A year ago, while in Los Angeles to interview Mr. Ford about his life after Gucci, I said he ought to forget about directing feature films and instead make high-class porn movies with the sparkling dialogue of Billy Wilder. My thought was that Mr. Ford, with his clear aesthetic and record at Gucci, was just the person to legitimize porn (or at least take the grime off it) and that women would watch something that blended explicit sex with great clothes and sophisticated humor.