358. Just a few days away from Milan Fashion Week Fall/Winter 2015-16 #MFW
I remember my first fashion shows in the elegant Sala Bianca of Palazzo Pitti in Florence…
The Fashion Shows were held in the Sala Bianca in the Spring and Fall. Each was an event that brought together the press and international buyers. For me it was all new and there was a palpable rhythm that gave no respite between one Fashion Show and another. It thrilled me and at the same time scared me.
I saw top designers and young, beautiful models rushing from one to the other to get dressed and be sent out on the catwalk. The time given was the same for all the designers, apart from slightly more time to those considered most interesting and trending.
The glamour and charm of the events was indisputable. Between the Fashion Shows the models had to change at the speed of lightning. They were all exclusively Italian.
The Italian beauty, so famous throughout the world and a richly deserved source of pride for the country, had not yet been subjected to an invasion of foreign models. Shortly thereafter international models would come onto the scene. Swedish, American, then British and today models from Eastern Europe.
My Fashion Shows, however, so different from all the others for fantasy and colours, fascinated, were liked and earned great applause. My fashion was as spontaneous as my attitude. It reflected my character, my exuberance and my madness.
Yes, because every time I thought I might not make it, I threw into my collections all the energy that I had to create something unusual. Unique. I wanted to impress.
I had no mental superstructures. I did not have to account to anyone. I was free, happy and verging on the reckless. I did what I did. I invented all alone and there was no one to tell me what I should do.
I was free to think, free to act and free to exaggerate. But that was just my luck. Everything was so simple and true.
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