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TIME: Almanac 1995
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<text id=89TT0747>
<title>
Mar. 20, 1989: Fashion Without Frontiers
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
Mar. 20, 1989 Solving The Mysteries Of Heredity
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
LIVING, Page 94
Fashion Without Frontiers
</hdr><body>
<p>Two top Italian designers defect to France
</p>
<p> Pass the smelling salts: Valentino has deserted Italy for
France. And that's not all. Romeo Gigli will take his
pseudo-cerebral fashions out of Milan and plunk them down in
the middle of the Paris runways. Desertion! Infamy! Tribal
politics! Frets Beppe Modenese, program organizer of the just
concluded Milan fashion week: "Both Valentino and Gigli have
done big damage to the Italian fashion image."
</p>
<p> So have their clothes, but then that is a matter of taste.
By choosing to absent themselves from their home turf, Valentino
and Gigli have sent the kind of political signal that is beyond
debate: Paris is fashion central, and Milan is just a big
backyard. This is not news to the French, of course, who
responded to the story of the traveling Italians with the kind
of equanimity that barely skirts smugness. "Paris is still No.
1 in fashion," says Jacques Mouclier, president of the Chambre
Syndicale, which sponsors the twice-yearly ready-to-wear fashion
shows held in the jammed courtyard of the Louvre. "The Italians
have come because they've realized they can't do without us. The
Milan ready-to-wear draws far fewer journalists than the shows
in Paris. Need I say more?"
</p>
<p> Perhaps not. Gigli and Valentino have already said plenty.
"I don't believe in frontiers," reflects Gigli. Explains Carla
Sozzani, a business associate of the designer's: "Romeo's all
for 1992 and a united Europe." Valentino has announced some
similar geopolitical aims. "I am going to Paris as an Italian
designer to speak for Italy," he says. "I will never betray my
country, but I need the challenge to do better." Elaborates
Giancarlo Giammetti, Valentino's partner: "Rome is becoming a
very provincial market, and it's simply not stimulating the
creator."
</p>
<p> The Creator may have finished his big job in six days, but
Giammetti's creator works full time to fuel his fashion empire
(estimated wholesale haul for 1989: $600 million), and has for
some time been trying to seem like an internationalist.
Valentino's ready-to-wear has been on view in Paris for the past
14 years without attracting a commotion. Gigli is looking for
an imprimatur, separating himself from the excellent elegances
of Milan in favor of the more experimental company in Paris. The
intrepid Japanese designers show their stuff in Paris; so do the
haut trendies like Jean-Paul Gaultier and Claude Montana. The
company is faster there than in Milan, where Giorgio Armani,
Italy's premier talent, casts a very long shadow indeed.
"Presumptuous," is the way Armani characterizes Gigli's move,
adding, "He may want to be international, but his move is
premature."
</p>
<p> Milan has been bucking Paris and all its traditions for
over a decade, but the City of Light still holds a clear lead.
Milan staked its claim in a time of flux, when the fashion
establishment, still shell-shocked by the '60s, was not quite
so restrictive. Italy came on with a rush of fresh talent:
dazzling designers (like the Missonis), some fine hands (like
Gianfranco Ferre) and some naughty boys (like Gianni Versace).
But, in Armani, it produced just a single world beater. Paris,
on the other hand, can still offer a wider spectrum: sumptuous
Saint Laurent, engaging Lagerfeld, generative Miyake, fast-flash
Gaultier, ebullient Patrick Kelly. As ever, it is center stage,
the arena on which designers want most to play, especially if
they are coming on (like Gigli) or consolidating (like
Valentino).
</p>
<p> There was also some suggestion around the Milan shows last
week that Gigli had left in a bit of a huff, having lost a
wrangle over a choice scheduling spot to Ferre, whose revenues
($390 million in 1988) currently carry a good deal more clout
than Gigli's (under $10 million). "One day I just woke up and
thought I'd like to show in Paris," shrugs Gigli, perhaps
forgetting that Paris, for other Italian designers (like
Simonetta), turned into a nightmare that left them
disenfranchised, with no singular creative identity. "I
shouldn't yet take all this for more than a one-season wonder,"
said Suzy Menkes, the savvy fashion editor of the International
Herald Tribune. "All designers are prima donnas to some extent,
and I expect Gigli just wanted to teach the Milanese organizers
a lesson."
</p>
<p> For his part, Valentino was playing the diplomat. "It's a
great joy for me to show in Paris," he said. "I'll certainly
still show in Rome, but couture is my metier, and I learned it
in Paris. But I always keep my Italian accent when speaking
French, and so do my clothes." By the time some State Department
of Fashion has worked out all the coded signals and careful
contradictions in that dispatch, the dust will have settled.
There is always a lot of it around during fashion season anyway,
especially when the clothes aren't good enough to clear the air.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>