Then there is a third one with a quieter voice: with an elegance that belongs to the homes of yesteryear, to perfumed drawers, to slow gestures. Textile mink on the cuffs of the astrakhan peacoat. Leopard print over the petticoat. Coral pink chiffon edged with straw-colored lace. The evening dress with the memory of a bouquet engraved on its surface. This season, Ermanno Scervino once again works like an alchemist on fabrics: furs are assembled with raised inlays, double-breasted coats become “featherweight” in structured yet extremely light outerwear, and what appears solid is, in reality, airy. The volumes oscillate between decisive restraint and an elusive lightness, like those moods that cannot be defined. Two worlds inhabit the same fabric. The same surface that resists and allows itself to be crossed. The same silhouette simultaneously occupies and dissolves in space.

Scervino does not celebrate the uniform: he inhabits it from within, transforming and subverting it with the same care with which a haute couture dress is cut. Riding-coats and capes create a precise, controlled volume, until the organza or gold macramé dotted with crystals begins to escape from the slits and the skirts, puffed up by hundreds of ribs, open with sudden amplitude. Rigour is not abandoned: it is simply surprised by something that cannot be contained. As in Sacumdì Sacumdà, sung by Mina, which opens the show and signifies the unpredictable movement of skirts during dancing. The soft Amanda bag, shaped like an upside-down bucket, and the Fiocco clutch bag are dressed in tobacco and loden green printed coconut, two-tone python and black astrakhan, and covered in glitter. In the same materials: the curled moccasin, the mule with a satin bow, and the Texan boot that loses its leg and becomes a low-heeled pointed shoe. And then the mesh bag carried on the arm like someone shopping in familiar places and not yet finished.