Ladies and Gentlemen!
Welcome to a new old episode of "4ajbukoshka and the Italian". Today there is once again a flashback and it goes to the year 2020, when the world was still so all right that you at least thought 2021 everything would be better.
For those who already know the two Valentinos or are not interested in an anecdote: Essentials to "Uomo Intense" there is in the paragraph above next.
It's 2020 and Tshajbukoshka needs a new handbag, yes: actually needs it, because her (only) one is irreparably broken.
Actually, she wanted to buy a black bag, since black is known to go with everything, but since black, on the other hand, doesn't even make up a tenth of her wardrobe, Tshajbukoshka had thrown her resolutions overboard, even before she had a look at the red handbag with the fancy pattern and studs.
"Valentino? That cheap? That's weird, though. Well, probably has some kind of flaw, but whatever. I like it." - she told the same evening to the Italian, you know: THE Italian, Signor Il Herzensbrecher, who picked her up from work by car and who of course immediately noticed her new handbag and who likewise did not leave the choice of the rest of her outfit without comment. He remained, gentleman through and through, besides charming also highly witty and funny.
You are aware, however, that this bag is the work of the other Valentino?
- What other Valentino? Train station and suitcase stealers!
Signorina, turn up the seat heaters and sit back, because here you get exclusive insights into the fine art of handbags, perfected, how could it be otherwise, by US, US ITALIANS!
- Here we go again? (Only recently he tried to make me believe that the Italians invented coffee, hadn't he reckoned that his pseudo-baristage blather would be refuted with facts and years within seconds) Let's hear it - and feel free to let me know when you're done, Signor Trappatoni.
Well... Valentino Garavani and Mario Valentino share many things: they are Italian, have a knack for fashion, use the Valentino brand name, however.... they're not both happy about it.
Mario Valentino, died before our time (in 1991), you might call him the Banksy of the fashion industry, because he used the Valentino name to fool the ignorant, like the signorina here in my passenger seat, sto cazo, and he succeeded brilliantly.
Valentino Garavani took legal action against it, but lost, because otherwise a certain Mario Valentino, more comparable to a plumber of the same name than to one of the last of the greats, would have taken action. Don't get me wrong, signorina. Mario Valentino makes good bags for the middle class, but Valentino Garavani is una sensazione vivente! This man simply has class!
Class also has this Valentino here.
I let myself be taught: it is the CORRECT, the only true Valentino, Valentino Garavani.
The bottle reminds me personally of the studs of the "Rockstud" (bag), to which there are also the matching shoes, pumps with straps, a dream.
The color, leaning on that of leather, wrongly signals that something dirty, wicked is hiding here? Far from it.
The contents of the bottle are high-end, classy, sweetish, heavy, and as hard to top on a scale of attractiveness as the Italian treat that lands in the passenger seat of his own car later that evening.
He fills the room, not just the car but that (how do you open the windows here?), with his presence, he can't be missed, and you can't help but notice him (and secretly drool at his words).
This man is loud (sometimes he could like turn the volume down a bit, but that's what you get for surrounding yourself with an Italian, haha) and confident.
In the end, however, you just want to cuddle him when he lets himself be carried drunk as a skunk into his own car, where he then falls asleep with a cuddly toy in his arms.
"Valentino Uomo" in its Intense version fits perfectly into the times: a man who can also show his androgynous, soft, sweet and vulnerable side without even thinking of being robbed of his masculinity.
He is just at most at first glance a macho - and the second look is very often worthwhile