Even as a child she was thrown on the trash, between tulle and rubbish, but crawls out of it with determination.

As an adult, she then has to clean the tiles in London's most beautiful fashion house and let a manager with an Ilja Richter hairstyle step on her hand in the green rubber glove.

Her name is Estella, but a stronger one named Cruella lives in her.

What does she want?

Black platform lacquer boots, gold ties and a white cape made of sighs.

The stars she looks up to from the dirt are called Mary Quant and Coco Chanel.

In Craig Gillespie's film "Cruella" she tells her own story and doesn't shamefully leave the birth of her art out of the spirit of petty crime: "I designed fabulous disguises."

Dietmar Dath

Editor in the features section.

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    Because disguises for break-ins and thefts (from the heart, looks, etc.) are the prototypes of all the oversized Op Art sweaters, biting leather goods, torn paisley jackets and evening dresses with coral collars, which are why people so like to faint under the catwalk. But “Cruella” is about more: clothes as the sound of waves in the soul, spray on the ocean of emotions. With the liquor carafe in hand, the tired cleaning lady Estella shuffles through the fashion house, which has been x-rayed by the camera at angles, and destroys it, that is: as Cruella, she designs a shop window that destroys style history. Enter: the Baroness, played by Emma Thompson, who, all a design dragon, rushes onto the scene and grabs the crazy child to nourish it with her poison.The rest of the film is a hell of a duel between the two Emma's, atrid tragedy and matricide joke rolled into one. The old woman scratches the boy's arm with a tailor's knife and shows her staff the blood: So you have to choose colors!

    The character Cruella de Vil entered cinema history sixty years ago, when the giant butterfly “pop culture” was still a jazz-obsessed beatnik caterpillar or a rumbling rock 'n' roll cocoon. In the Disney cartoon “101 Dalmatians”, Cruella prefers self-portrayal (“I want a white fur coat with black dots”) to morality (“You shouldn't kill cute puppies”) and thus becomes the avant-garde of a consumer-hedonistic youth and mass culture that prefers was to be enforced worldwide primarily through television (the box plays a treacherous role in the film, its characters already gawk as much as the Simpsons later). The work's open stroke has more to do with "New York" cartoons than with Disney classic; Disney's best man Ub Iwerks rightly received a technology Oscar for the animation process,Throwing Cruella and her escort into the world.

    If you watch her cartoon version pounding cigarette ash into other people's tea and tart, you might think she is a harbinger of punk, but that would be a mistake in the drawer. Because the witch, who threatens marital happiness, domestic warmth and keeping pets, has punk behind her as early as 1961, as if she knew that only another mass brand template had to come out. She is closer to post-punk than to proto-punk, more in the London Batcave world with Siouxsie Sioux and the Lords of the New Church than with the Slits or Iggy Pop.