Just another day at the office. At the end of the lunch break we went to the Fondazione Prada. Immediately inside the doors was a warren of gray-carpeted cubicles, all immaculately neat in accordance with company policy. Prada screensavers glimmered softly under industrial lighting. Those eager to mark their return paused to photograph themselves. Round the corner into the main work area, head down and: wow!
This set for this season’s Prada menswear (and presumably for future womenswear as well) consisted of a raised glass floor, supported by iron struts just over a meter high. Below us a stream seemed to run through a meadow. The water flowed from under the runway entrance and then continued to meander over river stones, pushing autumn leaves idly along the runway. There were patches of grass and reeds. The initial surprise was great. Above the glass, however, behavior quickly returned to normal operating protocols. The runway also meandered, its path defined by a row of tightly packed office swivel chairs. The track quickly became clogged with crowds eager to secure content featuring Metawin Opas-iamkajorn, Karina, Lee Jae-wook and other guests. When the direction finally became clear, the real change began.
Ms. Prada said backstage: “Right now you can’t avoid talking about topics that are relevant. Nature, for example.” As she and Raf Simons jointly explained, the thinking behind the collection was closely intertwined with the idea of our natural environment – how we are isolated from it, and how we can return to it. Simons added: “Most people’s screensavers are nature, but at the end of the day we are in this very synthetic, man-made environment.”
The collection included portable work environments for multiple ways of being: Simons called “the business man, the working man, the thinking man.” Most wore ties. The Prada twist consisted of touches that undermined these safe spaces of identity and seduced the wearer to delve into the elemental and surround themselves with nature. Textured swim caps (a perennial Prada classic) were paired with goggle-style goggles with side panels and leather sandals. Close-fitting raincoats, tweed chore coats (a new fabric version carried over from last season), gray three-button overcoats and navy blue outerwear with gold buttons (in cracked leather or navy blue nylon) all offered a route out. Belts in triangular pieces of leather were sometimes fastened with equipment packs; larger nylon tubs were webbed with smaller leather equivalents.
The second eligible commuter wore leather slippers, the same shoes Simons mentioned that he usually wears when he goes for a walk with his dog early in the morning: “These moments really make me think about nature in a different way.” He also mentioned the Elfstedentocht, a Dutch cultural festival (and skating race) that is only possible when certain rivers freeze in winter. One suspected a critique of broader human denial—Canute’s insistence on continuing “normal” behavior patterns despite the water rising and drowning him—but both designers remained cautious. “It probably has something to do with the weather,” Ms. Prada admitted: “Absolutely.”
Of that amazing set, Ms. Prada was less noncommittal: “It was threatening. For me it was scary. That was the impression I had when I first saw it. What is scary is nature that you cannot touch through the glass.” But just before the show started, I saw a spider sitting on a chair next to me: it had worked its way through.
