I have, sitting in my closet somewhere, a gold sequined tube top bearing the label Gianfranco Ferré. It’s my disco fantasia top, which means I’ve worn it all of once, when I was feeling uber-fabulous. Since then, it’s been more of a fashion trophy –- that item, begged, borrowed, or stolen, that you love to have, but never wear. It’s made all the more poignant by Ferré’s loss. So, as I read about his lavish funeral in Italy, I say goodbye to the designer, but never to his work.
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I have, sitting in my closet somewhere, a gold sequined tube top bearing the label 
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