I wasn't entirely sure whether to call this one Giambattista Valli or Stop being so serious, fool! The latter was somewhat overcompensating in length for what it lacked in substance; a shift in balance which resulted in the former lifting the silverware. Well, that and the fact that I am searching for some unequivocal answer to whatever unspecified question is causing my expression to be plagued by mindful meditation. Serious.

I like to call this dress The Red Carpet. In fact, I could do with a red carpet occasion to which I could sport this fluffy beefcake. What you can't see in these images is that this ball of joy reaches below the depths of my knobbly knees, past my bony ankles and falls a few inches flat from my un-pedicured talons. A waterfall of unequivocal beauty. Of breath-taking proportions. Of insurmountable impracticality. 

Not what you want from a dress worth an almost incomprehensible five-triple-zero bucks. You'd have to wear it approximately five hundred times for it to retain any strategical purchase value according to the PPW (price-per-wear) theory. And, if you tally up the total sum of events to which I have brandished this exquisite piece of wool - zero - you'd shudder at the very cognition. Mercifully, I got myself quite a bargain rendering the PPW somewhat easier to swallow than if I'd have bought it in season.

See some of this season's best Giambattista Valli pieces online here.

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