They were, no doubt, aiming for La Dolce Vita. Instead, the overall effect was closer to La Vida Loca.
he world is well used to Kardashian weddings by now — between them, Kim, Khloe and Kourtney are now on their seventh, if you count Kourtney’s previous two ceremonies to Travis Barker earlier this month.
And when you’re the type of family that have to make these events bigger, flashier, more attention-grabbing and more marketable than the last one, what are you going to do?
Well, bring in the big fashion guns, of course. Kourtney’s Portofino nuptials were staged in front of an ornate Gothic altar and were eye-catching from beginning to end thanks to the styling efforts of Italian design duo Dolce & Gabbana.
Even the most casual fashion follower would recognise the designers’ DNA all over the event. Every single guest, down to nine-year-old flower girl Penelope, was dripping in their distinctive, dramatic, occasionally Gothic, often figure-hugging, couture.
Even the Riva speedboats that ferried guests to and from the lakeside ceremony were furnished with D&G print cushions and towels. It was all very 90s Vogue, if you take away all the forehead licking. The New York Times astutely noted that D&G “turned the weekend into an ad campaign in real time”.
Strangely, the designers once allegedly referred to the Kardashians are “the most cheap people in the world”, in an Instagram comment. But now, they are “friends of the house”.
It’s easy to see what the Kardashians got out of the deal — their megabucks wedding was effectively sponsored by the rich Italians. And according to Launchmetrics, the event earned the designers $254m in media impact value — no surprise, given the billion-odd followers the Kardashians have on social media.
But it’s also worth looking at the long game here. And I’m not sure it looks all that rosy for our two KarBarker-dressing Italians.
Firstly, a great swathe of the great unwashed public held their noses at the wedding, dubbing it tacky, cheap and gaudy. Attention-seeking is rarely anything other than cynical and showbiz followers are long enough in the tooth to recognise a blatantly branded exercise when they see one.
It’ll be interesting to see just how diluting or toxic the KarBarker wedding will turn out to be for the couture house in the long run. Fashion houses and high-grade stars have long been cosy bedfellows, but add in the stars further down the totem pole, no matter how many eyes on them, and things get complicated. Less sleek.
British brand Burberry have had to make a serious effort to rehabilitate their brand after soap stars and WAGs fell upon their signature check items. Soon, the heritage store was the go-to label for those who looked up to the D-list, sounding a death knell for the company’s credibility.
The company’s shares dived by 16pc in 2008. More recently, Kim Kardashian and Cardi B have professed their love for fashion house Louis Vuitton by wearing the brand’s logos head to toe, causing the fashion commentariat to voice concerns that LV might just face similar image problems.
Anyone with a soupcon of style will tell you that less is more. Coco Chanel herself advises people to take off the last accessory they put on before they leave the house. Fashion overkill is very rarely a good thing, with the KarBarker ‘Mafia family chic’ extravaganza being a case in point. And yes, going for full-blown tack in a grab for headlines is a definite fashion crime.
‘Summer legs’ a big step backwards
I saw a disappointing newspaper headline recently: ‘How to get your legs ready for summer.’ Under it was a detailed directive on how to undertake a full-scale limb upgrade by moisturising, sloughing off the effects of winter and adding that all-important ‘glow’.
‘Getting ready for summer’ means having parts of yourself looking especially beautiful and presentable before you even think about subjecting them to the wider world.
My legs are ready for summer, incidentally. They have that odd dryness on the shin that looks a bit like a fine honeycomb. There’s also a boreen of stubble there that I missed while shaving in the shower (I also always miss the backs of my knees).
They’re also looking forward to beach walks, weathering the odd accidental splash of rosé wine, and braced for a panicky dash through the airport.
I’ve counted them, there’s two of them. They work perfectly well. I’m more than ready for summer.
Certainly, there are people who delight in looking good and count the many products needed to achieve glow status as a lovely, healthful indulgence.
Let’s be honest, if you feel like you look well, that’s a really lovely feeling. But what irks me about the whole ‘beach body ready’ narrative is the underlying subtext that this is all somehow mandatory.
If someone is going to be affronted by the fact my legs don’t look like I’m on my way to a casting call for a Gillette Venus advert... well, that’s on them.
Candace Bushnell promoting Sex & The Cougar Town
Sex & The City author Candace Bushnell is reportedly dating a man 42 years her junior — a sprightly 21 to her 63.
He was born in 2001, the year before Bushnell married her first husband.
Perhaps we’re supposed to applaud a woman owning her sexuality, dating whoever she damn well pleases and doing exactly what famous/successful men her age have been doing since time immemorial.
But just as I don’t understand older men dating much, much younger women, I don’t buy this union either. I mean, what in the name of Carrie Bradshaw’s oven do they even talk about?