The Black Narcissus


The fundamental aesthetic of Milano fashion maestro Giorgio Armani has always been a form of stratospheric normalcy; an incontrovertible elegance and simplicity that most of us mere mortals could never even hope (or in my case, want) to achieve, with its unfussed, seamless drapery and cut; its perfection; its conservatism. Look at any Armani show in the haute couture season, and he is invariably the least daring creator, particularly when compared to the more ‘out there’ designers of France, the UK, or Japan who seem, often, to push the boundaries of weirdity and alien unwearability to fiercely artistic, but sometimes unintentionally comic, effect.

The thing about Armani is that his clothes, even at the very top of his range, are always, ultimately, wearable. And the same thing can be said for his perfumes. While La Femme Bleue, which I have never smelled but have some kind of weird…

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