No contemporary designer has more directly addressed the demand for sexy, colourful clothes. Gianni Versace's daring use of print, decoration and super-charged hues followed, of course, a proud Italian tradition. Like the Florentine nobleman Emilio Pucci, who first put Italy on the map of modern fashion back in the fifties and sixties, Versace used the human form as a canvas. But quite uniquely, the lean, sculptural, body-conscious silhouettes of Versace's clothes celebrated every sinuous curve.

It was all about sex. And Versace's evening gowns, often cut perilously short or procatively split, became a natural frock choice for that first generation of Amazonian supermodels. Indeed, Versace was the first fashion designer to exploit on his runways the star quality of such names as Linda Evangelista, Christy Turlington, Claudia Schiffer, and Naomi Campbell.

His shows, each bigger and more lavish than the previous season's extravaganza, became theatrical cavalcades in which the most exuberant clothes in high fashion were modelled by these glossy magazine coverstars.

The chosen venues were sensational. In the later eighties, Versace would create spectacular show spaces within Milan's huge, characterless exhibition centre. Later, after the acquisition of a fine palazzo, its courtyard would be magically transformed with a temporary roof and raked seating upholstered in vivid baroque prints.

The hard, gutsy glamour and sheer sexual energy which pulsated through Versace's clothes became the basis for a daring new definition of rock chic. And a cavalcade of rock and pop icons as diverse as Madonna, Elton John, Jon Bon Jovi, and the artist formerly known as Prince, all became not just front-row guests but stars of his lavish advertising campaigns. Some even provided exclusive soundtracks for the shows.

Versace was not simply a great designer. More than any other major fashion name of his generation, Versace displayed a special genius when it came to marketing his clothes.

From the very earliest days of his solo career, Versace used star photographers to project the strongest possible image. Penn, Weber and Avedon were each regular collaborators.

The utter glamour of his spectacular shows, carefully orchestrated sightings of celebrities wearing Versace, those boutiques each more splendid than Pompey's most lavish palace . . . all this combined to create an alluring image of decadent luxury.

Perhaps you don't really see so very many Versace clothes worn in the streets of Milan - a city famed for its consumptive practises but stylistic restraint. In fact the battle to dictate fashion tastes on that city's thoroughfares was probably long since won by Versace's great rival, Giorgio Armani. But under an overcast Scottish sky, the appeal of Versace's feel-good, high-octane colour palette is understandable. Like all great fashion designers, Versace could bring fantasies to life. Ordinary men might not necessarily possess the muscle definition of those tanned beefcake models. But Versace's sculptural tailoring really could transform the most unexceptional physique.

Likewise, although few woman share Naomi Campbell's heavenly curves, a Versace dress could truly make the best of all available physical material.

His clothes were never suited to society's shrinking violets. They were rarely discreet. But they brought a strong hint of star quality to any man or woman able to muster the necessary bravura to wear them.

Throughout his work parallels have been drawn between Versace and Renaissance princes. Commentators have viewed the creative synergies which he forged with rock icons, supermodels, and photographers as an equivalent of sixteenth-century cultural patronage.

Versace could be witty on the runway. For example, his final Atelier collection - shown last Sunday evening in Paris - provided a spin on eighties power dressing. And back in 1991, he transfixed his audience with a thoroughly modern take on the art of beaded embroidery, replicating a patchwork of Vogue magazine covers.

He had specialised in leather design during the mid-seventies, while working for the Italian label Complice. And leather remained an important raw material in the Versace repertoire. His womenswear collection for the upcoming autumn season featured glossy nappa tamed into tuxedo jackets - partnered with severely abbreviated mini-skirts.

Themes from ancient cultures pervaded his work. Evening gowns might be inspired by the draperies of Grecian dress, or short and to the point like a latterday remake of the Roman toga. One season's footwear was based on the gladiator sandal, transformed into strips of fine black leather pinned together with the golden Medusa head which became his instantly recognised stylistic signature.

Medusa heads sprouted forth from costly handbags. They articulated the shoulder straps on those slender sheath dresses favoured by Diana, Princess of Wales . . . and decorated the safety pins which only just held Liz Hurley's curvaceous frame inside that famous black frock.

Soon these same Medusa motifs will grace the interior of discerning make-up bags. For the latest addition to the world of Versace is a beauty line, set to touch down in Scotland during August. And touch down, it still most certainly will. For the grim gothic tragedy of the designer's murder will not be allowed to diminish the colossal, multi-million dollar Versace business.

Gianni's sister, Donatella, has already been made responsible for designing two of Versace's secondary lines - Versus and Istante. Her efforts seem to temper the established spirit of Versace with a heightened sensibility towards what is happening in youth culture.

Long known as her brother's muse, it seems very likely that Donatella will now succeed him at the artistic helm of the whole Versace empire.