60 posts tagged "Milan Fashion Week"
Cintra Wilson reviews Isaac Mizrahi’s new shop (remember, he’s not calling it a store) and ends up reviewing Isaac himself. He’s the “Falstaff of the fashion world,” she writes, which, we think, is a sneaky way of saying he’s lovably loud. [NYT]
Turns out there was no truth to the rumor circulating earlier this week that Rome would replace Milan as the seat of Italy’s fashion shows. In fact, it’s “nonsense!” But Rome may reprise its own fashion show—Donna Sotto Le Stelle (“Woman Under the Stars”)—where a bunch of models would “[teeter] down the Spanish Steps.” Ooh, sounds so fun and dangerous! [WWD]
What with the threesome going on behind him, you may have missed Karl Lagerfeld’s jacket Monday night for his bow after the Chanel show. Apparently it was from Calvin Klein. Does this make Italo Zucchelli the new Hedi Slimane? [WWD]
Former Emanuel Ungaro designer Giambattista Valli weighed in on the house’s latest collection: “An actress ought to be an actress, and a fashion designer ought to be a fashion designer.” We wonder who he means? [FWD]
File under awww. Alexander Wang went to his first Paris show. [WWD]
Finally, now we can gush over MObama’s taste in fashion and art. [NYT]
It seems like just yesterday that I railed against the murky statement of the kitten heel that I saw on midtown tourists all summer long. But, if yesterday in Milan is any evidence, the look may have legs.
Yes, there were some tiny little heels at Marni, including a pair inspired by those navy rubber sandals from Chinatown. But not all was on the down low. Sling-back sandal boots—a seemingly new element to this persistent hybrid—and Mary Jane sandals both had high platforms.
The kitten caboodle continued at Missoni with these braided strappy, straight-outta-Ibiza sandals. Somehow with these, one must ask, why not just make them flat? Even a haute hippie doesn’t really want to mince around on a wee heel.
Dolce & Gabbana’s masculine-feminine journey meant flat velvet slippers and lace-up oxfords and their polar opposite: femme-fatale heels inset with fishnet leather to look like naughty ankle socks. The only kittens here were, of course, the corseted sex kittens who closed the show.
This season’s runway tracks were a schizophrenic medley, veering from hardcore rap and opera to techno and old-school country—occasionally, all in a single show. Here, a selection of Milan’s music to watch clothes by.
Breakout Track: Brenda Lee’s All Alone Am I
The Final Note: Lee’s plaintive and sweet fifties-era croonings were mixed up with rap and classical tunes. Well, you wouldn’t expect a single musical message from Prada, would you?
Breakout Track: Puccini’s Oh Mio Babbino Caro from the 1918 opera Gianni Schicchi
The Final Note:Uplifting and emotional Italian drama that could move you to tears. A moving way to take in the romantic, gauzy parade.
Breakout Track: Jerry Garcia’s Love Scene Improvisations from Zabriskie Point
The Final Note: Garcia’s twangy, free-form guitar came from the NSFW scene from the 1970′s Antonioni film, shown on screens during the runway proceedings. The result? An aptly arty, earthy, and cultish backdrop to Raf Simons’ rough-hewn intellectualism.
Breakout Track: Pianist Maxence Cyrin’s version of Don’t You Want Me?
The Final Note: Eighties pop merged with classical piano. A high-low mix that’s so appropriate for modern wares made with old-school artisanship.
Dolce & Gabbana
Breakout Track: Grace Jones’ remake of Rita Hayworth classic Amado Mio
The Final Note: Neo-Latin romance with an avant-garde edge. Right on point, boys.
Breakout Track:The Gossip’s Heavy Cross
The Final Note: A energetic yet tough pop hit from the band’s latest album. In other words, a soundtrack made for the Gucci girl’s direct, turbo-charged look.
Yesterday in Milan, there was a kind of study in opposites. Bottega Veneta’s (ultrachic) casual walk in the park versus Gucci’s stomp in a vaguely futuristic cityscape.
First, Bottega Veneta. As the Lord of Low-Key Luxe, Tomas Maier has never gone ridiculously Ricci-esque in his footwear. But we take these gently crafty wedges and nearly horizontal platforms as further evidence that we might not be using words like “sick” and “killer” to talk about shoes all that much in seasons to come. (See Exhibit A: Marc Jacobs Spring 2010.) Our own Sarah Mower praised their “sophisticated take on country-peasant craftsmanship.” Hear, hear.
An espadrille might work for the Gucci girl when she’s in hippie mode, but she most certainly wasn’t yesterday. For Spring’s modern motorcycle mama, Frida Giannini did killer—no other word for it— platform sandals, either race-car sleek or with little sporty embellishments. And for the girl who considers herself a latter-day Barbarella: a strap-happy, knee-high sandal boot.
Milan Vukmirovic is a busy guy. These days, the man who helped revolutionize retail as a founder of Colette, and then honed his design chops under Tom Ford and at the helm of Jil Sander, is a triple threat: retailer, editor, and designer. But at Friday night’s opening of Trussardi 1911′s new concept store, Vukmirovic was wearing the latter-most hat as the creative director of the label. (The other two pieces of career millinery turn him into the founder of Miami boutique the Webster and the fashion director of L’Officiel Hommes.) “My baby is Trussardi,” Vukmirovic informed us. “Nicola Trussardi was a real visionary. He was the first in Italy to understand the need for a complete concept lifestyle. He was even the first designer to set up an art foundation.” He added that he was equally happy with the next generation of the house. “Beatrice Trussardi gives me completely free reign,” Vukmirovic said. “And she realizes that you can’t just rely on expensive fashion shows and ad campaigns, that you need to propose a new, special way of living.” That new path is apparently one where you can buy handbags, candles, and pet gear under the same roof. Presumably just for last night, there was also a killer Trussardi shot of toffee and vodka served in a gold-leaf-encrusted glass. It tasted a bit like cough medicine, but in the best way.