From Prada to the New York catwalks: fashion revives analog dressing

In recent years, fashion has given the impression of wanting to pursue perfection at all costs. It is no coincidence that the trend which has most characterised recent seasons – quiet luxury – has always conveyed a sense of impeccable, understated elegance, where wealth was not to be flaunted, but rather hinted at through details and exquisite tailoring. This aesthetic has been embodied above all by brands such as Bottega Veneta, The Row and Loro Piana. Amidst camel-coloured coats, logo-free bags and neutral colours – all in an attempt to appear spontaneous – quiet luxury has ended up becoming extremely rigid in its codes. Now, however, a counter-trend is emerging – or, if you prefer, a reaction: analog dressing. This new trend is all about crumpled, well-worn, imperfect clothes. The watchword seems to be instinct. This is not a matter of carelessness, but of deliberate imperfections.

Once again, leading the new era of fashion is a brand accustomed to being ahead of its time: Prada. The shirts and dresses from the fashion house’s latest collection caused a stir, appearing deliberately unironed, as did the jackets with a worn effect, which sparked a furore on social media but also garnered much admiration from industry insiders and trendsetters. Miuccia and Raf Simons brought slightly grubby cuffs, frayed hems, loose threads, jackets with a worn surface and shoes that already looked well-worn to the catwalk. These were not accidental flaws, of course, but imperfections created on purpose.

As we know, it’s a short step from hype to imitation, especially in the world of fashion. This was demonstrated at the recent New York Fashion Week, where analog dressing appeared practically everywhere. We’d be wrong to think this is a contemporary trend. Its roots run much deeper, as demonstrated by icons of the past who have always embodied this style. Foremost among them is Jane Birkin, who effortlessly wore jeans that looked worn and bags that were almost misshapen from so much use. The appeal of these looks has never stemmed from perfection, but from the intimate relationship that had developed between the person and what they were wearing. In New York, we saw it on the catwalk in Altuzarra’s deliberately misaligned shirts, in Brandon Maxwell’s crumpled T-shirts and even at Tommy Hilfiger, who showcased jumpers that looked as though they’d been put on almost inside out.

Analog dressing is officially here, and it is not the opposite of luxury: it is the opposite of control. The concept is simple: dressing as if there weren’t a camera constantly pointed at you. No looks designed to be instantly recognisable on social media, no compulsory perfection, no outfits subject to the algorithm’s judgement: analog dressing prioritises spontaneity.