Not that Prada acknowledges the competition. When asked about colleagues they admire, most designers will come up with some names, at the very least those safe havens Martin Margiela and Rei Kawakubo. But not Madame Prada. “I’ve said before but not now,” she deflects, though she does offer a nonfashion nod toward one designer with whom she recently rubbed elbows: “I have a mutual respect for Marc Jacobs. We worked together in Venice. He’s nice.”
As praise for peers goes, that’s about it. One might assume that Prada finds it impolitic to compliment the competition were she not just as reluctant to voice favor in other arenas. For example, she recounts her pleasant surprise at sightings of creative good taste at the Biennale—“six girls, really well dressed. I have to say, really very nice.” Yet while some of the women are celebrities, she won’t go public with names. Or outfits. Before describing one woman’s particularly interesting ensemble, Prada goes off the record: “Don’t write it down.”
Such caginess is part of Prada’s complexity. Never a party-hearty type, or at least not since she became famous, she has long acknowledged that her homebody preferences were acquired by choice. “Before I had kids, I was out every night of the week,” she told W in 1996. “Now I want to create a real home for the boys, so I bring my social life in.” Fair enough. But with her sons now 19 and 20 and seemingly past the protection-needed phase, she declines to mention their names (Giulio and Lorenzo), which have been previously published. She does, however, say they now wear her clothes, which has piqued her interest in men’s wear—including the importance of perfect fit—until recently not the business’s most compelling area for her: “I have completely different eyes. Men’s jackets have the most boring stuff, a little bit more short, a little bit more big, a little bit more small. You develop a perfect eye, but it’s really boring. It becomes when you are really involved that you really care. Basically, I found out for my kids. Otherwise when I do the fashion shows myself, I’m more interested in the idea than actually if something fits or not fits. I never care. I care most if I like the idea.”
While mum on her boys’ names, she’s proud of their outspokenness, even when it’s directed at her. “I have to say that my husband and my children are so tough, there really is no space for pretension,” she comments. “We are all tough to each other.” And, she adds, “everybody is principled.”
As an example, Prada relates their horror at her decision not to vote during Italy’s most recent election. “My son criticized me. ‘You’re not coming? You’re not going to vote?’ So I have to justify,” she says. (Which she does; the woman who once famously attended Communist party meetings done up in Yves Saint Laurent noted dissatisfaction with the options.) “Of course, because I always taught them principles and the idea of [the importance of] politics, if they see in myself a false step, they become…. I know it was wrong. I should have gone.” (As for her views on Barack Obama, while so many Europeans in fashion are enraptured, Prada takes a more measured view: “Let’s see what he does. Of course, he’s a hope for everybody.”)
