Women on the march in Milan
Lisa Armstrong on fashion’s new mood
For the past month, manifestations of girl power have been making their presence felt on the catwalks of New York, London and even Milan, where Donatella Versace sent out clothes bearing the rallying cry “Equality” and Angela Missoni left a pink beanie, the de facto emblem of modern feminism, on each seat.
Far from retreating into grunge or utility wear – or that other standard response to adversity, showgirl glitz – Milan responded with optimism and thoughtfulness. This is encouraging in a city not always known for either trait. Everywhere designers talked about the need for women to be strong. They’re dressing them in red, power shoulders, voluminous layers, trouser-suits, corduroy and, because contemporary emancipation comes in all guises, frills.
Whatever form it takes, Milanese girl – or maybe we should call it woman – power, is always, recognisably, female. Whatever lengths (mostly long), whatever shades (next winter’s spectrum is a comforting, energising stew of sweet potato reds, turnip yellow, tomato reds and gravy browns), the waist is back where it belongs – midway between bust and upper thigh, and lovingly emphasised with belts, ties and paper-bag-like folds.
In mood terms, this feels remarkably like those American Vogue shoots from the Seventies, when swishy-haired models bestrode those double-page spreads in fluid, practical clothes that wore their sexiness lightly because the bigger consideration was always: did it feel good?
There are nods to the Forties, Sixties, Seventies and Eighties. Lorenzo di Serafino managed to reference almost all of them at Philosophy, where he began with a love note, or more of a short Post-it, to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof before segueing into mods, rockabillies and the endearing cheesiness of Pepsi and Shirlie’s girliebut-gobby Club Tropicana moment. But there is plenty of invention, too.
At Ferragamo, Fulvio Rigoni, head of its womenswear, enthused about the stretch fabrics that made an evening tuxedo as forgiving as a cardigan and the way noble fibres such as cashmere and silk cady were bonded with technical fabrics.
“I wanted to make clothes fall differently on the body,” he said of
‘Heels are low enough to run in, but high enough for a bit of swagger’
his sleek, modern but classic collections, where versatility was a hallmark. One neoprene animal print trench, for instance, came with a teeny detachable capelet and sleeves – a neat idea that clothes at these prices can afford to offer. Even better, how clothes work with the body, rather than the other way round, has finally come to the forefront of designers’ minds here. That includes shoes. Heels are low enough to run in, but high enough for a bit of swagger. There’s almost no nudity. There are even signs that last season’s interest in older models is not merely a passing fad. Dolce & Gabbana’s 117 looks were modelled by “real” people of all ages, shapes and ethnicities – singers, vloggers, stylists, clients... we’re definitely entering a new era, and no one has the definitive road-map of how best to reach the customer and even which customers to target.
At Marni, former creative director Consuelo Castiglioni has been replaced by Francesco Risso, previously a designer at Prada who transplanted some of the latter’s subversive ideas (bras as outerwear) and her predilection for exaggeratedly proportioned Sixties skirt suits. The Marni customer is in for a jolt.
If you wanted to compile a list of considerations for your autumn spend, Milan is always a good place to look for pointers: a slightly oversized double breasted blazer, an animal print coat, something scarlet, several pairs of high waisted trousers with the new pleated or fold-down waistbands would all be on our list.
So too this – the womanly cocktail dress, one of the most potent power-pieces in the female wardrobe. These too have made a comeback in Milan, where there is no more pretending that dressing up isn’t fun or that making an effort is somehow uncool.
Bottega’s were among the best: not slutty, not prissy, nor princessy, but a perfect coalition of strength and beauty.
These were trans-age, trans-era dresses that you could imagine Joan Crawford, Joan Smalls, or Joan Didion delighting in. Us too, for that matter.
Long may this assertive, courageous Forties silhouette reign.