Prada Tells Us to Put Our Big Girl Pants On
For Fall 2025, Mrs. Prada and Raf Simons titled their collection “Raw Glamour,” and at the top of their show notes begged the question: “What does femininity mean today?” They wanted us to analyze the ways in which we digest and interpret classic beauty. Who gets to be feminine or coquette? And when does the fantasy of dressing like great women of the past become devoid of power or meaning? When does that glamour start to feel frivolous?
Swarms of famous people attended, one of whom was Prada brand ambassador Hunter Schafer, dressed impeccably in a navy coat and pair of metallic hot pants, just a few days after she spoke out about the disgusting act of the current administration changing the gender on her passport.
She looked beautiful, strong, uncomplicated, and contemporarily feminine. So did the first four models who walked out into that scaffolded, foreboding maze at the Prada Fondazione, the brand’s usual show space. Each one wearing different versions of the same loose black dress with a knee-length hemline. There was a sheath silhouette and one with a roughly cut cowl neck in a strange drape. Three had giant buttons placed in various positions on the body: at the hips, in the middle of the torso, two at the bust, and two at the waist. The models’ hair looked unbrushed, and their faces appeared free of any makeup. They were odd and completely entrancing. It was a true sketch of a real woman today, dressed in tropes of classic feminine beauty, put through a paper shredder.
The designers are always interested in ponderings around femininity and dress, in fact, it’s what Mrs. Prada’s entire body of work is about. But at this moment, their pursuits felt more pertinent (and poignant) than ever. Backstage, Mrs. Prada and Simons talked about their latest collection as a response to the current socio-political climate, particularly in America, where a group of men in power are attempting to completely eradicate basic human rights, especially those of women and the LBGTQ+ community. They spoke about reducing classic silhouettes and embellishments in order to take preciousness or strict shape away from the body. “Liberation always comes with risk-taking,” Simons said with a passionate tone.
Watching the show, you felt this intentional stripping back and opening up in the cocooning, anti-New Look proportions of the 1960s-style floral housewife dresses with flat bows on the front at darting at the bodice. Pencil skirts were oversized and worn hiked-up with paper bag waists that looked like they could fall down at any moment. There was a perfect grey skirt suit that, in a sea of '80s workwear lately, felt like it hit the nail right on the head of what women nostalgically might wear to the office in 2025.
There was no eveningwear in the collection. A bulbous opera coat came with globular cluster pearl closures, and a knit dress looked like it was thrown on backward and belted haphazardly by someone who was late to an important meeting. White button-down shirts were wrinkled or came with off-kilter collars. She was the Prada woman everyone in fashion talks about–intelligent and complex–but reinterpreted for the rest of the world that exists outside the fashion bubble, for women who don’t have the time or energy to think about what a peplum could do for their figure or how a crystal embellishment might make them feel prettier.
For the last two years or so, we’ve heard countless designers talk about making clothes for real women. We’ve also seen the Internet in a feral state over TikTok trends like “girlhood” and “coquette.” You couldn’t shop for a tailored blazer without getting smacked in the face by applique. These varying degrees of what other people think of femininity is or could be has gotten muddled and, frankly, dull. In Prada land, you can be as chaotic as you want, exist somewhere between nostalgia and now but always dressed like a grown-up.
This collection is made for those of us who want to put our big girl pants on and stomp through the mud of this moment, not retreat into archetypes of the past or fantasies. And maybe we’ll also be wearing a pair of Mrs. Prada and Simons’ patented boots with the toe caps cut out to do so.
I watched the livestream of the show this morning with my daughter. Granted, she’s two, so I’m not sure she understood what was happening, but she did watch, mesmerized. I kept looking at the clothes and then at her, dressed and ready for school in a micro-floral print corduroy coat and her hair in a curly ponytail. I hope she dresses like a Prada woman when she grows up, at least with the confidence of one: defiant and liberated. “Why are they walking so fast, Mommy?” she asked. I told her it’s because they have places to be.
You Might Also Like
