Blumarine is an irony-free zone, which is a shame for Blumarine. Because ironic reflexivity—a self-aware detachment between author and product—is the go-to digestive enzyme in fashion right now for any designer looking to present the brash as brainy.
Here and there today were some pieces that combined enough wearability and dash to compel, whatever the label stitched into them: a high-waisted pleated Lurex silver skirt, a finely fitted ruche-fronted cocktail dress in brown and deep-sea blue leopard, a lurex tiered plisse mid-length dress in green with a ruffle-hemmed bib front, and a slim-bodied, cinch-waisted grey coat with a satisfyingly swoosh-y skirt. A second tranche of clothes fitted into a category where—if you squinted—you could imagine them existing in the collections of other labels currently bathing in acclaim for their clunkily explained, ironic reappropriation of past codes. These included floral overload brocade dresses sometimes fringed with fur, a leopard capelet over a floral pantsuit, and dresses that blended wool and paillette in horizontal lines of muted colors.
Finally, there were the pieces that seemed beyond rehabilitation but were absolutely true to the spirit of Anna Molinari’s house. The included black cocktail dresses with a garland of tablecloth florals at the bottom and crotch, cashmere pantyhose worn with matching T-shirts and fur hoods, a hot pantsuit in white whose (really well-cut) jacket featured house ‘B’ in Swarovski on one patch pocket, and several dresses which needed no malfunction to be more revealing that Gigi Hadid’s second look at Versace.
