PRADA
THE ultimate spectacle of Milan Fashion Week - with none of the glitter of Armani, raw sex appeal of Dolce & Gabbana or Gucci fashion gastronomy, it's the hardest show to get tickets to, the raw answer to why Italian fashion is in the lead – and more succinctly, a seasonal clue to what's coming up next. Whatever she does, Miuccia Prada does it right - the cash count came in yesterday revealing a sales growth of around £541 million for the first half of this year, so arguing the point is really unnecessary but every season she provides more proof. A ticket for the show is such a status symbol that the aggression between sharp-elbowed audience members trying to struggle past the ticket-scanning bouncers is worse than at any night club - but once seats are taken the atmosphere is more friendly - equalised as we are by the knowledge that Prada is about to show us the fashion way. Which is? A mystical, enchanted world - introduced by projections, on the walls of the circular Via Fogazzaro venue, of nymphs and mermaids among fronds of multicoloured plants – a gorgeous, girly underworld that somehow didn't feel altogether happy. After a comparatively difficult show last season, Miuccia was easier on us for spring/summer – silk dresses printed with fairies, their décolletages cut away to a line of tiny buttons coming down from one shoulder and a delicate fan of pleats over the opposite thigh – we didn't have to think too much to enjoy those. However, far from simple, the mood was deeply introspective and, going her own way as ever, Miuccia was exploring a young girl's mind: gold leather full skirted dresses and metallic high heels that made the models walk as if they'd raided mummy's shoe shelf – in full fairy princess daydream mode. As the little girl grew up, the darkness of adolescence overtook her - the soundtrack told us of "little girls dreaming about beautiful deaths" - and what had been pretty took on something a whole lot more disturbing – dark knit leggings with matching tube dresses and cutaway boots had a depressing, post-WWII housewife feel (though obviously these will be the finest silk cashmere versions), and expelled any Thumbelina innocence. As ever with Prada, it is the clever details of the clothes that are as arresting as the storyline behind them: double tongue collars, the contrasting piping around the neckline of a silk tunic – orange around a burgundy and black print, for example - oriental side fastenings and the magical stiffness of an organza skirt. Checks are back – one dress in fuchsia and blue lightened the mood and was easier to wear than the neck-to-ankle skinny belted knits that, if she had her way, Miuccia would have men slithering about in next season, too. As the tune from a musical box span eerily out of control, we were cheered by gorgeous clutch bags appliquéd with the same Prada fairy and the thought that these ideas, or rather a million translations of them, are what we'll be looking out for both on and off the catwalk in the months to come.
THE ultimate spectacle of Milan Fashion Week - with none of the glitter of Armani, raw sex appeal of Dolce & Gabbana or Gucci fashion gastronomy, it's the hardest show to get tickets to, the raw answer to why Italian fashion is in the lead – and more succinctly, a seasonal clue to what's coming up next. Whatever she does, Miuccia Prada does it right - the cash count came in yesterday revealing a sales growth of around £541 million for the first half of this year, so arguing the point is really unnecessary but every season she provides more proof. A ticket for the show is such a status symbol that the aggression between sharp-elbowed audience members trying to struggle past the ticket-scanning bouncers is worse than at any night club - but once seats are taken the atmosphere is more friendly - equalised as we are by the knowledge that Prada is about to show us the fashion way. Which is? A mystical, enchanted world - introduced by projections, on the walls of the circular Via Fogazzaro venue, of nymphs and mermaids among fronds of multicoloured plants – a gorgeous, girly underworld that somehow didn't feel altogether happy. After a comparatively difficult show last season, Miuccia was easier on us for spring/summer – silk dresses printed with fairies, their décolletages cut away to a line of tiny buttons coming down from one shoulder and a delicate fan of pleats over the opposite thigh – we didn't have to think too much to enjoy those. However, far from simple, the mood was deeply introspective and, going her own way as ever, Miuccia was exploring a young girl's mind: gold leather full skirted dresses and metallic high heels that made the models walk as if they'd raided mummy's shoe shelf – in full fairy princess daydream mode. As the little girl grew up, the darkness of adolescence overtook her - the soundtrack told us of "little girls dreaming about beautiful deaths" - and what had been pretty took on something a whole lot more disturbing – dark knit leggings with matching tube dresses and cutaway boots had a depressing, post-WWII housewife feel (though obviously these will be the finest silk cashmere versions), and expelled any Thumbelina innocence. As ever with Prada, it is the clever details of the clothes that are as arresting as the storyline behind them: double tongue collars, the contrasting piping around the neckline of a silk tunic – orange around a burgundy and black print, for example - oriental side fastenings and the magical stiffness of an organza skirt. Checks are back – one dress in fuchsia and blue lightened the mood and was easier to wear than the neck-to-ankle skinny belted knits that, if she had her way, Miuccia would have men slithering about in next season, too. As the tune from a musical box span eerily out of control, we were cheered by gorgeous clutch bags appliquéd with the same Prada fairy and the thought that these ideas, or rather a million translations of them, are what we'll be looking out for both on and off the catwalk in the months to come.