli for the house of Valentino unwittingly offered a rather different answer to that question that had loomed over the catwalks: What would Meghan Markle wear? Possibly nothing, unless the house of Windsor gets super chic (of a fearless, head-spinning variety) super fast. Banish the drabulousness, begone the greige! Piccioli, instead, offered a parade of such extravagantly saturated hues, swaggering proportions, and how-does-one-even-do-that craftsmanship that in closing it brought the audience to its feet and a tear to the eye of Mr. Valentino (seated, as always, front row, along with Luca Guadagnino, Alba Rohrwacher, Alexandre Desplat, and the singer Mika).
But let’s begin with the backstory. “With ready-to-wear, your vision of beauty relates to the times you are living in,” said Piccioli. “Couture involves a deeper and more intimate perspective, to go further into your own vision of beauty.” And this season his vision involves a mash-up of Greek mythology, 17th- and 18th-century painting, the films of Pasolini and the photographs of Deborah Turbeville, medieval armor, and Ziggy Stardust. Sounds mad yet looks magnificent, especially in capes appliquéd, embroidered, and even perhaps quilted with gods and goddesses. An evening dress composed of multiple brocades, rhinestones, sequins, pearls, and vivid textural embroideries is described by Piccioli as “Renaissance meets Versailles meets ’60s whatever” but the truth is far more fabulous: It’s not a set of references, but a dream of a dress, which is what couture should be, frankly.
And there are many dreamy dresses in this collection: a trio in featherweight taffeta that wrap, balloon, and float around the body, tethered by discreet micro-pleating; a red strapless gown (signature Valentino) sculpted from a scuba jersey; an emerald and mauve column in crepe intarsia depicting an entwined Daphne and Apollo, cut like a long T-shirt and cinched at the waist by a drawstring.
For day Piccioli paired extravagant capes with cropped full pants or neat Bermuda shorts and blouses with soft ties at the neck or exuberantly ruffled cuffs. There are long pleated skirts of radzimir and velvet, backless jumpsuits in lightweight double-face, and lamé jackets and tees. The colors—gold, strawberry, almond, pistachio, turquoise, tangerine, lemon—are luscious and dramatic, and the volumes equally so. These are clothes for when one is tired of merely blending in or in any way circumscribing one’s presence in the world. These clothes are not about being “skinny” or “sexy” or “avant-garde.” They are about being dressed beautifully and courageously, and that is so rare as to be utterly thrilling to behold.
Look at the images from this show, and do not be distracted by Guido Palau’s fantastic teased coifs or his wonderful flower heads. Do not spend too long on Kaia and her pink feather fiesta, beautiful though it is. Consider, instead, a chiffon cape of emerald sequins paired with simple wool trousers in prune and ask yourself, Would I wear it? Would Meghan? And if not, why? Shouldn’t we all dream of, and realize, a world so unapologetically fabulous?
