Dolce & Gabbana's fall show was both a celebration and a satire of the obsessive pursuits of the modern male—from physical fitness to professional success to sexual satisfaction.
The presentation played like a day in the life. First up, outfits for every gym-based activity: running, boxing, swimming, working out. Next, pinstripes for the office, with appropriately serious heavy-framed glasses and a broad-shouldered, nipped-waist silhouette to broadcast the body beautiful beneath. Then came playtime, Dolce & Gabbana style, with the duo's artfully distressed denims now paint-splattered for added aesthetic appeal, or packed with khaki combat details, under shaggily sauvage shearlings. Eveningwear, which dressed up those denims with tuxedo jackets and crystal-studded superhero T-shirts, was followed by a cavalcade of bare-chested Dolce boys in more jeans, hip-slung to highlight the "belt of Apollo"—that part of the anatomy that only Brad Pitt, male models, and the most-ardent gym buff seem able to maintain. (No coincidence that "Proud Mary" played on the soundtrack during this sequence.)
The red-carpet finale—maroon velvet tux, white dinner jacket, black satin ties with glittering tiepins—had an exuberant disco vulgarity. But that's what unifies and makes such a success of all these disparate statements: unabashed exuberance, with tongue placed firmly in cheek.
