Pierpaolo Piccioli’s latest haute couture collection for Valentino, an haute experiment in dressing women with a variety of body frames, is sure to rouse interest among design students, diversity proponents — and anyone with more than a passing curiosity about why we find some bodies more beautiful than others.
The Italian designer decided to break the couture tradition of fitting collections on a single-fit model and embrace a broader spectrum of humanity in terms of age and body shape. He relished the challenge of creating couture outfits that would best dignify and exalt the beauty of each individual, achieving the purpose of couture in the first place.
Lo and behold, he discovered that this exercise unleashed a host of new silhouettes, and isn’t that also the purpose of high fashion — and its magic — in the first place?
“It was interesting for me to study, and drape on a body that has different proportions,” Piccioli said during a preview, showing off work-in-progress snapshots of various people in the cast, including one trans individual, testing a variety of outfits. For example, for silver-haired Marie Sophie Wilson, who is still modeling in her 70s, the designer ultimately arrived at a blousy couture T-shirt in wool crepe over a sparkly fishtail skirt. She looked ravishing in it.
“I wanted to delve into the idea that beauty has nothing to do with models; beauty is about humanity,” he stressed. “I like the variety.”
Piccioli led a visitor to a mood board of images from across millennia that depicted shifting preferences for body shapes: At times a vogue for “verticalism” prevailed, as in the Middle Ages; at others softer, horizontal shapes were more appreciated, he explained, also mentioning the advent of plastic surgery in the ’90s, which introduced new, artificial possibilities.
Pointing to the range of women on his casting board, he singled out Lynne Koester, one of his favorite models from the ’80s; Violeta Sanchez, who worked closely with Yves Saint Laurent; and Jill Kortleve, the Dutch model who is often isolated on runways as a plus-sized token amid the usual tall, skinny ranks.
“She represents a new way of being fierce, but she’s kind of alone,” Piccioli lamented, also noting that Kortleve’s shape is frequently disguised in blocky outfits. “She’s everywhere, but she’s hidden.”
In his view, “you have to see the fierceness of a different body,” and so he concocted a one-shouldered little black dress that opened up on one side to make the most of Kortleve’s uniqueness. “She’s proud to have that kind of body and you have to consider that.”
Out of an abundance of caution, given the Omicron wave ripping through Europe, he invited only about five dozen people to witness the show, staged at Valentino’s gilded salons on the Place Vendôme. The residential setting, despite its grandeur, had a more human scale that supported the idea behind the show.
Piccioli held nothing back in terms of the superb artistry he brings to couture, arresting in its bold color combinations and stupefying in its craftsmanship and finesse. He favored austere lines and restrained embellishment, which seem to be the main messages out of couture week.
Whether he went far enough in this experiment in age and body diversity is sure to be debated ferociously on social media. One guest familiar with the premise — dubbed the “Anatomy of Couture” — expressed dismay that Piccioli didn’t go further in embracing more overtly plus-sized models.
Yet it was hard not be moved by how gorgeous every single person looked treading the white carpet to the soaring voice of Anohni (previously Antony of Antony and the Johnsons.)
One could argue that Picciolio achieved the mission summed up in his press notes: “Altering the process, yet keeping the quest for beauty and grace intact.”
