At the last round of shows, the star of the Max Mara collection was the classic camel coat. And this season, the Italian label gave us the summer version in sandstone silk, plus lots of other softly tailored pieces in easy silhouettes. Fluid silk cargo pants, tie-front safari jackets and shirt-dresses in neutral shades might have seemed a little dull on the runway, sure, but everyone needs those kinds of pieces in their wardrobe.
The boudoir trend was in full swing at Fendi, where Karl Lagerfeld showed a romantic collection of featherweight sheer layers of silk, tulle and lingerie laces.
Everything looked as if it had been loved--silk tap shorts with frayed edges; blouses with embroidery and lace coming unraveled, tucked into fluffy full skirts.
Even the bags had a kind of sentimentality, covered in interchangeable, vintagey needlepoint pouches. Clever--two bags for the price of one.
It's a fine line between quirky chic and ugly duckling, and this season, Marni designer Consuelo Castiglioni crossed it in the first part of her show, combining blousy tops and shapeless shifts in boudoir peach and blush shades, printed polka dots or checks, with prison stripe black-and-white knit leggings, gray ankle socks and black kitten heel sandals. Not even the playful mismatched print head scarves or flower petal-shaped jewelry could keep the look from being dour.
It was a relief to finally see bright watercolor floral prints come out midway through on easy pants, shift dresses and shirt jackets cinched with striped belts. Flower-pressed tulle also made for an interestingly textured skirt.
Then finally, the sparkle we were all expecting (which had made the fall collection such a standout) arrived in the finale of delicate dresses and tops embroidered with organza-wrapped jewels.
From the unevenness of the collection, it seemed as if Castiglioni was wanting to move on to something new, but hasn't quite figured out what that is yet.
Tommaso Aquilano and Roberto Rimondi are the young guns of the Italian fashion scene, designing their own namesake collection, sold at Saks Fifth Avenue and other stores, in addition to designing Gianfranco Ferré.
Their Aquilano Rimondi collection was an Italian Baroque patchwork of painterly floral prints and gilded brocades in rich shades of pink, lapis blue and emerald green, recalling the rich fabric heritage of Italy.
Theirs is a more-is-more approach to dressing -- short bustier dresses with pouf skirts or oversized bows, elongated safari jackets with jeweled buttons, and print blouses with high, stiff collars. It was a visual feast, so much so that it was difficult to imagine these clothes actually being worn -- except perhaps to a Venetian ball.
In contrast, the designers' collection for Ferré was light as a feather but no less overwrought. The draped, bubble-skirted bustier dress was the star here too, this time in barely-there shades of layered sheer organza, silk gazar and micro-pleated metallic lamé, sculpted into cloud-like volumes. The effect was beautiful, but the models looked as fragile as dandelions.
Both collections seemed to be about woman as ornament. In the future, it would be interesting to see the designers temper their extraordinary workmanship and flair for the dramatic with a little more real-world practicality.
Angela Missoni must have been thinking back to the brand's 1970s heyday when she designed the spring Missoni show staged Sunday in the leafy courtyard of Milan University with students looking on. Between all the brash, 1980s-era bubble skirts and flashy embellishments this season, it was refreshing to see a collection that wasn't trying too hard.
Loose mesh, lace and origami-knits in soothing colors were draped and layered around the body in a seemingly haphazard way. Miniskirts were layered over bodysuits, transparent cropped tank tops over bandeaus, and long cardigans or duster over everything.
It was about piling it on, just as the fall season was, but in a more organic way. (At the show, Margherita Missoni, Angela's daughter and the brand muse, epitomized the carefree look, wearing a knit bodysuit and tube skirt that were quite possibly intentionally worn without a bra or a slip.)
The models' ribbon and chain friendship bracelets, fringed pouch purses and sandals embellished with ankle bracelets could have easily been souvenirs from distant travels.
The show brought to my mind the new bohemians, or Gypset (gypsy jet set), as profiled in Julia Chaplin's recent book--chic global nomads like Jade Jagger and Devendra Banhart. (In New York, Proenza Schouler tapped into the Gypset vibe, too.)
Combined with the postcard-perfect sunny day, it was enough to make me want to ditch Milan and head for the Missoni compound in Sardinia. I'm sure a few of the students felt the same way.
-- Booth Moore
Photo: A look from Missoni's Spring/Summer 2010 women's ready-to-wear runway collection shown during Milan Fashion Week. Photo credit: Peter Stigter and Jonas Gustavsson / For The Times
With so many lingerie layers and boudoir influences on the runways this season, it was only natural for the originators of the look to return with their greatest hits.
Domenico Dolce & Stefano Gabbana went back to their roots, playing their house style icon, the sexy
Sicilian widow, for all she was worth. Peekaboo transparency was a recurring motif. Fishnet layers skimmed the body, and black crosses hung from satin ribbons around the neck. Black lace skirts and dresses swishing fringe were worn over satin bras, slips and corsets, while macrame jackets and straw bags added a folksy touch.
But the best pieces in the show may have been the denim bustier dress and blouson jacket trimmed in black lace--more accessible interpretations of the boudoir trend.
Androgynous suiting was also in the mix, with kinky jodhpur pants and tailored riding jackets finished with flat velvet slippers.
But when it came to the finale, it was time for the models to strip down to their corsets, in an impressive display of Milan's most potent trend this season: seduction.
