148 |Harper’s BAZAAR|September 2014INTERVIEW
The
he has an incredible handle on that,” says Michael. He recalls his favourite
Miuccia quote. He’d asked her about an idea for a show and she replied,
“What’s an idea in fashion? It’s a little ’20s, a little ’60s, a little Russian
woman on a horse.” Of course, Miuccia is rather more complex than that- as is a Prada show. The difference is the Miuccia effect. In the mid-’70s,
after getting a doctorate in political science and studying for a while in
a mime theatre, Miuccia went to work in the family’s leather-goods store in
Milan. She needed a job, but it must have felt like a defeat to a young
idealist. Milan fashion was not the glitz it is today. Giorgio Armani and
Gianni Versace hadn’t yet arrived. Besides, Miuccia hated fashion – or,
rather, she hated the taste that ruled it. Not just good taste but the rigid
system of taste that in the ’70s was being defi ned by designer brands. Her answer in the late ’70s
and ’80s was to wear old uniforms and kids’ clothes. In 1977, she met Patrizio at a trade fair.
He had a factory in Tuscany. She once told the writer Michael Specter that Patrizio was the most
bullheaded, arrogant man she had ever met. They fell in love, married in 1987, and, for better
or worse, have been together ever since. It was Patrizio, she told Michael Specter, who pushed her
to design shoes and clothes, mainly by threatening to get someone else to do it. She wasn’t going
to give him the satisfaction, so she did it herself. But, she conceded, “Bertelli was right. I would
have been bored only doing bags.” Germano Celant, the charismatic director of the Prada
Foundation and a family friend, relates his own dealings with the couple, “Miuccia and I are very
idealistic, very romantic, going for what I would call mental masturbation. Patrizio gives you the
answer in two seconds. Making everything real. It’s a fantastic combination. She’s the conceptual
creator, and he’s the anchor.” Miuccia’s answer to high fashion in the ’90s, when she introduced
Prada’s notion of ugly chic,
wasn’t just personal; it was
a rebuttal to Milan’s system
of presenting a consistent
style and silhouette each
season. She really challenged
that notion by changing
Prada’s direction every season,
often dramatically. The
consequences of that move
have been profound. Because
unlike most of her
competition, Miuccia isn’t
obliged to stay within this
narrow lane of expression.
Which, as Michael Rock
points out, has become
only more confi ning with
corporate branding. Miuccia
is free to explore. And change
her mind. When I talk to
Germano, a week or so after my Milan visit, I mention that the freest birds in the fashion world
happen to be two mature women – Miuccia and Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons. “That’s
because they’re artists,” he says. “They don’t care about the market at the end. The artist learns
that the more you are free and creative, the more you sell. And coherence is the worst. Coherence
means style. Rei and Miuccia try to go against that idea – every time.” He goes on. “The big artists
were always creative late in life. Duchamp. Karl Lagerfeld is another one. Have you seen his home
in Paris? All the books.” Germano grunts with pleasure. “They are really cannibals. That’s Miuccia
too. Looking for the new art, the new architect. And pushing themselves. To me, Miuccia has an
obsession – to throw the ball far, far out there. To get an idea.” Lately she’s been fascinated by
classical art, perhaps as a counter to the current scene. (“I can’t talk badly about art at the moment,”
she says with a laugh.) Next May, when the foundation opens its new headquarters, in a spectacular
redo of an old distillery in the south of Milan, it will host an exhibition called Serial Classic,
featuring Roman art. “It’s the idea of copies,” she says of the concept. “The sculptors were busier
doing copies for rich people, all wanting the same thing. It was worse than now.” A year ago,
Miuccia collaborated with Damien Hirst and Her Excellency Sheikha Al Mayassa bint Hamad
Al-Thani, chairperson of Qatar Museums Authority. Alongside a retrospective of the British
artist’s work, Relics, which ran from October 2013 to January 2014 in Doha, a limited edition
collection of bags co-designed by Miuccia and Damien Hirst were sold in aid of Reach Out to
Asia, a non-profi t organisation headed by Sheikha Al Mayassa. The ‘Entomology’ designs took
one of Prada’s most iconic shapes and used a clear Plexiglass shell within which the artist assembled
various wonders of the insect world.
Our lunch plates have been cleared, and Miuccia steps out to retrieve a tray of coffee and tea.
Some years ago, over a similar lunch at Prada, Patrizio asked me (in front of his wife) how
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