Yesterday, on a monumental runway that felt more like a temple than a set, Demna Gvasalia unveiled his Primavera collection: in his vision, Gucci is a living, restless, contradictory creature. It is a human being. What emerges is “Gucciness” as an emotional state. Over the past twelve months, the designer has studied and absorbed. He has moved through the Florentine archives, explored the factories, and felt the brand in his hands. But the decisive moment came before Botticelli’s Primavera and The Birth of Venus at the Uffizi Gallery. Confronted with that absolute beauty—at once Renaissance and deeply carnal—something crystallized: Gucci is theatricality. It is that distinctly Italian idea of beauty that coexists with excess and drama. Stepping out into Piazza della Signoria, with Palazzo Gucci before him, Demna understood that his mission was not to “modernize” Gucci, but to turn it into a feeling. To transform it into an adjective. Yesterday’s show was the first sentence in that unfolding story.
Forget conceptual heaviness. Here, there is no theory—only skin. A corridor of light, darkness all around. With an attitude of challenge, almost provocation, the models emerge from that luminous passage. In Demna’s story for Gucci, no one asks for permission. Every look is worn like a second skin, each model inhabits a precise role: they have personality; they are not merely called to wear clothes. The opening is an almost violent gesture—a seamless, pristine minidress, like a second skin, carried with the poise of a femme fatale. A visual reset. As if to say: let’s start again from the body.
“For me, Gucci is, in every sense, like a person: at times still bound to the unmistakable codes of a glorious, unforgettable past; at other times fully aware of its tradition, yet restless, curious, hungry for change, eager to surprise and be surprised, to challenge and be challenged, to be respected, to be desired.”
There is almost never any distance between garment and figure. They are one. The physicality is celebrated, exposed, stripped, or clad in materials that cling intimately. Skin against skin, cuts, necklines and slits, ultra-short dresses. The looks are almost always monochromatic, ranging from optical white to black, from vivid red to muted nude tones that bring a moment of calm to this provocative ensemble. Everything is pushed to the limit: sky-high heels, bold, almost “rude” styling. It is not enough to simply look at the garments; one must observe how they are worn. Demna continues to work on character, on his celebrated archetypes—a crucial layer that cannot be ignored if one wants to truly understand the collection. This Spring does not propose a single type of woman or man. It is a constellation. Office attire coexists with night-out looks. The same jacket transforms as it moves through skirts, leggings-pants, and trousers. It is a modular wardrobe for plural identities. Demna’s obsessions take shape in unexpected hybrids: tracksuits that become dresses, leggings fused with trousers, tops and jackets integrated into a single, body-hugging piece. After an opening sequence of looks built like blocks of color, floral prints appear on pleated skirts, recalling the iconic silhouettes of Italian femininity. The furs—ultra-feminine and equally close-fitting—emphasize the attitude of a determined woman, always on the move. Then there is space for a more reassuring, softer mode: jackets and coats with wide lapels and broad shoulders; oversized jackets and shirts that, when left open, fall gently into the trousers.
Even the leather, initially used to envelop the body without adding volume, now appears in abundance. Demna then turns to dazzling looks, crafted from precious, almost blinding textures that continue to elongate and sculpt the silhouette. There is theatricality, of course. There is provocation. Opulent suits worn barefoot. Minidresses with vertiginous slits. And finally, a backless gown on the eternal Kate Moss, revealing a GG thong in white gold, set with diamonds. To the final notes of Tu si’ na cosa grande, sung by the sensual voice of Ornella Vanoni, Demna celebrates a seductive femininity, fully aware of its erotic power, daring anyone who watches.
The choice of space—monumental, almost museum-like, surrounded by marble statues—is a declaration of cultural belonging. The soundtrack, a collage of five distinct genres woven into a single coherent aesthetic, translates into sound what the collection expresses in fabric: the unification of differences. Demna listens to Gucci, recognizing its contradictory nature, embracing both its chaos and its grandeur. And yesterday, for the first time, Gucci did not feel like a brand. It felt like a person.