-- Booth Moore
Photo: Looks from Dolce & Gabbana's Spring/Summer 2010 women's ready-to-wear runway collection during Milan Fashion Week. Photo credit: Peter Stigter and Jonas Gustavsson / For The Times
Designers in Milan are reclaiming the look of the jet set. Like Frida Giannini at Gucci, Peter Dundas went sexy and strong in his second season at Emilio Pucci, with draped minidresses and mini skirts, lace-up corset pants and cropped, leather and snakeskin jackets that had a 1980s North Beach Leather vibe.
This collection was less tricky than Gucci's with a minimum of surface embellishment, save for a sprinkling of sequins here and there, and some Boho fringe. Dundas struck a balance between sporty separates (great tulip-shape pants with gold snaps up the sides), sexy evening wear and covetable Boho accessories.
Where last season he practically ignored the house's signature prints, this season he reinterpreted them in a modern way, blowing them up in size, in some cases infusing them with metallic color, and splashing them on floaty racerback gowns, swimwear and scuba-inspired cropped jackets with peekaboo cutouts.
It all made for a fast-paced, high-impact show that should put Pucci on the path to becoming a new-old "it" brand.
-- Booth Moore
Photo: A look from Emilio Pucci's Spring/Summer 2010 women's RTW runway collection on Saturday during Milan Fashion Week. Photo credit: Peter Stigter and Jonas Gustavsson / For The Times
There is a mini-rebellion being staged in Milan against the hyper-embellished party clothes as anytime clothes formula (splash sequins on anything and it has a better chance of selling), and the start of something cleaner and more authentic. Think of it as fashion detox.
It began with Raf Simons' sexy take on deconstruction at Jil Sander, when he laid bare the whole messy creative process and showed us the passion behind a frayed edge and a slashed skirt. And it continued Saturday at Bottega Veneta, where Tomas Maier was just as carefree, but much more calm.
In the notes, Maier described the collection as "architectural," but "organic" might have been a better word, because the back-to-basics looks seemed to flow into one another. "The clothes are 'blank' until she puts them on,' Maier wrote in the show notes. "Then the shape of her body, her movements, and the color of her shoes, her bag, her jewelry--all these personal characteristics and choices complete the look."
That meant summer clothes with the ease of uniforms in a clean palette of white, ivory and straw. Dresses were not embellished, but instead draped and wrapped with asymmetrical folds at the neckline or at the hips, creating side pockets. Pants and shorts were cut square and roomy, some with folds creating an obi belt effect at the waistlines.
Maier designs in broad strokes. So rather than throwing everything in the junk drawer on a dress, decorative details amounted to a single sculptural frill in a contrasting shade of yolk yellow, fever red or Delft blue.
It wasn't minimalism, but individualism -- letting the woman wear the clothes instead of the clothes wear the woman, and it was a breath of fresh air.
-- Booth Moore
Photo: A look from Bottega Veneta's Spring/Summer 2010 women's RTW collection, shown Saturday during Milan Fashion Week. Photo credit: Peter Stigter and Jonas Gustavsson / For The Times
The sexpot is back at Versace, where Donatella Versace showed a bang-up collection Friday night. With the 1980s revival in full swing, Versace smartly returned to some of her brother Gianni's most iconic design codes, and yet everything felt fresh and modern.
Baroque prints in fluorescent brights were splashed across tight-fitting jersey tops and postage-stamp-sized miniskirts, some with a layer of peekaboo plastic on top. (Start trolling vintage stores for those old Versace Medusa prints now).
Form-fitting jackets in black-and-white optical prints, worn with leggings, were a nod to the collection's "Alice in Wonderland" inspiration, as mentioned in the show notes. (With all the hype surrounding Tim Burton's coming film version, Versace's timing couldn't be better.)
Mini-dresses were seriously body-conscious, detailed with corset lacing, metal mesh or pink triangle leather insets. The show culminated in an impressive tableau of gorgeous gowns in candy-colored chiffon, with metal mesh insets or silvery chain details highlighting every curve.
These clothes were about as bare as you can go, but what saved them from being tacky, or even trashy, was the quality of the workmanship. This was Versace at the top of her game. And later that night, when she hosted an after-show dinner in the garden of her brother's palazzo, you could imagine him smiling down on her.
-- Booth Moore
Photo: Donatella Versace's spring 2010 runway. Credit: Peter Stigter and Jonas Gustavsson / For The Times
At Jil Sander, Raf Simons took the concept of deconstruction that has been creeping into the collections this season (ripping forms apart and putting them back together in a different way), and made it entirely his own.
A clip from Michelangelo Antonioni's 1970 film "Zabriskie Point," picturing a man and a woman in an amorous outdoor romp, set the scene for clothes in various stages of deconstruction. And indeed, some pieces looked as if they could have been ripped and frayed during the throes of passion.
A white sheath with tatters for fringe; a cut-and-paste blazer with pockets standing at attention; a white mesh dress with knit panels tracing every curve -- the clothes were organic, raw, even emotional. But did they work? Yes and no.
It was refreshing to see a designer so unrestrained, letting the whole creative process hang out, as it were. But some things crossed the realm of interesting into weird (he could have used an edit).
Still, there were gems -- a black dress in double-layer organza, slit from the neck to the small of the back; a grainy, cream-colored silk tweed blazer with tattered lapels; a black pencil skirt with petal-like scraps of fabric appliqued on the hips: and a sandstone knit dress with artful oval cutouts winding around the body.
The film only heightened the experience on a steamy Milan night, as people tried to keep their eyes (and their minds) on the clothes.
