Pack of Cards

Spring is almost upon us, dears, and in that season a young woman's thoughts turn to just one thing: clothes. Who needs love to chase off the winter doldrums when one can indulge in a new wardrobe, or at least a few of those key pieces that brighten up life immeasurably? Still, it is never easy to know what trends one is going to follow. Well do I recall the year I heeded the winter advice of fashion critics and invested in a pair of cashmere leg warmers, only to discover by the end of February just what a faux pas I had made. Luckily, this year, there is no chance of such blunders, since I have been lucky enough to heed the wise words of one who knows about such matters: Brigitte Lefebvre, Middle East representative for Christian Dior. Of course, not all of us can hope for such exclusive advice, but I am feeling generous and will share her tips with you, my dear readers.

Galliano's whimsical concoctions hit the runway

First, two words: Silk Road. Think spices, precious metals, gorgeous textiles and you will not go wrong.

Since he took the artistic helm at the house of Dior, John Galliano has been hailed and derided as a visionary and a madman, the bad boy of fashion and the genius who knows just what to take from the street.

His spring-summer 2002 haute couture collection for Dior signals yet another change in the chameleon's bewildering repertoire: Galliano has placed the techniques of the master craftsman in the service of world culture, proving that, if globalisation is a controversial concept for policy-makers and political analysts, it remains a vibrant source of inspiration for designers and those they clothe.

Fashion, as Brigitte told me, feeds on the world it inhabits, but absorbs and reinterprets events to extract the elements that interest it; so, while all eyes have been fixed upon Central Asia this year, this collection is no exception, but it draws on the traditions of the Orient at large rather than the horrors of war: rich spices and precious textiles, Eastern folklore from Japan to China, from the furthest Mongolian steppes to the splendours of Saint Petersburg. The glimpses I had of the new creations put me in mind of an ebullient night under the big top or an evening with the ethereal dancers of the Russian ballet. Accessories include the vivid hats of the Cossacks, boots that could have shod the Abominable Snowman, wigs woven of knitted strands and -- if only I did not feel so sorry for the creatures that supplied the pelts -- huge fur handbags.

Poring over the pictures, one feels that the materials shouldn't work together, but somehow do: fitted, embroidered denim; cotton and suede; linen and faille; knits and hand-painted silks; linen again, but this time with sharkskin; diaphanous muslin, silk taffeta, velvet panne; the tiny Vichy checks immortalised by Brigitte Bardot, reborn in conjunction with chamois; floral prints and geometric motifs... And everywhere is texture: fabric is ruched, smocked, appliquéd, pleated, trimmed with ostrich feathers and fur, overlaid with sumptuous embroidery and glittering stones, for day and night alike.

Shapes, too, are seen as through a magic telescope that exaggerates certain elements with eliding others. Plays on volume and length permeate the collection. The shoulders of blouson jackets and coats are narrow or, on the contrary, vast and conical, further emphasised by padding or trim that acknowledges the authority of ceremonial military garb. Sleeves are either ample as balloons, or excessively long -- as on a hunting coat, say; there are knitted sheathes, long fluid skirts, smocked tops that underline the bust, jackets that incorporate basques, tutus and Harlequin cloaks. Sheathes are set off by little "upside-down" tops with panels like the train of a wedding dress, while evening gowns, cut on the bias, are fluid and sensual as spiders' webs.

Haute couture, as I have come to admit quite against my will, is unaffordable to the vast majority; but the inspiration it offers filters down, dears. What remains exclusive, and truly inimitable, is the attention to every last detail that only an atelier of skilled artisans can supply -- and this, ultimately, is the essence of couture.

Top, l-r: Mrs Guindy; Yasmeen; Sharif; Abdel-Aziz; Guindy. Above, l-r: Elwi; Ghadban; El-Choubachi; Amin; El-Amir photos: Fouad Borhan

My good friend Cherif El-Choubachi, undersecretary for foreign relations at the Ministry of Culture after serving as Al- Ahram correspondent in Paris for 20 years, has now been nominated president of the Cairo International Film Festival, and to celebrate, veteran journalist Mary Ghadban gave a lavish reception. Trawling the room, I felt immersed in a visual who's who in Egyptian cinema. The unparalleled Omar Sharif was there, as were other stars in the galaxy of film: Nour El-Sherif, Poussy, Lubna Abdel-Aziz (whose scintillating bons mots are always such a joy to read on this very page), Mervat Amin, Laila Elwi (looking slim and fabulous -- what is her weight loss secret?), Samira Ahmed, Ilham Shahin, Nelly, Libliba, Mahmoud Hemeida... From the other side of the camera came Galal El-Sharqawi, Mamdouh El-Leithi and Samir Seif -- the latter accompanied by his lovely wife Ninette.

A surprise awaited Omar Sharif on his arrival: there were two of his leading ladies, Lubna Abdel-Aziz, from Ramses Naguib's Gharam Al-Asyad (The Masters' Love), and Mervat Amin, from Hani Lashin's Al-Aragoz (The Puppeteer).

Among the representatives of the media, I noticed our very own Editor-in-Chief Hosny Guindy with his wonderful wife Moushira and their talented daughter Yasmeen, freshly graduated from AUC; Khaled Bakir, editor of Le Progrès Egyptien; Ragaa El-Naqqash, editor of Al-Kawakib; Mona Serag, associate editor of Kull Al-Nas; Ayman El-Amir, former head of communications at the United Nations; and budding journalist Laila Marei.

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