And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Our knights in shining Prada. This was Surreal Classic, and so Miuccia Prada took us into the grand hall of the Deposito, where a imaginary piazzas stood. A convoy of beating red portals lined the space in which an abstract statue of a man on his horse stood elevated as the centrepiece. It was an afternoon in Autumn on this fine day in the Pradasphere, and so Miuccia’s men emerged from their portals, another realm of the sphere. They came forth in sleeveless printed shirts with hot pops of colour on ties that all peeked out from under soft sweater vests, a tailored trouser and a chunky shining shoe, marching to hypnotic beats that transitioned brilliantly into orchestral strings. The Prada man may be on a mission but he does it with serious elegance. Suits were simply beautiful, three-pieced and in the Prada colourwheel of deep, rich greens, soft camels, wintery greys and heart racing reds. Pants were tucked into leather boots, corduroy jackets swished long and the Prada logo was slapped onto their hearts like badges of honour, as well as wordlessly worked onto pocket openings. Lab-like coats were study, strong, duffles secured with toggles, glasses tinted and chunky, and bags became bigger, better, bolder, bowling. Hypnotic prints created Prada pyjamas and morphed into kaleidoscopic, knitted onto the perfect winter jumpers. One must always have a new Prada knit for the season. Backstage, Mrs Prada said, in all her wisdom: “In the big… complication of the current time between the world going wrong or going better, the discussion on sexes, on surviving or not… I thought to give an indication that the only thing that makes me calm and optimistic is to give value to work… to give value to things that matter in your life and your work.” She always knows what to say and create to make us feel better.
by Roxy Lola