Flower Power.

Bold blooms defined the Dolce & Gabana Spring aesthetic.

The end of Milan's Fashion Week came with a bit of a surprise for this lil' fashion blogger. Dolce & Gabana collections in recent history have not been favorites of mine. With their penchant for overspilling cleavage, ruffles, ruching, loud prints, bright colors, stacked heels, and t-t-t-tight skirts, their wares were a little too tacky for my taste. I know it serves a purpose and has a place in a certain woman's wardrobe, but gaudy doesn't do it for me. However, I always held on to a romantic idea of Dolce & Gabana past. In the '90s the house was a harbinger of a new Italian style. With a bent towards flower prints, flattering silk dresses, and corsetry, their shows combined an old world glamour with a new sexiness that was molto Italiano without the tacky, sticky, spikiness of recent runway shows.

Pretty, but no shrinking violets.

With early '90s nostalgia in full swing, the house hit the target of now so completely. Aside from a few screaming, red, leopard print pieces, most of this season's collection kept a level palette of black, white, and cream and showcased that archival brand of D&G sex appeal that honors women, rather than reverts them to played out roles as mob wives and mistresses.

There were gorgeous floral prints that echoed the old Dolce & Gabana '90s nuveau Italian aesthetic wonderfully. The thing to admire about their floral prints are their strong sense of femininity as power. Where most florals are used in fashion to denote a sweetness, a softness, or a girlishness, the bold blooms on Dolce garments are seductive. They are defiant of their usual connotations. They are stretched across the body in shiny satin or sheer silk in a way that doesn't disarm their wearers, yet rather adds to their toughness in the most delicious way, demanding respect. Flower power indeed.

Lace to the finish.

The lace in the show was similarly seductive and sophisticated. There is always something romantic about lace. It's revealing; it's so evident in its construction, in the work it takes to create its intricate woven patterns. Lace is one of those fabrics that women gravitate towards and that may ebb and flow in popularity but never leaves the realm of chic. It was smart of Dolce & Gabana to lean heavily on lace, and despite it's timelessness as a material, somehow they were able to make it look so fresh. The black pieces were elegant, the white garments were austere yet pretty. This was lace of adult women, not angelic girls. The crocheted knits, the fringed wovens, the webbed netting, it was all so well rendered and pretty. Understated, classic, smart, sexy, fresh. All of those descriptions are equally balanced across this collection.

The menswear element was also right on for the season. Women are suiting up and headed back to work. They are living again in a man's world, appropriating the sartorial cues of power. In boyish bolero suits and pleat front pants, the ladies looked like sexy bull fighters. Like women ready for a charge.

Raffia corsets, woven and structured, were another highlight of the collection. They were so smartly understated. It seems as if a raffia corset would be a superbly unnecessary garment at this particular time, but the rough sexiness of it, the natural element of the material, the whole package makes me want one. So many of the pieces in this collection strike a chord of desire. They are special. They are garments that women will be able to justify purchasing. They are elegant, classic, and again, very special. Those are the keys to sales in a time of restrictive spending. Give the girl (woman, excuse me) something to desire that seems practical and you get the gold card. Simple as that, designers, simple as that.

All photos from Style.com.

Feasting On Scraps.

Another series of raw seams sealed a second superlative for Milan Fashion Week. After Prada's remarkable postcard to sunless beaches of the past (or future?), Raf Simons's collection for Jil Sander played the game of hide-and-seek better than any other in recent memory. The understated sexiness of the collection was a marked difference from the va-va-Versace revival that's hitting the catwalks in other house presentations, but it was infinitely more alluring.

The show opened with straightforward shift dresses making good use of the fabric leftovers they were scissored out of. Scraps of dress material were attached to the opening cream sheath for a minimalist's method of embellishment. There was a black version, and a couple more in sheer or shiny fabrics that floated themselves down the runway.

The shimmering violet and golden version appeared to make it's own light, and was exactly what I would picture a dress made of sunset soaked water vapor would look like. The black net version, austerely adorned with rectangular bits of it's own material, was a darker version of and for night.

The sheer, wide-legged pants that floated under burlap looking jackets were a light and loose version of the slouched, transparent tights that made it onto so many runways back in New York. The jackets themselves, some of which were bisected and melded with a see-through second half, were so sexy. The models were suited up in sheer and the juxtaposition made the visible bodies seem strong and soft at once. Like a real woman at work.

How Simons managed to make a duo of mylar-look dresses appear minimalist is mind boggling, and speaks loudly to his talents as a designer. The woven dresses and tops that hid and revealed skin in a game of show and tell were offset nicely by boxy, big suit jackets, skirts, and shorts that concealed enough to give the show balance.

In fact, the wearability and functionality of many of the pieces was so practical and smart of Simons. It was smart, but not sell-out. None of the pieces felt forced or inserted into the lineup to give the department stores something to sell. Instead, the whole collection remained cohesive despite the strong differences between some of the adjacent looks. Again, this shouts (in a whispered way) design talent.

