Sigh. Another murder in the fashion industry:
Does anyone remember the divinity that were Ungaro's designs in the 1980s and 1990s? Let me refresh your memory. Untouchable fabrics; fantastic floral prints; vibrant colors. Beautiful ball gowns that could hold their own against Lacroix, Versace, Valentino, Dior.
And now . . . Firecrotch? For reals? Jeez. Fashion aside, could there be a worse role model? A chain-smoking, ana coke head? (I'm not saying alleged coke head because, yes, I have witnesses.)
I guess this is what happens when you sell your fashion company to an "Internet tycoon."
Something very strange is happening out there people—editors in chief are now movie stars and movie stars are "artistic advisers."
I think Seinfeld's bizarro world has finally come to fruition.