Nobody does it better, or to put it another way, nobody does Tom Ford like Tom Ford. It’s a unique gift. It might not be to everyone’s taste, but like some sort of weird vortex it sucks you into its heart every time. There’s something mesmerising about clothes that scream wealth. Insane wealth. Like Ellen Barkin squatting on the street dressed in fur with a Birkin by her feet. Watching them walk down a runway is almost hypnotic. It’s like that scene in The Jungle Book, where Kaa hypnotises Mowgli before trying to eat him. But with sequins and minus the cannibalism. And so, onto the clothes, what did these tributes to glitz and glamour look like? Think of an elegant, grown up, lady discotheque attendee slash lady sleuth. Jane Fonda in Klute. Coats were patch worked shiny leather, trimmed with fur, fuchsia in one case, and lined with leopard. Skirts were tight and came in the pencil variety and dresses were long, in velvet and sequins, and clingy. A sort of shimmering column of light reflective fabric not dissimilar to a ripple of water on a lake. As we said, hypnotic. And oddly mesmerising. A Dynasty for our times. Well, nobody watches TV anymore. We need to get our kicks from somewhere.
Photographs courtesy of Tom Ford