This collection was straight-up FUG, in my opinion. Rarely do I rip apart a collection like this (actually, I do it all the time), but it was like 1960s over again and not in the good way. The diarrhea colors, the shag carpet, ill fitting silhouette…. ugh. I do have to hand it to Miuccia for reminding me of my old agent’s office in NYC. It was like you stepped into a friggin’ time warp when you walked into his office. The smell of burnt Sanka, the offering of Werther’s in a crystal dish (actually, come to think of it, it was really a crystal ashtray), the shag carpet that allowed for more than dust to collect and of course, his nasty cigar smell in the office (also converging with the aromas of Chinatown-barf!). Thanks Miuccia for jumpstarting sacred memories!
photos: Style