Fashion Icon Valentino Garavani Passes Away at 93

Valentino Garavani: The Man Who Turned Elegance Into Eternity

Italy awoke to a quieter dawn with the passing of Valentino Garavani — a man who did not merely dress women, but dressed dreams. Among the first to give voice to the nation’s grief was Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, who captured the collective sentiment in a single, resonant tribute: “Valentino, the undisputed master of style and elegance, and the eternal symbol of Italian haute couture. Today, Italy loses a legend, but his legacy will continue to inspire generations. Thank you for everything.”

For Valentino, fashion was never just a profession; it was a destiny chosen early, almost instinctively. Long before he became synonymous with refinement, before queens, actresses, and first ladies wrapped themselves in his creations, there was a child in Barcelona, sitting spellbound at the opera. He noticed the women — regal, confident, luminous — all dressed in red. That moment stayed with him for life. Red would become his signature, his obsession, the color that came to embody his name.

Born in 1932 in Voghera, a modest town between Milan and Genoa, he was christened Ludovico Clemente Garavani. “Valentino” was the name he gave his dream when he founded his fashion house in Rome in 1959 — a name that would one day echo through palaces, red carpets, and history itself.

At just 17, guided by an unshakeable calling and the faith of his mother, Valentino left for Paris in 1949. She paid for his journey, believing in her son before the world ever did. In Paris, he absorbed the discipline and artistry of couture at the École des Beaux-Arts of the Chambre Syndicale de la Couture Parisienne, then refined his craft under masters like Jean Dèsses and Guy Laroche. When he returned to Italy, the ascent was swift and spectacular. His 1962 runway show at Florence’s Palazzo Pitti was nothing short of a revelation — the birth of a star.

But genius rarely travels alone. In 1960, at a sidewalk café on Via Veneto, Valentino met Giancarlo Giammetti, the man who would become his lifelong partner in vision, work, and soul. Valentino brought imagination and beauty; Giammetti brought structure and strategy. Their romantic relationship lasted 12 years, kept private in an era that demanded silence, but their professional and emotional bond endured for more than four decades. Together, they became inseparable — a dual force at the precise moment Italy was seducing the world through cinema, glamour, and La dolce vita.

Rome in the 1960s was electric. Elizabeth Taylor was filming Cleopatra, and she soon became one of Valentino’s earliest and most influential muses. From her wardrobe, his designs crossed the Atlantic. By the mid-1960s, Valentino was dressing the most powerful women in New York and Los Angeles. Diana Vreeland adored them, famously calling Valentino and Giammetti “The Boys.” New York became home — as did Paris, where they established a presence on Place Vendôme. Andy Warhol’s parties, Hollywood’s elite, European royalty — they were all part of Valentino’s universe.

By 1968, the brand had distilled itself into a single, unmistakable symbol: the “V.” And by then, Valentino was no longer simply a designer — he was an institution. He dressed queens and princesses, icons and legends. Farah Diba wore his design as she fled Iran into exile. Jacqueline Kennedy entrusted him with the clothes she wore for John F. Kennedy’s funeral, and later for her wedding to Aristotle Onassis. From Sophia Loren to Julia Roberts, from Audrey Hepburn to modern Hollywood royalty, his gowns graced history’s most photographed moments. Eight actresses accepted their Oscars wearing Valentino — a record that speaks not just of glamour, but of trust.

It was the world he had always imagined. As a child, he once confessed, he would pretend to be asleep and dream of Judy Garland and Hedy Lamarr floating among Hollywood stars. Beauty, excess, elegance — these were not indulgences to him; they were necessities. “I miss the time when there were no limits to opulence and elegance,” he said after retiring. “Perhaps I left at the right moment.”

In time, Valentino himself became a mythic figure — impeccably groomed, eternally bronzed, eccentric yet precise. He lived in a realm of princely opulence, surrounded by art, beauty, and his beloved, ill-tempered pugs. He hosted legendary parties at his château near Paris and moved through the world with a distance that felt almost celestial. When asked in a 2017 interview whether he traveled by commercial flights, he replied dryly, “Indeed, don’t imagine it.”

He even appeared as himself in The Devil Wears Prada — a god descending briefly into the mortal fashion world. And yet, behind the grandeur was a man acutely aware of his own fragility. “Making clothes was the best choice for me,” he once admitted, “because I’m terrible at everything else.”

Red remained his eternal language — a precise, elusive shade blending cadmium, purple, and carmine. He could barely recall how he created it, only that he searched endlessly until it felt right. For him, red was not aggressive or provocative; it was reassuring. “When you see a woman dressed in red,” he said, “you feel a great sense of relief.”

Valentino and Giammetti

Valentino and Giammetti sold the brand in 1998 for $300 million, but stayed on, watching as fashion slowly transformed into a world driven more by numbers than nuance. By 2007, Valentino stepped away for good. Giammetti later explained why: “It was becoming a world where we were no longer happy. Creativity mattered more to us than money. In the end, Valentino said enough.”

Now, that era has truly ended. Valentino Garavani leaves behind not just a fashion house, but a philosophy — that beauty matters, that elegance is a form of respect, and that dreams, when pursued without compromise, can shape the world.

Italy has lost a legend. But Valentino — in red, in silk, in memory — remains eternal.

Prof Gaurav Mandal is a two-time national awardee and currently teaches fashion at Pearl Academy