It was quite brash and rather frivolous, even humourous. Prada’s sibling brand continued to charm

Miu Miu explored vintage looks this season (well, they often do), but somehow the clothes did not appear as if they had been languishing in the Salvation Army and finally seeing the light of day. The ’50s vibe was obvious, so was the lady-like leaning—both aesthetically not new to the brand. But perhaps what was more captivating for us was the palpable fun they seemed to have in assembling the collection and in styling the individual pieces. We liked that towards the second half of the show, the clothes were worn as if in a rush—half undone, without going full dishabille. Even proper jackets were cut to seemingly fall away from the neck, or shrugged on. Or brassieres that seemed to be pulled on hastily and the cardis worn over them just as unthinkingly, suggesting a chatelaine departing a scene of passion before she was caught. Sure, they were styling tricks, but how many brands can use styling so effectively, so wittily, so humorously, without traipsing into the realm of kitsch?

Staged at the circular Palais d’Iéna, in a hall with walls of yellow that was reminiscent of that lemony shade Timothée Chalamet wore to the Oscars earlier this month, the show had no sets to complement the strong storytelling, which, as in recent years, have been about pairing youthful angst with refined femininity. A very young woman can try to look like someone older, while the later may attempt to regain her lost girlhood through seemingly puerile pursuits. There was however no contest of wills (significant in a world of escalating trade wars), just easy crossovers that celebrated feminity without slipping into the domestic diva terrain of desperate duchesses trying to remake themselves by adopting practical uniforms in the rainbow range of beige to reign in kitchens not their own.

There is no negating that Miu Miu has found a formula with their clothes. In fact, Miuccia Prada does not necessarily create challenging designs, but she does challenge one to make the clothes counterpoint the conventional. These need not be based on items that are on their own alien to any wardrobe. Mrs Prada has used the polo shirt, school uniforms, cardigans, jumbled them up and proposed (defined is too dogmatic for Miu Miu) what ‘feminine’ really is. This season, the extreme to that was the use under most of the garments what is known in the ’50s as the ‘bullet bra’—those with conical cups to exaggerate the bustline, which were adopted by Madonna in the ’90s, courtesy of Jean Paul Gaultier. But there was no aggressive feminism here, despite the bra’s noticeable pointiness, just a silhouette that was nostalgic.

Looking back at the past (especially the schoolyard of students and teachers) included calf-high stockings, knee-length skirts (A-line, too), and polo-style pullovers with skewed front opening. These were worn with more grown-up pieces such as waisted jackets, leather outers, and additional cardigans, all made lady-like with handbags swinging from the crook of the arm, where fur stoles hung, too. Just as appreciable were the not-one-look make-up and varied hairstyles, including those ‘salon hair’ coiffed and held in place with—in our mind—Helene Curtis hairspray. The pleasure of a Miu Miu show! It is not how challenging the clothes are, but how they’re able to arouse the imagination and, concurrently, provoke thought and question current views of fashion aesthetics. And, in Paris, within the Art Deco handsomeness of the Palais d’Iéna, they did it again.

Screen shot (top): miumiu/YouTube. Photos: Miu Miu