Marco De Vincenzo does enjoy a metaphor. “The collectsion is a sort of wave between rigor and explosion, abandon and sharper silhouettes,” he offered, charting the seasonal voyage of the Etro spirit: “Its bohemian side resurfaces, hyper-colored, maximalist, a little mad.” In his telling, Etro is a self-regenerating circle; a decorative universe that feeds off itself like an ouroboros, and never seems to tire of the exercise.
The show opened on a comparatively buttoned-up note. Tailored, menswear-leaning looks carried a whiff of swashbuckling mischief: scarves threaded through slits at the back to form built-in martingales; sea wolf peacoats spliced with corset-like inserts. Etro’s maximalist discipline is now a language De Vincenzo speaks with fluency, but here it came deliberately tempered, the palette softened to muted, dusty tones, tinged with a note of autumn.
Gradually, the composure loosened its collar. The body came into sharper focus through sheers and figure-hugging forms, while increasingly untamed “furs” entered the frame, nudging the collectsion toward patterns and colors with no apparent interest in restraint. The furs, for the record, were in fact intricate wool constructions. “The effect is crazy,” De Vincenzo noted with evident relish. “Wool, after all, has no intention of impersonating real pelage politely, and the resulting texture feels all the more subversive for it.”
By the finale, exuberance was in control, without pretending otherwise. A fantastical menagerie erupted in wool crochet: fully handmade dresses were densely embroidered with three-dimensional exotic creatures roaming a rich, vibrant surface. In De Vincenzo’s Etro, decoration doesn’t merely embellish; it multiplies and proliferates. If he once had to surrender to the brand’s extravaganza, he now seems to revel in it. The closing looks, an unapologetic riot of sequins and feathers, were colorful, joyful, and gloriously instinctual—perhaps already pre-booked for the fast-approaching Oscars red carpet.
