A Clean Break

We’ll assume there was no pun intended when Miuccia Prada used Latex in creating romantic, sexy outfits in the wonderful spring collection she presented here. For the homely condom never looked like this: a thin film of Latex ran down the center of the models’ chests, forming a gossamer bridge between opaque pieces of natural linen.

Whatever Prada does has been widely imitated the past few years. It’s often been difficult to understand why anyone would want to copy her exercises in anti-style--uniforms for fast-food workers in nauseating colors, dowdy dresses in tacky synthetics and deliberately cheesy techno-prints. But Prada has consistently been the fashion vanguard many follow.

Abandoning a stance that reeked of ‘90s irony (ordinary, nice clothes are bourgeois boring, get it?) Prada turned to delicacy, using embroidery and beading to decorate fragile fabrics. Yet as much as the designer was willing to reveal the female body, she’s never seemed much interested in flattering it. When boxy coats traveled a straight line from shoulder to hem, ignoring the indentations and swells that make the feminine form a work of art, we could only conclude that Prada considered the body an inconvenience.

This time, she’s crafted silhouettes that look better on a model than a hanger. They celebrate, even enhance a woman’s shape. Sleeveless tops are skinny through the midriff, more rib-hugging than a camisole. Narrow skirts and trousers cling snugly across the hips. Those blouses with peekaboo Latex panels topped slender cropped pants. The outfits defy categorization. They’re neither sporty nor dressy, or maybe both, something a woman might be moved to put on out of sheer affection, appropriateness be damned.

Dresses have been important in a number of spring collections, especially sleeveless sheaths. At Prada, they’re more fitted than the ‘60s-ish versions that enjoyed a revival a few years ago, and now combine patches of shiny and dull material. Stripes of clear beads traverse some, a band of the organza-like Latex hangs at the hem of others. Gone is the nightgownish silliness of last year. These are clean, easy clothes for a modern woman who lives in the real world, and not in an Elizabethan comedy.

It’s anybody’s guess what patriarch Mario Prada would say about what his granddaughter has made of the leather-goods company he established in 1913. Loyalty to “la famiglia,” the blood bonds that Italians honor so fervently, was one of the universal themes that made “The Godfather” saga so popular. But the Mafia as a family business has nothing on the Italian fashion industry. A number of the country’s most successful clothing and accessories producers are family enterprises that have gone global.

When Gianni Versace died, there was no question that his work would continue, because his sister and brother have long been involved in the business. The reading of Versace’s will revealed that the designer left his 50% interest in the company to the 11-year-old niece who was like a daughter to him.

At the end of his Emporio Armani show, Giorgio Armani took a bow with his designing niece Silvana. The 41-year-old daughter of his brother has been involved with the women’s collections for the past few years.

The five Fendi sisters are the second generation to carry on their family’s 32-year-old business. Now their children, in their 20s and 30s, are participating as well. It was Silvia Fendi, niece of company president Carla, who suggested bringing back the double “F” logo in velvet on leather bags. That design, first issued for fall, has been a hot seller. (If further proof of heat were needed, fashion diva Courtney Love has three of the enamel-buckled bags.)

Privately held American companies too often ignore or are stymied by the problem of executive and creative succession. No major American designer has a child ready to join Mom or Pop. Italians take continuing family involvement for granted. “In Italy, it’s a tradition to work with your family, whatever the difficulties,” says Carla Fendi. “Because of all the big families here, it’s natural.”

Silvana Fendi collaborates with Karl Lagerfeld and American-born designer Eric Wright on the Fendi ready-to-wear collection. A respect for tradition didn’t prevent them from using the most high-tech materials--stretch taffeta, languid stretch crepe de chine, and stretch nylon for loose dresses and floaty coats. Explaining a number of leather and fur-trimmed bathing suits, Wright said, “In Europe, women have one suit for swimming in, and another for lounging around the pool looking glamorous.” For lovers of Fendi’s unique furs, a boutique will open in Aspen in November.

The torch has been successfully passed at Missoni, the knitwear firm headed by Rosita and Tai Missoni for 44 years. Earlier this week, their daughter Angela presented the first collection she designed without her mother’s guidance. A separate Angela Missoni line was sold for a few seasons to build her confidence. But by taking over the company’s primary line, she accepts the responsibility of keeping Missoni’s customers happy while moving its styles forward.

Julia Roberts graces the cover of the current McCall’s wearing a brightly colored Missoni dress. Roberts is just the sort of young woman Angela Missoni wants to attract. Her collection has an appealing lightness. The knits, in familiar flame stitch patterns and newly skewed geometrics, were mixed with tailored wovens that will now be sold under the Missoni label. “Sometimes you want to wear Missoni all over,” Angela Missoni said, “but I know I look for suits to mix with the knits, so we wanted to give those pieces to women too.”

That’s a nice thought, but lots of designers can make good suits. Only Missoni has a way with slinky knits in the sun-bronzed colors of a Mediterranean beach, making a twinset or a sparkling minidress as much a tactile as a visual pleasure.

In her first solo effort, Rossella Molinari, the 29-year old daughter of Anna Molinari, all but banished the flirtatious tramp goddess who has long reigned as that collection’s muse. In her place appeared Benedetta Barzini, a famous model of the ‘70s who as a woman in her 50s still commands the runway with her classical Italian features and wild crown of naturally gray hair. Molinari dressed her in a sheer, flowered, calf-length skirt and camisole, then added flat-heeled cheetah spotted boots and a silver and turquoise conch belt. Such rich hippie get-ups and brocade evening pantsuits were far more tasteful than the senior Molinari’s styles, but retained a sense of humor.

Gucci is one Italian company that was nearly ruined by its dysfunctional founding family until it was rescued by Bahrainian money and American talent and know-how. Since Tom Ford took the creative reigns, his shows have been magical. He could conjure a little alchemy any time, but chose this time out to further the direction he’s been working in. Ford is like a patient professor hammering home a point to obtuse students. “The message is erotic, children. You must understand that clothes are all about sexuality.”

The slick, sizzling Gucci image Ford has created survives via dark colors, short, slit skirts, high heels, sinuous fabrics and sharp tailoring. Luxury and the divine decadence he has perfected is represented by crocodile shoes and bags and a burgundy coat of ostrich leather.

The new erogenous zone lies just south of the waist. Skinny straps fastened with buckles stick up from the top of a skirt or slouchy trousers, curving over the hips and drawing attention to the area like arrows marking a destination on a map. Those straps also form a grid on the bare backs of tight dresses and tops. But the most dramatic evening dresses, of clingy lavender or gray jersey, cling tightly enough to keep no secrets.

If you were wearing your new Gucci underwear underneath--bikinis, bras and thongs covered with the interlocking G logo print--the world would know.