John Galliano is the enfant terrible of the fashion industry. And whatever deviations he takes, he will always be forgiven (at least by me) for his talent, and, I really believe, his deep desire to create beautiful clothes.
For some reason, he seems to be stuck on tarnishing the very women for whom he creates his clothes. His models have strange doll-like make-up at times, some he adorns (!) with moustache-like paint, others walk in heavy fur winter boots while modelling silk floral spring clothes.
Another strange obsession of his is are wispy, dusty veils. These grey head-gear look like they're made of cobwebs from dusty interiors. They look like death at the doorstep.
His obsession with death (and with distorted, doll-like women) almost has a romantic feel to it, of the decadent, violent type.
I can hardly go into what makes Galliano deface (literally) his designs. That is why his work will only remain an inspiration and perhaps this is as lofty a compliment as I can make.
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Everything from the great Valentino, on the other hand, is always for the wearing.