“She was my swan, my forever muse,” said Giambattista Valli. Backstage, his moodboad left no doubt as to who he was referring to: the late Lee Radziwill, who he befriended and to whom he dedicated the fall collection. “She definitely opened the portal to my understanding of timeless beauty; I revered her mental and cultural posture, her impeccable eye for editing,” he said. The late André Leon Talley felt the same admiration; he once said of Radziwill: “She edits herself. She edits her wardrobe. She edits her life.”
The naturally stylish Radziwill favored a sleek, uptown minimalism that coexisted with a more haute bohemian side. On Valli’s moodboard, photos of her at Truman Capote’s Black and White Ball, looking divine in an almost severe white column dress, alternated with images of her chic, serene interiors, decorated by Renzo Mongiardino or Christian Liaigre with a flair for the exotic and the delicately floral. Valli picked up Radziwill’s penchant for sophisticated restraint as well as her charming taste for herbariums, Mughal and boteh patterns, and for an almost impalpable shade of Indian pink.
Silhouettes alternated from the slender to the softly eccentric; elongated tailored coats and short A-line shifts were interspersed with accents of flou and a dash of the botanical—floaty chiffon dresses printed with Shalimar florals, trench coats embroidered with bouquets of roses, short pinafores ornamented with paisley motifs. The palette of ivory, black, and what Valli called “Lee’s pink” emphasized his edited approach. Concise, terse, tinged with whimsy, the collection would certainly have got Radzwill’s stamp of approval.
