One can become a designer. And even a talented designer. A talented designer with a billions-size profit to say more. But one can never become a couturier, unless he was born like this. And in that case your life turns into constant hiding besides seamstresses and sails persons backs, couse there is no way you can mix pure art with routine deals. But you still can be happy. Or sad. Or lonely. Or inspired. At the end of the day it all makes no sence, because all people will know about you are your pieces. Better, more actual, more natural than anything created after you.
40 years passed since the death of Christobal Balenciaga, but his pieces still make us breathless. No, there are not any crazy brilliants or exclusive fabrics from an exclusive goats grown up on an exclusive mountain. But there is something above that. That unbelievable clarity and strength. Following his lines is like following parabola or circle bands. There are no drawbacks in geometry! And Balenciaga silhouettes is High geometry!
Some rare and even unique photos of the most enigmatic designer ever are included in the book. And Mary Blume emotional language returnes them into life. And returnes that persuasively, you can hardly prevent yourself from crying about being born too late…
