My Versace My Choice
It's a vintage Versace haul
To say I’ve been on a Versace “kick” recently would be putting it mildly.
You see, I’ve been known to fixate. Not on anything noble, no, but on grossly materialistic items that, when procured, provide a sense of gratification more fleeting than a gust of cold air emanating from Sephora as you pass it by on a sweltering summer day.
I’m talking about fashion—and not pieces that could be described as “have-forevers,” either. I latch onto statements. What happens is this: I spot one such statement on the runway and proceed to respond as a yappy dog might to the faint creak of a door—attention seized, focus locked, all else seeming to stand still for a brief second before erupting into a state of salivating panic and urgency.
Par exemple: there were the patchwork boots and embellished brocade from Prada SS’15. There was this absolute tease of a dress from Céline SS’15 and my short-lived-but-not-forgotten dalliance with ye olde orange fur muff. I still fiend for Prada’s FW’19 rose bag, and it brings me no joy to say that, at one point, I was in dire need of these Chanel sneakers.
A “kick” doesn’t quite capture what happens to me when I’m under the spell of such pieces. It doesn’t quite capture the severity. No, these are not so much “kicks” as they are… fits of madness? Let’s just say if this were 18th century England, I’d be deemed “unruly” and shipped off to Bedlam. And any moral code I may have once had? She gone—flew the coop. Somewhere off in the hinterlands enjoying a hearty White Russian with my dignity. Did I mention I’m not well?
With regard to Versace, it was the spicy trails of Western leather daddy seasoned throughout the recently-shown FW’25 show—Donatella’s last as creative director, it turned out!—that set me off. I saw them and, as these things tend to go, could feel myself losing my equilibrium, then everything going black for a bit before a single light emerged and I was locked in, tunnel vision-mode, with one goal, one purpose—in this case: to obtain these Western Versace pieces—as all else was reduced to static. I told you I am unwell.
The problem is this collection won’t be in stores for months. But more importantly: even if it were in stores, I lack the financial means. Luckily, these precise pieces are—like Donatella’s best work, if we’re being honest—directly inspired by Gianni Versace’s own designs. And so I’ve plunged head-first into the depths of second-hand vintage Versace, essentially risking death to ferret out the absolute best.
I’ve only bought one thing so far since this craze started, but as God is my witness I think it may just be my greatest vintage find to date.
If I’ve learned anything from this vintage Versace immersion it’s that, yes, I am sick but also sickening at sourcing. Also: how wonderfully varied and diverse Gianni’s work is. There is, quite literally, a mood for all (and some fantastic deals sprinkled in the below edit). P.S. everything is Versace:
There’s Miss S&M…
The sartorial trappings of a baroque hoedown…
A display of campy brights that I will call “Telenovela” drag…
Suits and blazers for when you mean (cunty) business…
Clingy attire fit for a velveteen vamp…
For when you’re feeling ‘80s high-glam with an autumnal twist (niche, yes, but chic)…
Pretty much everything you’ll need when the category is South Beach treat…
And finalement: grunge eleganza extravaganza…
A key component of the above Grunge moment are the accessories—which brings me to my next point.
Gianni Versace was an incredibly talented technical designer—apparently Diana Vreeland once said that she had “never seen anyone drape a dress as artfully or as quickly as Gianni,” which she considered to be “the mark of a true couturier.” (source) But he was a deeply empathetic and generous designer too. His ultimate goal was to empower women, not only with designs that visually command attention, but also by giving them the tools to make these designs their own—to, essentially, have their way with his pieces. Gianni Versace, Tim Blanks wrote in Versace: The Complete Collections, “[had] given women so much choice that it was up to [his customers] how they put together clothes.” As Versace said himself, “I want to create the primary elements but leave the individual to work out how to pair them in their own way.”
The ease with which one can play with their Versace pieces, and make each piece their own, lies in the multitude of accessories Gianni Versace turned out. Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, yes, but also pins and one-off trinkets, little curios, baubles, novelties, chains, charms, and belts—so many belts. The second-hand market has an abundance of these (many quite affordable), which you can use to spice up your Versace pieces OR as a means of dipping your toe into Versace’s gilded pool to test out the waters, see how well it styles with the rest of your wardrobe.
Like what if I told you this skirt didn’t even come with this chain? Because I hate to be that bitch, but it literally did not. I bought it separately and clipped it on.
Versace was practically designed to be draped and garnished in metals. I recommend piling them on profusely like below.
This black wool skirt? Came with one safety pin.
Which honestly made it feel a bit stuffy. I bought two more on second-hand sites—for pennies, frankly—and now feel free to indulge my baser styling instincts (i.e. pair with tattered Prince shirt).
You could do the same, if you feel so inclined. With such a plethora of charms and little pendants available at our fingertips, there’s no reason to stop at safety pins. just be sure you either have a belt, built-in pins, or grommets to hang them from.
The power of a Versace belt to transform an outfit cannot be overstated. I find it pairs well with a pair of hardy jeans or a monochrome look.
Unless you’re looking to turn it out. In which case I advise you to slap them on with abandon. Some ideas to get you started:
Also worth trying? Versace hairpins.
Or (and this is perhaps a bit out-of-pocket for some): swap in a statement button.
And that concludes my Versace spiel.