Last June, at Ralph Lauren’s seasonal presentation in Milan, the audience was younger, more looksmaxxed and more TikToky than usual.
Then the house that Ralph built, with more than 55 years in existence, seemed to gain unforeseen popularity on TikTok, Gen Z’s favorite app. In recent years, users have upheld Ralph Lauren as part of the old money trend — a simplistic distillation of affluent aesthetic that interprets rich clothing as clothing like Chevy Chase’s character in “Caddyshack.”
Whatever pushed young people back to tucked-in polos and pleated khakis, Ralph Lauren reaped the rewards. In the days leading up to this Milan Fashion Week, I received a press release from the resale platform StockX revealing that sales of Polo Ralph Lauren on the site had increased by 600 percent by 2024. It attributed the rise to the “rise of Ralphcore in the market.” TikTok,” where “a new generation of consumers has embraced and even redefined what the label stands for.”
But this season, on Saturday, the first day of the men’s shows, the audience attended the final unveiling of Mr.’s arresting Purple Label line. Lauren more purely business, more established. Editors in leather jackets and department store shoppers in turtlenecks filled the palazzo’s cream-colored rooms, not the mustachioed TikTokers in their 20s and 30s capturing content.
Did the company distance itself from TikTokers just before the impending ban of the app? Maybe. (Notably, the presentation, which the company emphasized was a “press day,” came one day before TikTok would become verboten for U.S. users.)
But there was also a pleasing symmetry between that guest list and the understated collection, which was a stroll through the label’s tried-and-true hits. You can close your eyes, think of the name Ralph Lauren and imagine almost everything on offer: double-breasted Glencheck suits, an olive green parka, sturdy British overcoats, a turtleneck and a Fair Isle ski vest.
Several highlights, like an Italian-made suede blazer with braided lapels, showed a maturity far beyond the TikTok years. As a whole, the collection was a reminder that Ralph never has to chase. The brand can make beautiful sweaters and reliable jackets, and shoppers will flock to them — whether on TikTok or whatever ephemeral app comes along.
Mr. Lauren’s line wasn’t the only one that showcased some of Ralph’s core traits. At Philipp Plein’s runway show, held at the soon-to-open Plein Hotel, a chandelier and black marble cathedral with the sensibility of a Miami strip club, Mr. Square from what is just his version of the famous Polo Bear sweater: a trio of knits featuring a cute bear dressed as a bellhop, a beachgoer in a cabana shirt and a gentleman in a tuxedo.
Those sweaters were pretty much where the Ralph Lauren comparisons ended. If Mr. Lauren’s label is a “Great Gatsby” vision of menswear, Mr. Plein’s is more “Grand Theft Auto.” His collection included a crystal studded blazer (worn shirtless, natch), distressed jeans and a duffel bag imbued with twists of the Budweiser logo that read “Square.”
While this particular show delved more lightly into the camera-bait mayhem of some of Mr. Plein’s previous presentations (this is, after all, a designer who has sprinkled his runways with jet skis, robots and Mad Max monster trucks), he squeezed in still there in an appearance by the rapper French Montana, wearing a leather Plein jacket with studs. Naturally, the performance was posted to TikTok the next morning.
The atmosphere had been much calmer earlier in the day at the presentation of Brunello Cucinelli, the Italian cashmere comandante whose label, like Mr. Lauren’s, was hailed on TikTok as a new money product.
When asked about the trend, Mr. Cucinelli, the Plato of pleated pants, avoided a direct answer and instead gave a philosophical one. “I came from a farming family, a farming family, and now I’ve become a rich man, but my life hasn’t changed at all,” he said. “I can spend time with the old money and get along with those who don’t have that kind of money.”
His clothes are for men who have that kind of money. Days before the presentation, the label reported sales of $1.3 billion last year, an increase of more than 12 percent. And 37 percent of the company’s revenue is now generated in the United States.
“If the Americans don’t appreciate the collection, then that’s a problem for you,” he said. “Americans have to like it.”
So what is Mr. Cucinelli pitching to those American shoppers? This season, a sheepskin jacket in a sly cloud-like gray, a denim-like double-breasted blazer and a ruby red tuxedo jacket with a satin lapel that seemed tailor-made for a New Year’s party.
As I left the presentation, I went through a three-deep tunnel of young people – mostly young women – waiting outside the building’s stone arch. The arrival of Chinese actor Li Yun Rui, whose name did not ring a bell among the American press corps, was anticipated.
When he showed up later and Mr. Cucinelli walked out to hug him, there were shouts and phones rang. TikTok or not, brands will always find a way to be seen.
