Agenda-setting intelligence, analysis and advice for the global fashion community.
As fashion’s great empath, Alessandro Michele feels this moment intensely. He was deep in dark thought while we talked. “I went back to look at Valentino where everything was precise and clear, and it’s not that anymore.” Ironically, there was precision in the multiple blouse-and-skirt combinations with their ’40s inflection, and his clarity is never anything other than consistent. “Touching the duchesse, it’s so incredible,” he rhapsodised. “It’s like you’re finding a meaning in your job that is so apparently disconnected from the outside. But it’s not true, because the outside is you.” I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s having an existential crisis. The world seems to have soured a little on his enchantments. Familiarity has bred, if not contempt with his consistency, then at least a kind of infuriating ennui. “I’m the one that makes the mess, but the mess is outside,” he said cryptically. “I have to find the shape. I need to clean something up. Otherwise, I’m gonna die.” You mean like a janitor, I suggested. The word was new to Michele and his righthand woman Angela. “
Please sign in to ensure you can read our agenda-setting intelligence, analysis and advice. Or get in touch at support@businessoffashion.com if you experience difficulties.
