Miuccia Prada's fifties housewife of fall 2010 has gotten saucy for spring 2011, the show for which just walked in Milan. She's maybe taken a lover and a love bungalow in Bolivia, and gone on the lam — with a dyed-fur stole instead of a bikini, and suitcases full of dresses that allow for room around her shoulders, should she get a painful sunburn in the armpit, or the waist, should she get pregnant. She's insecure about her height, and packs either heels, megaplatform heels, or very high board-flat platforms. She scoffs at the white after white after white dresses she sees on women everywhere, and flaunts her bright orange, and her bright blue, and her little green cherubs printed on her chest. The little white she does have is her fur wrap — and some of it, she's dyed away.
Being on the lam, stripes are an appropriately saucy choice, in shades like orange, black, and yellow. She might not swim, but her shades are terrifically goggle-like; if she has a snorkel in her mouth, you might think she had just gone for a romp in the ocean with the sea turtles, and changed everything but her headgear.
She doesn't do miniskirts; she doesn't do bra tops; but she might leave the house in her slip and a pair of heels. And where does she go? Well to the drug store, maybe, where the other girls will spend hours pouring over at-home eyebrow-bleaching kits, while she picks up Rogaine for her own. Then it's off to the market for fruit-shaped candy for her guests.
So … do you want to be her?