In Milan, shallow waters, designer islands, and the world of Donatella Versace

Donatella Versace wanted her show to be a celebration of the Versace World. Sounds like a grand statement, but you got it. Versace’s Cuban-tinged collezioni not only felt like a distinct entity from Dolce and Gabbana’s Caprice Espagnole, Neil Barrett’s slick sportswear tinged with Roman classicism, or Stefano Pilati’s serene Ermenegildo Zegna show: it felt a world apart, as did they.

Maybe that’s something to do with the Italian psyche. The country only came into existence in 1861: hence the fact regional accents and attitudes vary wildly. There isn’t only a North-South divide in Italy, but a fragmented national identity with each of the peninsula’s provinces jockeying for prominence. What an echo that finds in the fashion world, in the ferocious competition between rival brands. Montagues and Capulets had nothing on Armani versus Versace in the eighties, or Gucci’s rivalry with Prada a decade later. And each, of course, proposes their own form of national dress.

For the most part. Alongside the mega-wattage shows bolstering the schedule – Prada, Armani, Versace, Gucci, all labels with a global fashion resonance – you’ll find a multitude of lesser-known names, churning out slick but fairly anonymous suiting that all, somehow, identify a single key trend a season – sports! shorts! knits! – and latch onto it for dear life. This season, FYI, it’s a slim trouser cropped at the ankle. Ankles!

If the designers of Milan are islands, these brands (often with named but unremarkable designers at the helm) form a soupy sea of Super 100 wool lapping at the shores. They’re necessary to keep Italian fashion afloat though – they’re all making a killing, quietly. Those conservative suits go down well in China, currently the largest single menswear market in the world. Ask any of them where their best market is, and they’re extolling the virtues of the Chinese consumer before you even reach the end of the sentence. Read more..