“To Me, He Was Almost a Mythical Figure”—Alessandro Michele Remembers Valentino

I always imagined Valentino as a constant presence; I envisioned him in his places, in his home, even though I never truly had a relationship with him and never worked with him. I was the first outsider ever to cross the threshold of his maison, of his home.

We met and spoke only a handful of times. Once, many years ago, we met at some fashion awards. I was standing and chatting with Lana Del Rey, along with others, when he introduced himself in the kindest way; Giancarlo was there as well. Meeting him moved me deeply. To me, he was almost a mythical figure. His gentleness struck me profoundly. He had an almost shy smile, like that of a child. It must have been around 2018. We exchanged just a few words and shook hands, and there’s only one photograph ever taken of the two of us together. I shared it on my Instagram, even though I do not like posting photos with anyone. I am not someone who commemorates mournings on Instagram, as has become customary; this is the first time I have done so. I did it because I believe it was owed to him, and because I believe that, even though we did not truly know one another, he would have been pleased to know that I paid him homage. He was a great figure, a man who accomplished extraordinary things. He became part of Italian mythology, and not only Italian.

I believe he told the story of how Italians are fabulous snake charmers, how we are capable of weaving true enchantments. He himself created a magnificent spell, revealing the splendor of our Italian vision of beauty—the exquisite taste, the beauty of his homes, the magnificent, rare things with which he surrounded himself. Through his work, Italy became a source of wonder and admiration in the world’s understanding of beauty.

Valentino belongs to that pantheon of great Italian figures shaped by an extraordinary moment of creativity in Italy. Through fashion, he achieved what art itself was perhaps unable to accomplish in those years. He and Mr. Armani were giants; without them, we would not exist. I bow before what they built and what they have left us.

While our personal acquaintance was fleeting, I now inhabit his house, and through it I have come to know him more deeply, through the traces he left behind and through the stories of those who still work here and once worked alongside him. From the very first moment I crossed the threshold of his office and the archive, I felt a sense of enchantment. In my own office, I keep a few beautiful objects that once belonged to him, including two rare Chinese potiches. A great art collector with extraordinary taste, he placed Italian sensibility upon a magnificent stage.

He gave precise form to an idea of beauty that defined his era, celebrating femininity by restoring codes rooted in Hollywood classicism. He possessed an extraordinary touch; I believe he imagined women as goddesses. He accomplished remarkable things, and he is one of the very few, alongside Armani, to have sustained such exceptional creative integrity and longevity. They lived through profound shifts in customs, culture, and society. Each of them leaves behind a vast legacy, and an equally vast absence. They stand as founding fathers, bound to the great archetypes of beauty. Their memory must be preserved with gratitude and respect.

Valentino dressed the most beautiful women imaginable: the aristocracy in its entirety, and all of cinema, Rome and Hollywood included, as if one were simply an extension of the other. Among the many marvelous garments preserved in the archive, all of which still retain a vivid presence and a potent aura, I found myself utterly seduced by a dress discovered inside a drawer, like a relic. It truly felt as though I were gazing upon something that might once have belonged to a saint.

It was a dress created for Audrey Hepburn, a client I would have loved to have known. She has always embodied, to me, a rare combination of delicacy, elegance, and intelligence. I believe Valentino made this piece for one of the Rothschild balls: a slender gown from the early 1970s, with tight poppy sleeves, entirely encrusted with crystals. Modest in scale yet monumental in execution, it is delicate, precise, and entirely hand-sewn with absolute mastery. Valentino had the rare ability to tailor garments to women’s bodies with millimetric perfection. The color is exquisitely precious, a luminous composition of crystals with a refined, crystalline clarity. It is a dress of such sophistication that it scarcely appears to be the work of human hands, as though it did not quite belong to this earth. One suspects, instead, a discreet touch of divine intervention. To look at it is almost to encounter Audrey Hepburn herself: the aura remains vividly alive, and for a moment, it feels as though she has just stepped into the room.

This article was originally published on Vogue.com.