Manolo says, here is the Manolo’s latest column for the Express of the Washington Post.
Let us pretend for a brief moment that money is no object for me. What would you recommend in the way of ultra-chic booties for the fall?
Manolo says, oh to live in the world where the money is not the object! Where every morning you could be gently awakened by your ladies maid, O’Brien, Ph.D., quietly clearing her throat as she puts the diamond-encrusted tray containing the civet cat coffee from your hillside estate in Sulawesi down onto the solid platinum table by your carved ivory bed.
You would sit up, take the little sip, and then, eager to start the day, arise, throwing aside the brocaded duvet made from the single piece of natural silk, spun over the course of three years by your own silk worms, laboriously trained by your staff entomologists to work as the team of tiny weavers.
“What to wear, what to wear,” you would ponder as you stood at the entrance of your 17,000 square foot drive-in closet.
“Might I suggest, ma’am,” says O’Brien, pushing in the top drawer of the Louis XIV bombe chest where you keep nothing but the extra buttons that come with your custom-made clothing (and which was actually made by Louis XIV), “that you consider mink.”
“Brilliant idea, Jensen, but white or black?”
“Brown, I should think, ma’am.”
“Make it so, O’Brien,” you shout, and seconds later Dr. O’Brien is bringing you your three-piece, brown mink Galitzine tunic and pant set, the one with the beading at the ankle, not the other one with the subtle stripes.
And if the money were the no object, and you wanted to be wearer of the most au courant, super fantastic booties, then you will need the Scarlett from the Isabel Marant.