From the magazine

Donatella Versace is the queen of camp, said Lauren Collins in The New Yorker. The sister of famed designer Gianni Versace, murdered outside his Miami home 10 years ago, is frequently imitated by comedians for her husky voice, exaggerated accent—“love” becomes “loaf” and anything she likes is “faabulose”—and her startling appearance. Her hair is straw-colored and stick-straight, her lips are thick and pouty, and her face is a drawn, deeply tanned mask. As for her wardrobe, it would suit any dominatrix, with towering stiletto heels and skintight, monochrome dresses and pantsuits. “But never red!” she says. “That’s Valentino.” Since her brother’s death, Donatella has tried to keep his legacy alive by running the family’s fashion house. The pressure makes her so hyper, she admits, that even yoga couldn’t calm her down. “I don’t have the passion to do yoga, because I keep talking. I never shut up and breathe at all!” A divorced mother of two, she socializes with Elton John and other celebrities, but has no real personal life. “I’m too busy. And then I think, Oh my God, who wants to date me? People have a low perception of me, men especially. They think, This woman, she’s a nightmare.”