Theresa sent this in as an example of a fauxlero, which it might be, but it's also an example of the kind of dress that makes me wince. It's Cavalli, of course, who is the King of Wince as far as I'm concerned, but I'm sure I would be just as flinchy if it were Calvin Klein.
I know a lot of people love them and that they're sometimes considered kicky and retro and cool, but I just Don't Get animal prints. I feel like they are altogether too much like work; either you have to BE the leopard-print-wearing sexpot implied by your dress, or you have to be constantly elbowing everyone in the metaphorical ribs, saying "Get it? Get it? I'm playing with notions of sexuality (or class, or whatever). Grrr."
Of course, there are scores of things that I don't especially like that many other people enjoy immensely: bananas, Larry David, and the "music" of Rush come immediately to mind. And the number of things that I like that other people can't stand are also legion: the color orange, smelling like a box of Good & Plentys, extremely vulgar and palindromic hip-hop, liverwurst. De gustibus, and all that.
So every time I feel the urge to issue some kind of sartorial fiat, declaring animal prints (or sweatpants with "Juicy" written across the butt, or that godawful David Yurman jewelry) non grata, I think — "Wait a minute, what if someone out there loves lycra tiger stripes as much — or more — than I love liverwurst? Who am I to begrudge them their happiness?" So I don't.