Roberto Cavalli

MILAN, March 4, 2002
By Sarah Mower
In the world of Roberto Cavalli, nothing succeeds like excess. The highest heels! The super-est supermodels! More, more, more! The sight of Cindy Crawford and Eva Herzigova throwing curves in tight dresses, pencil-skirted suits and knock-your-eye-out prints brings back the good old eighties Italian-style.

Cavalli's ideal woman is a rock-star's wife, and it's no coincidence that his growing cult following is music business people and good-time girls everywhere who dream of a piece of the arm-candy action. Each show is like the next installment in a so-bad-it's-good soap opera, and this fall we see our heroine in possession of the keys to her first French chateau. Now she's a lady and her idea of dressing the part means slipping into a scarf-print dress or a trompe l'oeil satin blouse with a few fabulous estate jewels printed on the front. For polite cocktails, her little black dress is seamed to outline her very personal assets. Inspired by the neat old brocades in her new home, she's had some cool jeans and jackets made in the same fabric. And for those post-gig parties, she'll knock the competition dead in a brown patent leather vixen suit or maybe that white fur floor-trailing parka with the snakeskin pants. Whatever, the girl's arrived.

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