I love London Fashion Week. London is my home, and its fashion week is cool, a little gritty and from what I imagine, perhaps a bit edgier than the other cities. Which is why my first Milan Fashion Week was such a departure for me, but I love nothing more than being pushed out of my comfort zone and into new spaces.
I always heard that the different fashion weeks have their own personalities. If I had to compare Milan to London I would say, Milan is our glamorous Italian cousin. The one who is always dressed to the nines in something that’s a little bit sexy, face made up completely, but will also dance until the wee hours in very impractical shoes like it's no big deal. It’s both glam and unpretentious at the same time, which is a hard balance to strike.
It is a city where despite the relentless paparazzi camped out outside of expensive hotels and fashion shows, you can still manage to see the odd celebrity strolling down the street or taking the art tour that you also signed up for around the same slot. It’s both intense and chill at the same time. The mood outside the shows has the energy of a massive stadium concert as fans press against the barriers hoping to catch a glimpse of their favourite celebrity (all of which I’m rather bad at recognising). Inside at the shows the mood is one of greeting all your friends excitedly, so happy to all be in a room together about to witness someone’s art, blood, sweat and tears. I hope I never get jaded and stop thinking it’s incredible. I don’t think I met a single person who took it for granted; it’s pretty cool to be among that energy.
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The dedication to designers and head-to-toe looks is a sight to behold and something I admire. In London I find we definitely tend to mix it up, but I appreciate a head-to-toe look as well. I had the pleasure of spending time with a lot of folks who are big supporters of specific brands. And let me tell you, you could always tell what fashion show was next on the schedule based on the outfits being sported in lobbies and restaurants. First everyone was decked head-to-toe in Prada. Then almost as soon as Prada was over and done there was a slow changing of the guards as people began to step off the elevator adorned in Gucci.
Gucci as a show dazzled me. The music was stunning from the moment you walked in the venue. The clothing reminded me of the age where I first started to really get into fashion; the sexy minimalism of the late Nineties. I felt teleported in a good way. I also thought that a lot of the collection was easy to wear while never being boring. I’ll leave the short shorts to my friends, but I loved the silhouettes. The only shoes with any height that I wear are flatforms, so I’ll be looking out for those platform loafers come spring. I’m already taller than my partner so what’s another three inches? I also went to the Prada show, which was full of wispy ethereal dresses paired with fun accessories.
As someone who’s an ardent second hand shopper, Milan Fashion Week gave me a lot of good ideas for what to look for on Vestiaire Collective and eBay. Unlike the ultra fast pace that fashion is sold to us in many stores, in these rooms there’s a different attitude. While everyone is excited for new shows and new looks, having a piece from a special season is a real badge of honour. Wearing it, loving it and being knowledgable about it is a part of it too. And isn’t that exactly how it should be? There’s a lot to be said about consumerism (and I’ve probably written some of it), but when I meet people who have such pride in their clothing and put a lot of care into preserving the things they buy, there’s a pride in that which is worth shouting about as well.
