A couple of months ago, I was idly flitting a night away on the internet when it occurred to me that I should open up Twitter and tweet something that — in my heart, in that moment — was unassailably true:
Bally >>> Gucci
No good story begins with a tweet — or, good lord, an abandoned one — but bear with me. By that point, Gucci fetishism had become parodic and comical. Alessandro Michele’s rebrand had infused the company with flamboyance, joie de vivre, whimsy and sass, but looking at some outfits suggested Ed Hardy’s sophisticated older cousin, Édouard.
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