ageless

Last week I had the pleasure of meeting the Australian fashion stalwart Carla Zampatti, when we both attended (what was for me) a fairly swanky dinner. I've been pondering the sartorial elements of this little episode ever since.

To set the scene, I was dished up and feeling pretty sweet in this 1960s lilac sheath dress:

And then in glided (glid?) Carla. She was wearing this dress from her Autumn/ Winter 2011 collection:

It is a singular type of woman who, in her late-sixties can dress in such a way, that the only appropriate reaction is, 'dayum son'. And so -can you blame me- I began to feel a little fuddy-duddy standing next to this woman who put the you-know-what in sexagenarian. Her whole look brought to mind the dangerous glamour of Michelle Pfeiffer's Elvira in Scarface.

And then, all in a flash I remembered a 1976 Sydney Morning Herald article I had come across while researching an essay on Australian fashion of the era:

I find the contrast between the Carla I met and the mini-skirt opposing Zampatti totally fascinating in its incongruity. I'd love to know whether she ever came around to mini-skirts. Certainly I warm to the idea of one's taste in fashion becoming more liberal with age.