Etro, the Italian family brand, which recently celebrated its 50th anniversary, has quietly and elegantly grown in relevance and vigor over the past few years. The reasons might seem straightforward: a renewed global interest in heritage houses generally—and more specifically, those with clear and transparent artisanal traditions—and a growing preference on the part of consumers for the sort of crafty special pieces at which Etro excels, items that preference personality over utility or trend. Clothes that embody “values” have value at the moment. This is a good thing, especially when those values come in the form of a chartreuse velvet jacket, richly embroidered, nipped and peplumed, and dripping in crocheted lace.
That piece was one of the many gems shown today for Fall 2019 at a music conservatory in the heart of Milan that Verdi once aspired to attend. The theme of the collection was, essentially, heritage disrupted: Veronica Etro began by taking inspiration from her family’s archive of 18th-century paisley scarves, a trove she revisited when planning for the 50th celebration. Into the luxe mix of paisleys, jacquards, and tapestries, she added nods to Cool Britannia, both the ’90s Britpop moment (when Veronica lived in London and admired the stylings of It-girl aristos such as Stella Tennant and Honor Fraser) and the punk era, which captivated her young Milanese self.
The opening portion of the show was paisley through and through, and literally head to toe in the case of a caped Guinevere Van Seenus. (Can paisley be a neutral? It would seem so . . . . ) Then, stripes and preppier references entered in (boyish rugby, yummy Fair Isle) creating the sorts of print/pattern mash-ups that are a signature of the house. Finally, the collection tilted to the Victorian/Edwardian with jet beading, gold-thread embroidery, lashings of taffeta, yet more capes, and an endorsement of opulence when worn in an offhand, just-heading-out-for-a-pint-of-milk way. The long evening dresses were especially lovely, delicately patterned and overlaid with caviar-beaded lace. The tiny cocktail dresses were also compelling: strongly strapped, loosely corseted up the back, and chicest when gilded.
The show featured models of all ages—from the legendary Farida to the American teenager Cara Taylor—and, in a season of age-diverse castings, here it felt right, not forced. Mostly the women looked like themselves, or an opulent downbeat version of themselves. Mostly, they looked like cool reflections of the mind of Veronica Etro, who is perhaps the true reason behind her brand’s unflashy renaissance. Every season, she imbues the codes of the house with some personal fascination of her own—be it female surfers or Beat writers or her own decades-old love of the Clash and Oasis. She doesn’t seem to rely on the research binders of well-paid stylists or to bow unthinkingly to the whims of marketing folk. She is true to her enthusiasms and curious about the world, which speaks beautifully to the DNA of the Etro brand.
