The new Versace ad campaign

Donatella Versace is known for her opulent, over-the-top, sometimes-slutty-bordering- on-tasteless designs. Just ask Jennifer Lopez. So it makes sense that her ads mirror her tastes. And if you've seen one of her most recent ad campaigns, you'll notice that her format isn't exactly geared to Mr. and Mrs. Joe Schmo. More like Mr. and Mrs. John Gotti.

Donatella Does the Sopranos could be the name of her latest print run. The ads feature men and women (but mostly women) taking ostentation to new levels, sporting piles of noticeable jewelry, stiletto heels, thick eyeliner, unfashionable tans and unsubtle highlight jobs.

If there is a buzzword for these pics, it is extravagance. Each model is poised reclining and relaxing in front of gigantic mansions, Olympic-sized swimming pools, swathed in furs, perching on Porsches, showing that their target audience is a crowd that has a disgusting amount of money and hasn't lifted a finger to earn any of it.

Reader Email "I disagree with your take on the Versace ads..." More ›

That's right. Mafia wives and heiresses. Feeling left out?

It's no big news when fashion advertising shows us an unattainable, sometimes questionable image: when was the last time you identified with a Calvin Klein ad? Donatella, however, could potentially be accused of elitism, perhaps racism. Because, in some of these ads, if you look closely past the mink, wine and landscaping, you might glimpse a few Hispanic-looking models showing some clothes that Donatella probably doesn't sell ready-to-wear: maids' uniforms.

Now, Donatella can be as European and money-loving as she wants: with the return of fur, cashmere, leather, sky-high shoes and designer labels, it appears that wealth-and-label-worship is once again fashionable. But has it ever been fashionable to use the 'help' as a prop in a fashion ad? In one shot, a diamond-dripping brunette glowers at us from a poolside chair as a poolboy in the background, in jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops languidly dangles a skimmer into the swimming pool. In another, the same model holds hands with a little girl in what appears to be a backyard garden party, while a maid in uniform and a stolid bodyguard in black look on. One servant for each person, it seems. In another, an icy blonde sits at the breakfast table in a blue fur as her son eats a sandwich, while a maid places flowers on the table in the background.

Okay, we get the clothes, we get the rich and spoiled look, but do we also have to have the "hire minorities to do the dirty work" look?

Part of this whole theme may stem from the resurgence of the mafia as a pop culture topic. We've got "The Sopranos," which gave us the terms "whacked" and "fugeddaboutit" as everyday phrases, as well as a new supply of gold bangle bracelets, costume jewelry and acrylic nails. Versace adds a nice touch as the houses and greenery in the backgrounds of her ads are undeniably Italian-inspired, decorated with pink stucco, awnings and myriad pieces of little Renaissance-inspired statuary. If you are rich and tasteless, you might as well look the part.

Although these ads are not all that new, they still run in high-end magazines and newspapers, and, in a way, serve as a little time capsule for us, demonstrating what life was like before Sept. 11. Before America had more important things to talk about, practically all we were discussing were high-end fashion and meaningless gossip. In a New York Times Magazine titled "Luxury in Hard Times," (Dec. 2, by Lynn Hirschberg), Tom Ford, the designer for Gucci, says, "The fashion world thrives on irony and bitchiness and meanness. This attack is making people sincere. I'm not sure that will be good for fashion." Does this mean that in the future, ads like these will no longer have a place here, or, on the other hand, will they be welcomed as a respite from dealing with the real world?

One wonders if Donatella Versace approved this campaign because she thinks it is reminiscent of her own personal style. If you examine the blonde models, they sport screamingly peroxided hair, inches of makeup, lots of skin, and piles of jewelry. If you look at a picture of Donatella herself, you may see some similarities, especially the embracing of the gaudy. You haven't seen Donatella in a sweater and jeans lately, have you? Not to make jabs at personal appearance, but Donatella is no model. Even when she hangs out with the likes of Gwyneth Paltrow and Madonna, she still comes out looking like a weird uncle of Cher's.

The Versace ads are definitely colorful and eye-catching, but whether they draw your eyes to the clothing and make you want to buy it is doubtful. Donatella definitely irks you with her blatant snobbishness and un-P.C. materialism, makes you wonder who the hell she thinks she is, and to what snobbish elite she is selling-and, if these days, that elite still has a place in this world. However, I, for one, would be lying if I said that there was not some tiny part of me that wants to be part of that elite, as well.