Welcome to The New Classic, where the past and the present merge, to form a new future.
Once that no one can see coming...
Join Angelo, Vanessa and the rest of the gang three and a half long years after that fateful night.
Lo kept count. V didn't...
Moodlist i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) - Kali Uchis Big Boss (Interlude) - Victoria Monét It's Like That - Mariah Carey featuring Jermaine Dupri and Fatman Scoop fuckwithmeyouknowigotit- JAY Z featuring Rick Ross
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Milan, ITALY 2 days before VEGAS
The podium I stood on allowed me to see the gown in its full glory. And glorious it was.
I first saw Natalia Fedner's work on Instagram. Her name would creep into the tags of looks I was admiring and after such positive reinforcement, I followed, locking her away in my mind for the right occasion.
It was when I saw Doja Cat, rockingthat bikini-skirt set in the You Right Music Video, that I had my right hand woman, India, reach out. The look wasn't the most reshared from the body of work, but to me it was major. Natalia had developed a chainmail that was so exuberant and luxe, adjectives not usually used to describe the material.
It felt... emblematic to a woman like me. A winner from a place where my people were set up to lose. A creation that was much greater than the sum of its parts.
The designer was based in LA, but was overjoyed at her invitation to Milan, where I was currently residing. She had her assistants erect an impromptu studio within the communal area of the Condo I was staying at, ready for final fittings.
Floor to ceiling windows invited light to reflect from the individual metal loops and crystals that made up my dress. In turn, I got the most incredible view of the old city.
The gown I was wearing lived somewhere between the look I just referenced and Rihanna's Iconic Custom Adam Selman dress, immortalised as fashion history on the red carpet of the CFDAs in 2014. Instead of matching separates, it was a full dress, keeping the same silhouette as it's inspiration though. The slit wasn't quite as high as it had been on Doja. This had been a point of contention.
The adjustment wasn't for the sake of my modesty.
Rather, it was due to the fact that this fantastic gown would be paid for by my date, Hassan Bin Salman. Although nowhere near in line to take the throne from his distant cousin Mohammed, Hassan did still have a PR team that gave guidelines for how he could appear in public.
He was already breaking a lot of rules to be on my arm. He couldn't help himself though. The one time I actually agreed to let him escort me to an event, he pulled out every stop to make it happen.
My hair would be styled by the incomparable Alonzo Arnold, flown in from Atlanta, Georgia. The hair for the full lace wig I would be wearing came from the factory I owned in India.
My makeup would be applied by Raoul Alejandre, an underdog, but the creator of the influential "foxy eye" look that graced Alexa Demie's stunning visage. He was in Milan too, working with Valentino on their new beauty line, but agreed to fly back to the US with me after the persuasive rate that Hassan's team offered him.