The tied, knotted, and wrapped dresses that came near the end of the show were fond odes to artist duo Christo and Jeanne-Claude who famously tied up monuments, museums, and buildings throughout their collaborative career. The match of aesthetics is apt. Both the wrapped monuments and the wrapped dresses are revealing and concealing. They conceal their exact complexities and reveal the talents of their makers. Also, the shoes in this show were striking and gorgeous. Wood, iron, and snipped fabric? It all works so well.

Excellent, excellent show.

All photos from Style.com.

Beach Scene.

Miuccia Prada's Spring/Summer 2010 collection was all cut seams and raw hems at first.

The grayish black coats, pants, shorts, and tops that meandered down the black and white runway were pressed flat, with crisp pleats and a sheen. The shapes were deceptively simple in their flatness, giving the clothes a stiff character, but then the backs of the garments slightly draped or jetted away from the models' bodies.

By using circles, squares, rectangles, triangles, and the occasional flourish of a twist, Prada eschewed the overwhelming trend towards flouncy drapery and frilly fuss that's been on every catwalk of late. Then, amidst the heavy, shiny grays a beach scene emerged.

Prints of a hazy, faded, seaside setting relieved the darkness and gave the clothes a pop of paradise. Yet, the sulfurous yellow and smoggy, smoke-colored washes on the prints either aged the scene, making it look like a distant memory, or took some of the carefree levity out of the usual beach ephemera. The blankets, umbrellas, sunbathers, and palm trees are rendered in washed out hues. Prada's prints say maybe we can find a bright landscape again once the clouds pass; but, if they don't pass, then we'll have to make due. We'll have to paint our pouts a bright red hue, muss our hair, and just find a new cool.

The crystal pieces, I'm sure, were much more effective in person. But even without the shimmer and dazzling shine of the chandelier-like wares in the photos, you can tell that the bejeweled shift dresses and bedazzled separates were intended to offer clear light. A sparkly refresher after a hazy sunset.

LOVES IT.

Photos from SHOWstudio.

Wade Through It.

I think the reason that my interest in the endless parade of catwalk shows spanning the globe faded early this season is because in the face of the world-at-large's too little, it's just too much. Not only is the endless coverage too much information period, but the obvious '80's re-hash that is coming again and again down the runways is just too much to look at. Huge shoulders, big hair, shine, tight, bigger, bigger, more, more. It all makes my head want to explode, and the state of current affairs (more and more layoffs, food lines, homeless moving into my A train) is enough mind/anxiety spark and ignition to keep the explosions coming without being reminded that there is more stuff being made than anyone will buy or need for more money than anyone will have. It makes me nervous. It makes me a little nauseated, kind of like when I go to Costco in the 'burbs and everyone and everything is huge. Too much stuff. Overload. Like a levee-broken-overflowing-flooded-river of too much. Enter Miuccia Prada and her waders to get you through to the other side.

Miuccia is the smart girl's guide to fashion. She puts ideas into her clothes and they barely matter unless you want them to, and then they matter more than you realize at the time. Her last season's collection, with its rumpled, post-tryst aesthetic, was a romantic ode to passionate sex in a hurry. This season's wares are a lot more put together. Earth comes to town amongst the intergalactic shows that have been catwalking all around Miuccia this season. Her colors are earthy: understated mud/olive/turmeric/rusted ruby/horse brown. I can almost smell their mineral makeup. The fabrics are stiff and strong, but touchable: felted wool, felt, wool, leather, or soft--like fur, velvet, and knits. Not pleather, not spandex, not lame. The shapes of things make sense for a woman's body. There are great curving collars finally drawn in at the waist (flattering), deep plunges at the neckline (feminine), and knee length hem lines (flirty). Prada's mature sexuality is always a high point, never cheap, never remotely tramped-up, it sneaks in through practical elements. Bright slashes of red peek from behind gray flannel dresses, the same scarlet becomes a smart coatdress, the deep plushness of the velvet and fur pieces beg to be pet. Prada makes you want to look there, she makes you want to touch. The feminine sparkle of the evening clothes, smartly embellished leather and gray felt, brilliantly adds a little ethereal to the solidness of the collection.

Then there are those waders. Mmmmm. Higher than thigh high leather fisherman's gear. A protective element. Masculine, but so alluring. Some are less high, but comfortably layered over thick socks and held up by straps. A clear imperative for the Prada woman to lift herself up by her bootstraps. Something about them is so visually appealing. I love when an article of clothing has the potential to separate the girls from the women. It will take something to pull those things up and also pull them off. Prada is smart fashion. It is sexy but meaningful, well only if you want to look for meaning. Otherwise, it's just gorgeous. End of story.

Photos from The New York Times and WWD.com. Click images for more information.