For the first time in the history of his haute couture presentations, Giorgio Armani was not physically present at his Privé show—an unprecedented absence for a designer known for his unwavering dedication and steely authority. Though he followed the show from the comfort of his Milan home, where he’s recovering after a brief illness, his presence was anything but distant, hovering over every look like an aura.
“In 20 years of Armani Privé, this is the first time I haven’t been to Paris,” he said via email. “Those trips are a chance for me to absorb the energy of the city and feel the adrenaline of the rehearsals. I can’t deny that I miss it, but I know I can count on the capable hands and minds who have always been by my side. That allowed me to follow the advice of my doctors, who, although I felt ready to travel, recommended extending my rest.”
Word has it, Armani was glued to his phone non-stop, fine-tuning every detail with his team from afar. Even a temporary bout of malaise doesn’t stand a chance against his relentless grip on control. Just a minor bump in the road. To clear up any lingering doubts, Armani himself put it plainly: “If I’ve come this far, it’s thanks to the iron focus and obsessive attention with which I manage everything. And that hasn’t changed. Even though I wasn’t in Paris, I oversaw every aspect of the show remotely via video link— rom the fittings to the sequence to the makeup. Everything you’ll see was done under my direction and has my full approval.”
Titled Noir Séduisant, the collection paid homage to the velvety mystique of nocturnal black, Armani’s eternal shade of choice for evening chic. Silhouettes were lean and softly severe, gliding down the runway, as he described it, “like lines of ink, shining discreetly without dazzling.” The masculine evening suit was reimagined to reaffirm the longevity of its feminine appeal: high-waisted, slender black velvet trousers anchored pagoda-sleeved, close-cut cropped jackets and asymmetrical, sculptural tops, ornamented with peplums and asymmetries. And while Armani is often hailed as the master of restraint, here he allowed his flair for the theatrical to shimmer through in a lavish play of textures, where black was only incrementally upset with silver and gold. Sequins, floral appliqués, crystal studs, velvet intarsia: a quiet riot of surface brilliance, a rather oxymoronic combination, challenged the notion that Armani is a minimalist at heart.
In truth, he’s been an eccentric of the rarest kind all along: the kind whose discipline is so unwavering, it reads as obsessive tunnel-vision. That, perhaps, is the secret to why his über-consistent style resonates so strongly today, particularly in a moment in which fashion seems to be rediscovering the pleasures of dressing with polish and intention, finding the cool in timelessness, crediting wearability as an agent for stylish finesse, and not only a synonym for anemic commercialism. Giorgio Armani got there long before most, wrote the blueprint, and never played catch-up. It’s fashion that’s finally caught up to him.
