I am completely enraptured by Christian Dior's S/S 2011 Paris show. Seeing a glimpse of these dreamy dresses in someone's magazine on the tube today (yes, I'm one of those annoying people who piggybacks on other peoples' reading material) I felt as though I'd woken with a start from hibernation. It was something about the clash of hazy colours with red lips and the feel of gossamer lightness strapped in by snakeskin that did for me. I felt a jolt. The sort of sensation I had when I first saw Venice or that slightly faint realisation that you've fallen in love. You can't help but be transported. I relished every detail; the shiny coiffured locks; the dusting of antiqued metals; the faded elegance. For me, it's these sorts of images that make fashion so exciting. I can feel the transformative power in Galliano's vision - his ability to make magic, to conjure up a narrative. I'm in this story, and it's heady with perfume, with power and potential. It's New Look meets the 80's meets Dita Von Teese. I love it!
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