Rome
They changed the name of the most famous city in the world, and renamed the place Valentino, or so it seemed last weekend in the Eternal City. What can I say? I know nothing about fashion, except that I know a beautiful dress when I see one, but I do know a lot about parties, and this one took the cake, all three days of it.
Valentino’s blend of elegance and sexiness has always attracted brand names. I suppose Jackie Onassis was among the first to spot his rare talent, but, to his credit, Valentino never went the way of Lagerfeld and other snooty seamstresses. In fact, on the contrary. The bigger he got, the nicer he became. Mind you, I have always known him to be incredibly generous and considerate of small-timers and big shots alike, and this in the cut-throat world of multibillionaire chancers and fashionistas, a world which makes Hollywood look like the von Trapp family in The Sound of Music. The festivities even upstaged the Rolling Wrinklies, who were in Rome performing on the same nights, Mick Jagger being among the first to show up at the Valentino parties.
The extravaganza was made possible by the city, which turned over some of its most historic sights to Valentino and the Oscar-winning film designer Dante Ferretti, who proceeded to put up 40 classical columns illuminated from within in the Ruins of the Temple of Venus, adjacent to the Colosseum. We were driven up by electric carts and then walked on red carpets into this vast space, where more than 2,000 years ago Aphrodite ruled supreme. The place was jammed with bold-faced names, fantastic-looking models and Hollywood actresses, yet it felt cosy and almost intimate, the Colosseum serving as a reminder of how fleeting beauty and power can be.
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