Valentino: The man for whom fashion was joy

Fashion designer Valentino Garavani once said, “I only know how to make a dress, decorate a house, and entertain.” And boy, did he do it to perfection. Of course, if anyone said this today, they would be endlessly trolled. But that was a different time. And it seems like the inevitable tsunami of age is wiping the slate of history clean of its most spectacular players of that generation: Valentino, Giorgio Armani, (French designer) Jacqueline de Ribes, and many more.

Once, there was a ‘pace’ for perfection: less was made, more was considered, and everything endured. Valentino was one of its last bastions, a designer from a legacy of refined elegance. The idea of beauty and elegance did not change in this gilded world; hemlines could go anywhere, but the codes represented remained intact. They understood the symbolism and luxury of it all. No logos needed, thank you! That was vulgar, tasteless and nouveau. After all, as Minal Modi (wife of former IPL chairman Lalit Modi) once said, “My hand, and not the logo, will tell me if a bag is luxury when I slip it in. It knows what makes the cut.”

It is in this world that Valentino lived and flourished. Schooled in Paris, the Italian became one of its pillars. He started his brand with businessman Giancarlo Giammetti, who became his partner in every way, and they nourished it long past the end of their personal relationship. That, I found amazing. It spoke of the finest value system: honour, regard, and respect.

Impeccable, but classical

I was staying at a friend’s penthouse in Manhattan this past summer, directly opposite Giammetti’s, and we went across to take a look at it. It could have been done by Valentino; their taste had become one. (In his five homes, you would see Chinese antiques on leopard print carpets, walls done in horn, and he had more than 130 extravagant dinner sets.) It was exquisite, Italian and modern. Valentino loved beauty.

That is what he stood for. Much as we look at Italy and think of Rococo and Baroque, great Italian style has been modern, synthesising many worlds with functionality.

I came into the design world by the late ’90s. I grew up in an India that was socialist and did not take the traditional route in, rather sliding sideways, with a father (an Admiral) who was perplexed as to why I wanted to be a tailor. By the time I was conscious of Valentino’s work and attended a few couture shows with (British magazine editor) Isabella Blow, I found it impeccable — the use of his ‘Valentino red’, for instance, was a strong, sexy, modern signature — but too classical.

However, when he decided to retire and hand the mantle over to his former accessory designers Pierpaolo Piccioli and Maria Grazia Chiuri (who later went on to be the creative director at Dior), I found a new magic. Actually, that is when I became a fan of the brand. What Piccioli and Chiuri produced in the last 15 years, together and individually, was spectacular. It honoured all the house codes, but it made them modern. And Valentino was always at the shows, giving them his blessing. He understood the times.

With unexpected lightness

When his mentor passed away last week, my friend Piccioli posted a small ode on Instagram. It says so much in just a few words: “Around me there will be immaculate order, yet I will know that behind such precision lived an unexpected lightness. An almost innocent brilliance, as though every idea were always the first, as though wonder had never faded. That is what made everything possible, and magical. For you, beauty was never a luxury nor an ornament: it was a form of defence, a place of safety, the only one possible. A protection, a shield against the world.

“You were my mentor without ever needing a lectern; you had no need of one. You taught me that fashion is joy, though a profoundly serious kind of joy. You created an eternity, a place made of dream and beauty. There, death does not exist, because it is unnecessary. It is a place that will remain, for me, for everyone, forever.” Valentino also taught him how to make the “most beautiful bows in the world”, Piccioli added.

What more can I add? May we all be so lucky to be inspired to live lives that can have the same qualitative commitment. Even in this, Valentino, the ‘Last Emperor’, left us with an enduring legacy of a life worth emulating. And I am always grateful for that.

Valentino Garavani passed away on January 19 at his home in Rome at the age of 93.

The writer is an Indian couturier renowned for his embroideries, drapes, and corsets.

Published – January 29, 2026 05:43 pm IST