by Timothy Hagy
Photos by Yannis Vlamos
 PARIS, July 7, 2006 - Valentino, who came by his name because his mother was an ardent fan of 20s iconic film star Rudolph Valentino, has always had a taste for the good life. When guests arrive on his yacht off Sardinia, no whim is left unattended, and the same could be said for the black tie dinner held to celebrate his Légion d’Honneur on Thursday night in his château outside Paris. His clothes are simply a reflection of the same milieu - they are designed for the rich and the famous, the sparkling woman who likes to shine in the limelight.
It may take assistants to push an increasingly befuddled Valentino out onto the catwalk for his victory lap, but his basic recipe has never changed. His signature crimson flounced in the blossom-like tiers of pleated crêpe, his majestic plum and apple-green tulle rippled and spiraled in overlays, his damask silk prints floated along in breezy trains. Inspired by Russia, his couture show held on Wednesday evening at the Trocadéro offered any number of sable-trimmed delicacies to add to the basic vocabulary. The beauty of couture is its ephemeral quality - that’s the world of dreams where all of Valentino’s oeuvre belongs.
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