This season, Alessandro Dell’Acqua said he “focused on what I do best, without pushing extremes: feminine dresses, knits, my obsessions. Tartan, lingerie, layers of lightness—because in a world so heavy, even a little levity can clear the mind and lift the spirit. Some evenings, coming home from sketching and flicking on the news, I’d ask myself: ‘Why am I making clothes?’ And yet, you carry on. This collection carries that melancholy—a restless heart, creativity tinged with sadness.”
Dell’Acqua’s obsessions kept him going: slips in heat-pleated duchesse, ’40s polka-dot dresses with side slits revealing high-waisted briefs and lingerie, sheer chiffon skirts with fringed feathers, humble cotton and poplin against sumptuous brocades and faille. Forgotten flowers, faded anemones pinned askew on languid tabards, scarves crafted from sleeves edged with tiny lace strips. Disheveled glamour tinged with modesty, and a dash of gentle punk.
Then there was the gray sweater draped around the neck, like makeshift pearls—a nod to ’50s bourgeois style at Forte dei Marmi, and a whisper of Italian nostalgia. Melancholic obsessions, a hint of grunge, faux propriety. Awkward, haphazard layering—a lawless and chaotic as the turbulent world we’re living in. “I’m not in the mood for excess or loudness,” mused Dell’Acqua. “It’s a time of melancholic creativity.”
