“Lap three of Ferrari’s bid to become a champion constructor on the fashion circuit was held in Milan’s magnificent, just-refurbished Teatro Lirico.” Vogue’s review of the Ferrari fashion show was scathing. Wait. No. How could it be?
Before the show began, there was a traffic jam of idling figures drawn from Europe’s industrial elite. As well as the firm’s CEO, Benedetto Vigna, wearing a snazzy car-print foulard shirt, there was its president, John Elkann, whose family group, Exor, controls Ferrari, Juventus, and The Economist among other enterprises. Just down from him was Ferrari board member and LVMH’s prize leading light, Delphine Arnault.
vogue.com
Vogue writer Luke Leitch likes living large. If he’d dared displease the aforementioned power players they would have shot down his career like a Modenese hit man taking out a skimming bookie.
So not a negative word was heard from Vogue‘s Johnny-on-the-spot re: the clothes adorning the deadly serious models parading around the theater where fascist dictator Benito Mussolini made his last speech.
For my part, I’m a deeply unfashionable cisgender writer living in Austin, Texas, a city where women either wear skin-tight athleisure or . . . nope. That’s it. That’s the Austin fashion scene. So far be it for me to judge anything aspiring to the term “high fashion.” But I will say this . . .
As you can see from the image I used at the top of this post, my favorite ensembles from this season’s Ferrari fashion collection are the “jumpsuits borrowed directly from Ferrari’s Formula 1 pit lane.” Not for sale. As for the rest of the outfits . . .
If a man/woman walked in my local cigar-friendly steakhouse wearing any of the eye-searingly colorful Ferrari-branded clothing unveiled in this show, no one would notice (dim lights) or care (stiff drinks). And if you’re wondering why your 2022/23 Ferrari is missing a screw (who isn’t?), now you know.
As dusk fell, the lights came on: Eveningwear was marked by the use of embroidered hardware, nuts, bolts, and washers sourced directly from Ferrari’s construction lines, which were sprinkled with reflective crystals. These glinted against paillette shirting and yellow-to-silver ombré sequined skirts and dresses. Prancing horse pendants and Ferrari-red spiral earrings added more chrome-bright shine.
vogue.com
Providing the now-expected PC justification for expensive and frivolous fashion, diminutive designer Rocco Iannone (above right) claimed his collection “reflects a contemporary world in which everything is mixed and that represents the spirit of our time.”
Iannone’s being too honest by half. Everything is mixed. Aside from the few outfits that say Ferrari, none of his outfits say Ferrari. Or maybe they do. Maybe they say “we’re making so much money from people who’ll buy anything we make that we can make anything and make money.” Shame.
His mood board featured Kate Bush alongside a yellow 308 GTS; Nastassja Kinski (above) and Monica Vitti both by a 250 GT; Cozy Powell and his 308 GT4; Mick Jagger with a 288 GTO; Miami Vice’s Sonny Crockett and Rico Tubbs with a Testarossa; and many other Ferrari-adjacent celebrities.
The Ferraris on Iannone’s “mood board” are classic designs that have stood the test of time. (I suspect the Purosangue won’t make the grade.) The brand demands Ferrari fashion aims for that, not flashy trashy ephemera.
On second thought, Armani and Zegna have that covered. Probably best to stick with cars and coffee mugs.
Much like the Members Only jackets of old, these “fashion” statements have no place in a society that actually has to do something once leaving the house.