Classic, even office-y, looks abounded. And, those colourful scull caps

Initially, we thought Prada was visiting the countryside too, like Fendi. The camera, before the show started, focused on the clear glass (or acrylic?) floor of the runway and the seating area, under which was imitation of nature: a semblance of a brook, gurgling in autumn. But above that massive flat terrarium, models strutted as if off to work at a concrete start-up hub nearby. To make sure, there’s no mistaking the office vibe, guests rested their bodies on what you might sit on in your cubicle, as you read this. It was possibly a fashion start-up since the studied geekiness with touches of vivid and less-so colours would unlikely come to techies in the middle of conquering the world with their latest all-singing-and-dancing apps. Perhaps the black turtlenecks that the late Steve Jobs and then the now-in-jail Elizabeth Holmes might have favoured was representative of Silicon Valley types. Except these weren’t worn with jeans. They were teamed with what could be underwear.

The look was a boy playing his executive dad, but forgetting to get out of his long johns that had a low crotch to boot. To make things dressier—an obliterated trait—in case a boxy, loose-fitting suit was not enough, the kid pulled something from his mum’s wardrobe—a statement belt, definitely those of broad leather links. And to complete the get-up, a skull cap! To be certain, the head wear was not the kippah. Watching the livestream on our PC monitor, we could not really tell if they were a knit head covering (as in a beanie) or if they were, in fact, swimming caps, made of latex or silicon. The colours—vermilion, purple, yellow, chartreuse—certainly suggested so. And the swimming cap could be an apt description, considering that the eyewear, upon close examination, appeared to be lenses of swimming goggles affixed to more traditional tortoise shell frames. The kid, as we could see by now, had quite a flair with accessories.

This could be Prada’s least exciting show in recent years, but no less single-minded in their approach. We saw classic Prada, as in the house taking what they often do well—menswear staples—and then giving them a proportional twist, but, thankfully, no major exaggeration and definitely no skirts. Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons together do not necessarily mean twice the amount of ideas although it could be double the geekiness. But perhaps this suggested that Prada was so comfortable in a space that created that there was, perhaps, no compulsion to dramatically redraw their paper patterns. So the suits, for example, had the roominess and slouchiness that would not equate with those Prada’s accountants may wear to the office. But, ironically, the tie, in its traditional form and length, increasingly an anomaly in menswear, was there, shielding the shirt’s placket, like the glasses sheltering eyes. Could the accoutrements be there to deliberately salute the intellectual male, while others tenaciously celebrate the peacock?

Back to the countryside, Prada’s traipsing into rural terrain proffered the possibility that among urban males, there is the longing for the bucolic, for quieter times, for clothing that augments one’s masculinity or that are ready to embrace inclement weather and unfriendly turf. This was not quite Gopcore; these were the clothing for walking or hunting in vast, private, Pemberley-like estates. While there were the outers for outdoor pursuits that Barbour would not object to, there were also uniform-like coats and attendant head wear that the landed gentry with military (maritime?) or policial aspirations would not object to. Despite the neo-executive smartness and the country-gent layering, there is the oddity of one footwear style. This was supposed to be an autumn/winter collection, but Prada offered backless sandals that were ready for a summer stroll down a promenade. Relaxed do not, as it appeared, need a vacation through the colder or freezing months.

Screen shot (top): prada/YouTube. Photos: Prada