"This is a cashmere fur," said Brunello Cucinelli, pointing out an elongated gilet with a lining so soft it was almost impalpable. Cashmere fur? Never heard of it; but apparently there is no limit to what can be achieved by the über-skilled craftsmen in Solomeo. The technique sounds quite esoteric—it involves combing, brushing, massaging, and coating a goatskin with a special finish until, via some sort of morphing process, it becomes so impossibly ethereal that it seems almost as if it had never belonged to a living thing.
The rest of the lineup was grounded in more solid turf: Mother Earth was invoked in the collection's title, Wild Luxury, which referred to an organic, textured feel. Mineral shades—stone, geyser, lava, Pietra Serena, Miniera—were combined with trademark winter whites, adding a quality of cool warmth to grainy, sandy surfaces dusted with metal flecks. Cashmere came in as many luxurious versions as you can get. It was woven with golden Lurex or tightly knitted with tiny "diamond knots," embroidered and appliqués to rough effect. Fluffed and brushed, it was curly as fleece.
The silhouette was layered yet streamlined, with a touch of cool styling—separates in relaxed shapes and contrasting materials were easy to mix and match, making for a versatile, flexible look. Slouchy cropped pants with a dropped crotch added a welcome masculine counterpoint to the hyper-feminine, sensuous abundance of plush fabrics, voluptuous knits, and rich furs. In Cucinelli's world, the luxury factor is stronger than the wild one—and it's definitely more tamed than primal.
