Playing with fire ain’t no gaaaame, sings the song chosen for the ad with the girl above.
Oh my dear, I hope you’re not too alternative as not to like Roberto Cavalli – or to like him, but not to say it – he was one us, literally one of those Christians, European Christians, Italian specifically who went around with the cross hanging from his neck and a black unbuttoned shirt, but… too sexy – at least in his heart, if not in his body – to stand still, he wanted to keep both: Christianity and Sexiness or… the three of them: Christianity, Vodka and Sexiness. And that’s dangeorus, but it’s fun.
The way he conceived women: tiger-like but delicate, beautiful, he divorced and re-married three times; his women, his models in his magic world were like this: un-reachable lilies showing that the real Feminism was a Utopia and we learnt it, they were like tigers and “in-command” but also very delicate, fragile.
It’s a joke, of course:
I wasn’t able, not even in the best hotels not even at the best weddings, to wear a dress like that, I am the type that the heels are always too high and the bra, I kind of need it always, these superwomen who go around without bra and the breast is not fluffy just the same and they go around on those super-super high heels and they fell not, feet hurt not, perhaps in Mar-A-Lago there’s the cheaper, breast contained by silicone inside version.
But I’ve always appreciated the goddess style, which is a trap if you take it seriously, like the strolling tigers, but movies can be irrational, they can be magical reconstruction of an ideal world somehow, perhaps it empowers women for real. I think all these Italian stylists, fahsion designers they loved women. They made them better than they really are, than we really are, but it doesn’t work perhaps outside of the set, or it works only if you are a Cavalli model and the tiger is stoned.
We lived very rich years, Cavalli was born in 1940 and dies in 2024, he was in his 40ies in the eigthies, he brings with him the idea: we gotta be rich, we gotta be sexy and we gotta be christians. We are no commies:
Well, he was a sinner, but he never denied Jesus, Jesus now has him in his hands.
You can see the biblical snake temptation, this return to the Heaven where there is the snake temptation but not the corruption of the fall yet. He was born into that stock of men, of Italian fashion-industry men, like Versace who was a gay and always said he was a catholic, no matter what and perhaps they were better than you and I.
They probably gave the brand to most of your clothes and shades’ style and you didn’t know it. They created and judged what’s cool and what’s not in the West for years and we were better off, even if many women fell trying to copy the super model’s style of behaviour, like those movies – American – or Cartoons – Japanese – were there are the warrior women and it was so cool, but so unrealistic, the girls who really entered the Army found a totally different reality. I wanted to be a soldier myself and when I saw how bad it was really reading a couple of true Army Magazines’s stories I gave up the very idea, it was horrible, and I say horrible, smelly and too dirty, too like “I don’t really want to get punched”, but the job, the work they did on women for many years these Masters of Feminism it was terrible and amusing at the same time, from the feline delicate tiger in control in command of everything and nothing ehh, to the sexy warrior-girls it was all fake, once they reported that Anna Wintour had to put on Vogue’s cover female air force pilots, but they didn’t look that nice and with her common unmistakable frankness said “Can’t we call models?” but it gave confidence just the same. To the girls at least, and a degree of real freedom, in certain lives a high/very high degree of freedom. To be honest. Then, some people are lucky, some people are not (girls included).
Its a game if you know the rules.
Pale moon rise rise on a darkened day, it starts with a spark and a flame.
Raise up your hand if you want to stay, there is no escape from this game.
Oh oh, oh oh, playing with fire is no game.
