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Byline: Sarah Mower
In 1987, in the courtyard of the Louvre, I heard a fashion row break out between two rival journalists as we all filed into a show. They were arguing over Christian Lacroix, man of the moment, whose puffball-skirted, chartreuse and fuchsia, striped and polka-dotted, hearts-and-ribbons vision of leggy Parisian coquettes and Arlesian peasants had just twirled onto the scene. "But don't you understand?" boomed the senior, elaborately coiffured journalist, who was already clad in a Lacroixesque satin tulip skirt and multipatterned peplum jacket. "He has changed the course of fashion!" "Pft!" snorted her crop-haired opponent, a flat-shoed reporter ...