I really never thought I'd lose my cool over the Versace for H&M collection. And now I say this like one half of a smarmy couple, holding hands across the table and retelling their dinner guests a 'Benedict and Beatrice' tale of the love that wasn't meant to be. When the collaboration was announced last year I took it in, but wasn't too affected, I was born too late to appreciate the Gianni heydays and have never been someone that into 'gloss' which is how I've always viewed Versace; gloss and gold and things outside of my domain. However Donatella threw a serious curveball by including a smattering of palm prints in the collection. And not just any old palm, not a hawaiian print, but one of those luscious House of Holland types, very particular and tropical with wide leaves that nod to Henri Rousseau and wave to Balenciaga S/S 2003. I've been unashamedly slobbering over such a print for a while and with no luck to be had on eBay or Etsy which is why when I actually had a little look through the Versace for H&M collection I was happy indeed and plumped for the tank and pleated skirt.
The parcel arrived this afternoon and my flatmate looked at me blankly while I stammered and ripped at the packaging before returning to Toby making some terribly inspiring point in a moral monologue on The West Wing. (Nanon watches West Wing so much that sometimes she'll make an excellent contribution in a seminar and then cringe upon realising that it came word-for-word from the lips of President Bartlett.) I scurried to my room. I've quickly assigned a 'favourite' title to the top which surprised me by being gorgeous and smooth and made 90% from merino wool and 10% from cashmere (ooh) as opposed to a plain stretchy jersey which I'd just assumed it would be. The skirt is also lovely with the tiny little gold clamps clinging onto the edge of each pleat and the absolutely brilliant crocodile print on the back of the skirt which was also completely unexpected. Overenthusiastic excitement over, I'm off to lounge beside a palm. While eating parma ham. And listening to Robert Palmer.