The Malta Independent on Sunday
Dressing to thrill
Ilove winter except that we go back to wearing tights. Tights mean snags and ladders. “Is that a ladder in your tights or a stairway to heaven?” I remember an acquaintance of mine, of many mango seasons ago, using that as a chatline. Whether he was ever successful at capturing that ‘stairway to heaven’ I have no idea.
And it is because of a ladder in my 15 deniers that I arrived at Verdala Palace two weeks or so ago feeling a little unhappy. My fingernail had caught the light gossamer fabric and within seconds the snag had crawled into a ladder of indecent proportions. Even a snag of rough skin is enough to rapture the finest of yarns.
And this at a fashion show where every woman present was perfectly groomed and certainly, with no ladders in their tights.
Whoever made tights for women fashionable deserves one of Dante’s circles of hell.
I was told, years ago, that I should freeze tights to stabilise the fibres and prevent laddering but I have no intention of tryng that. In my younger days I used to always carry a pair of spare tights in my handbag but no more. Who is going to look at my legs anyway. There are consolations, too, when you reach a certain age. Are we surprised that so many women now take refuge in trousers?
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Verdala Palace that evening looked even more splendid than usual. It was Hugues Cardinal Loubenx De Verdalle (1582-1595), the only Grand Master who was raised to the purple (of a cardinal’s hat), that had this palace built mostly to get away from the intrigues of the individual Langues and of course our long and hot summers. The great Girolamo Cassar, was the architect, the same man who built St John’s and the auberges, for a start. What would he say to our newly built blocks of hideous flats?
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The evening started off with a reception in the banqueting hall which was further enhanced with tasteful decorations by the Orienta sisters, Mariella Scerri and Pat. It is in this hall that the French Grand Master had commissioned the artist Filippo Paladini to paint frescoes to illustrate chapters from his life. They were restored a few years ago and I remember going to celebrate the occasion.
Guests started slowly making their way upstairs to enjoy the fashion show.
So many tall and attractive models and mostly Maltese it seems, I said to myself as I sat down. Soon Norma Saliba started introducing each brand.
Faux fur is very much in vogue and it is one way of injecting new life to our wardrobe with a faux fur jacket or scarf, both very flattering. Fur also gives the wearer an air of youthful sophistication and doesn’t upset your conscience at the thought that animals had been killed for the sake of your vanity.
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I loved the peacock suits and also the peacock ‘swing’ jackets trimmed with black velvet and which go with everything – skirts or classic trousers. Absolutely stunning.
Purple, a colour I love but which doesn’t seem to appeal much to designers, is clearly ‘in’ and plucky purple dresses for both day and evening wear were very much in evidence. I particularly liked a lace number worn by a stunning model.
And here is a warning: if you subscribe to a palette of neutrals, if your wardrobe is built on a rotation of crisp, unfettered white shirts, if you’re currently longing for one of those camel coloured cashmere twinsets, known as classics, but beyond boring; if your idea of sartorial bravery is a red scarf, then look away now. Most of the clothes that evening, had spunk and identity. They are not about playing safe with yet another ‘little black dress’ although there were plenty of ‘little black dresses’ but these had ‘character’.
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That evening we didn’t see fashion based on anonymity, on the idea of fitting in, nor standing out; fashion which is immune to expiry. But fashion to make our wardrobe more interesting and ready to take on the world.
And we have to remember that even ageless style is constantly in flux.
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This season the designers decided to spin the colour wheel to enliven cold-weather days. Not the sort of colours to sizzle the retina but colours which will force us to get away from a black wardrobe; clothes that are not about playing safe for the next six months but of enjoying clothes in flattering colours and with Latin flair.
Evening wear had lashings of sequins, glinting brocades. Really festive.There were paunchy party dresses. You know, abbreviated up to here and sparkly all over. Now there is one thing about minis, you simply cannot hide a ladder in your tights.
Each model gave us a dozen ideas to propel our wardrobe into the new season.
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On these occasions I always get back home, renewing my promise to myself to return to my diet and wishing I could spirit away my clothes to some charity shop and start anew. All wishful thinking of course.
But there was one message to all guests, that evening: attune yourselves to be noticed and ready to shine this season.
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There is no doubt that putting together such a fashion show is a daunting task. The venue, the reception, all those models, the clothes and accessories, the invitations – and one never knows how many are going to turn up. Many turned up that evening, even if getting to Verdala at present is not easy with the direct road uprooted to make way for a better one.
So Graziella Galdes has my admiration for undertaking this mammoth task and very successfully too, for the Community Chest Fund. What could be a more worthy cause?