There’s no I in Commentary.
It is one of the main pillars of journalism (yes, including, fashion journalism): One is to produce equal, measured, balanced reviews that YES are fair but that are also an elaboration of the writer’s original standpoint.
But since this is going on Lujon and Lujon is not an equal, measured, balanced magazine, today I am going to happily dismiss everything that I should stand for and pen a very personal love letter to Prada’s Fall Winter 2007 collection.
It was, if I remember correctly, Miuccia Prada’s contemplations on a mountaineering woman of the 21st Century: An acknowledgment that on its own could conjure images of pragmatic athleisure or even of a naturalistic wholesomeness of some sort.
Except it does not.
To this day, it is one of the most urbane (if not just plain Milanese) collections the designer has put in her legendary portfolio and its narrative seems to unravel only within the confinements of the modern metropolis:
As per the usual there are winks to neorealist daywear ensembles, like good-mannered twin-sets and mannish overcoats in a neutral palette. Looking closer, the slouched back on some of the silhouettes will echo 1920’s cocoon coats a la Poiret, while some others might even boast a resonance with classic Balenciaga couture shapes. The shoes, a straight link to the Ferragamo of yesteryear. It is all as if the only remnant of what might have been the starting point are those bonkers footless socks in block colours and beanies in roughed wool. The name of the game in this collection, however, is texture and fabric development paired with intransigently clunky embellishments: feathers and plastic lozenges sown with acid orange and degradé knits. A manic flapper with a taste for plasticised mohair roaming the streets of the city.
But enough with formal reviewing, my point is this collection was hitting the shops ten years ago. And, a bonafide fashion miracle, did not age a single day.
In fact, one can see its reverberation throughout Ms. Prada’s oeuvre of the past decade all the way to the primitive finishes of this year’s Fall offering (feathers and faux-naive embellishments for a restless anarcho-bourgeoisie). Even when propped up against all the other shows that came out as part of the same season, there is something insatiably new about this collection, and it is so so so easy to see this being featured on magazines today alongside all things that are modern and current and contemporary.
Although modernity has never been our forte here at The Lujon Magazine, we would gladly quit the rat-race of fashion week just to bask in the illuminating glory of this collection until the end of time, forever modern, forever chic and forever manic flapper roaming the city.
Nota Bene: Looking back at the show, there is not a single iPhone on sight. Good old times.
By Matteo Sarti