“I am no longer an artist; I have become a work of art,” spoke a voiceover in the middle of Prada’s Spring 2020 men’s show, held, for the first time off home turf, in Shanghai. (Typically Miuccia Prada prefers to show her collections in the Fondazione Prada in Milan or at her New York office.) Later, the same voice said, “I feel myself a god.”
Mrs. Prada has long maintained a reverent relationship with art, supporting and collaborating with her favorite creators, without ever formally declaring herself among their ranks—no word on the god situation. So, what were we to make of the statements pronounced, at techno speed, over a blue-lit runway at the Minsheng Art Wharf?
To those at home in the Pradaverse, the words, lifted from Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s Welcome to the Pleasuredome, were Prada subversion at its best. In the show notes—unlike her in situ shows, Mrs. P did not assemble journalists for a debrief—the collection was described as one of optimism, suggesting that being hopeful can be an antidote for accepting the darkness of our actuality. It’s a continuation of the themes she launched at her recent women’s Resort show in New York, but when presented on male models, it took on a kinkier edge. The girlishness and sweetness of those paillette scarves and embroidered shirts were replaced with an almost erotic purity—the idea of fetishizing a thing as perfect as it is, unadorned in simple cotton or loose leather. The clothes were essentials in the most classic sense of menswear—twills, tweeds, shirting, sportswear, khaki—but oversize or misplaced in their proportion to reveal, say, a bare collarbone in a baby doll–ish tank, or to accentuate the strangeness of wearing a cropped jacket over a blazer in the same material. Together the looks comprised all the musts of a traditional male wardrobe, recut with the freewheeling spirit of boyhood.
But a Prada show is never one note. The stated reason for this Shanghai show was to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Milan being named a sister city of the Chinese cosmopolis. The reality is that business in China is booming. Over two days of touring the city’s hubs, it was impossible to miss a Prada store or billboard. In reviving its Linea Rossa business, the company has struck gold with a younger, more streetwear-inclined consumer. Perhaps that’s what gave birth to a series of prints of antiquated technology. A roll of film here, a cassette tape there, a ‘50s soda-pop joint milkshake later on—all of these pieces appeared as a single graphic or as a grid of many on trendy nylon. As the models walked past an audience clad in last season’s Frankenstein-patterned pieces, you could see the commercial appeal.
To be sinister, or sales-minded, though, is not the larger message. Zoom all the way out—like, decades of menswear out—and this collection could read as a pivotal moment for Prada. For a long time, its menswear shows were about a medium-rise straight pant, a button-up polo shirt, and a loose anorak. Since hitting commercial success with pop-worthy printed camp shirts, Mrs. P has dared to design well beyond her menswear signatures, producing short-shorts and tightly belted blazers, and now loose tanks and shorts with zippers up the side seam. It’s a real treat to see her explore proportion and intention in menswear with the same pointedness she brings to her women’s shows. No wonder the guests in Shanghai went wild.
