Flames flicked out of their heels. Hell yeah they did. Miuccia Prada was on fire. This was one humdinger of a collection. A pussy riot of neon colours, hazy neon night life, a celebration and riot squad of women at their strongest defined by Mrs Prada’s unerring passion and quest for justice and enlightenment. Surrounded backstage after the show she talked of the rise of fascism and the fight to push against it anyway we can. And so we will rise up with her and storm the citadel in her armour. Although all the fierce was framed by the darkly pretty layers of iridescent chiffon, mobile and framed by the incredible giant neon emojis outside. We were quite literally up in Prada heaven, five floors up in the nearly completed tower at the Fondazione Prada. This is the heart beat of Prada this place is pumping with ideas and energy. Epic. We were all on a high. So the shopping list reads like this: lime green puffa coat; day-glo pink pop popping puffa; hi-lighter heels; a pair of gum boots and gaiters; an identity tag; an emoji emblazoned bag; hot pink sheepskin jacket… All of it. Passion. Mrs Prada has a firm hand shake. She’s a rock. This was her essence. We shook on it.
Photographs by Jason Lloyd-Evans