SHE SAID: "Nobody should look up to celebrities, ever, or do anything we do. We're basically circus freaks." US comedian Roseanne Barr, Popbitch. AND, SHE SAID: "Desperate, unhappy people exhibit genuine pain to be chosen for the honour of televised transformation. Men and women cry as they recall childhood slights and insults. The 'winner' is the one who exhibits the most self-hatred." Columnist Mary C. Curtis, The Charlotte Observer, describing the elimination process for another US cosmetic surgery-driven "makeover" show.

Photo: Cupid dress, $726, Precious halter top, $396, and Enchantment wrap top, $605, State Of Grace. Right: Aegean wrap top, $481, by State Of Grace, Sim-Sim skirt, $1090, by Easton Pearson, Husky Shoulders, $319, by Uberchic by Kirrily Johnston.  Picture: Marina Oliphant

SNAKY GIRL: The sort-of-former-but-not-really supermodel Naomi Campbell is photographed more often these days for social pages than fashion spreads, not least because her beauty is leaner and stronger than it's ever been and she'd look smashing in a sack if she had one. At Cannes for a screening of the Coen brothers' film The Ladykillers this week, she wore white — a startling contrast for her macchiato complexion — and an oddly appropriate snake choker coiled about her swan-like. Glorious. GIVE IT UP: Any one of the 18,000 people not privy to a roof over their head on an average wintry night in Victoria will fondly wrap that old thing around their shivering middle if you don't care to. The St Kilda Crisis Centre is collecting, cleaning and preparing to deliver unwanted winter coats to homeless people — men, women and children — which is, of course, a happy coincidence for those among us lucky enough to have recently bought, or who are preparing to buy, a new one. Last year's coat — or, any old coat, for that matter — can be donated at several locations around Melbourne: the Lygon Court carpark pay booth, 333 Drummond Street, Carlton, the Playbox booking office at The Malthouse, 113 Sturt Street, South Melbourne, Tonic, 13 Martin Street, St Kilda, Reach Youth, 152 Wellington Street, Collingwood, and Mitre Tavern, 5 Bank Place, Melbourne. HOW FRILLING!: Women on towering stilts with hair flying and twisted tiers of red and orange silk frills wildly fluttering, rushed on stage behind Russian fiddler Julian Rachlin, at Vienna's annual Life Ball this week. The event, in aid of an HIV charity, is a magnet and forum for some of Europe's most exotic peacocks and celebrities.

On a visit to the Melbourne Fashion Festival in March, world-renowned retailer of original vintage fashion, Cameron Silver, described his remarkable collection as "more than unique".  That's why they (movie stars) love them; because they're sick of cookie-cutter fashion." Silver's Decades boutiques in the United States are considered the last word in one-off frocks and the only source of red-carpet knockouts where stars, including Nicole Kidman, Chloe Sevigny and Cate Blanchett, are required — and by all accounts, cheerfully willing — to pay full price. (Freebies and frock-loans are the lot of Armani, Versace, Prada, and Dior, et al.) "It's about them," says Silver of his frocks and the Hollywood process. "It's not about some designer getting something on their (stars') backs." Vintage, in other words, is a recognised track through homologous fashion trends (admittedly, more of a problem for wealthy Americans than most of us — but that's another story).  "Anyone can buy a haute couture gown if they've got enough money," says Silver. "But not everyone can have a (vintage original)." His theory is that it takes more effort to find and choose the designer that suits you and, frankly, it's got to be in your size. There's an awful irony here. Red carpet gowns are habitually copied by knock-off specialists. Thousands of replicas can be rushed to discount chain racks within a week. The concept of "unique" quickly becomes problematic. Original gowns lose their "originality" with every wear. Hollywood's "second" owners of original vintage gowns are compelled to neglect them after a single trip down the red carpet, or to abandon to them to charity auctions.

Photo: Vodka dress, $396, by Uberchic by Kirrily Johnston, sequin shrug, $295, by Saba, stretch satin leggings, $275, by Gwendolynne, 1950s cocktail hat, $120, with beaded gloves, $35, from Empire 111, and Le Now earrings, $89.95, by Mimco.
Picture: Marina Oliphant

More original vintage designer gowns must be found to feed increasing numbers of vintage fans (lovers of uniqueness or rarity) but there is, of course, only a finite supply. Little wonder that vintage designs have now evolved into an enduring mainstream fashion trend that shows no sign of waning. The supply is now infinite. The look once sought for being unique, offbeat, exotic and one of a kind, is now replicated in the millions for a complex tapestry of new reasons. One popular theory plots fashion designers' repeated returns to vintage and retro style as proof that they've run out of ideas. Another justifies the proliferation of 1920s, '30s, '40s and '50s styling in mainstream trends as our innate need for "comfort fashion" in a frightening, post-September 11 world. The truth could exist in a combination of both theories, or perhaps fashion has simply paused on the intrinsic beauty of a silk-satin gown that drapes like water, or the classic glamour of a fur stole, or the delicate glint of beads and sequins meticulously hand-stitched on to sheer veil fabrics, into flimsy lace trims and silk-speckled embroidery. Perhaps we just like fashion like that: classic, feminine and heart-stoppingly lovely.  F2NetworkNews.

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