Excess so theatrical it bordered on defiant
In Milan, two visions of masculinity took the runway on the same afternoon — one draped in jeweled excess and Sicilian mythology, the other quietly buttoning a well-cut suit. Dolce & Gabbana staged its most theatrical collection in years, a deliberate act of spectacle designed to hold the gaze while the house contends with £391 million in debt, leadership upheaval, and a luxury market losing altitude. Meanwhile, Paul Smith offered a counter-argument rooted in generational longing: that young men raised on pandemic hoodies are now reaching, perhaps unexpectedly, for tailoring. Together, the two shows posed a question the industry has not yet answered — whether the future of menswear belongs to provocation or to quiet craft.
- Dolce & Gabbana arrived at Milan Fashion Week carrying £391 million in debt, a recently resigned co-founder, new co-CEOs, and the shadow of a casting controversy — and responded by turning the volume up, not down.
- The SS27 menswear show deployed shirtless models, jewel-encrusted denim, and Sicilian iconography as a kind of theatrical shield, daring observers to look at the runway rather than the balance sheet.
- Behind the spectacle, the house is in active negotiation with creditors and exploring property sales in Milan, while new co-CEO Stefano Cantino — imported from Gucci — attempts to steady the ship.
- A sector-wide luxury slowdown is eroding the ground beneath even culturally dominant brands, and red-carpet loyalty from celebrities may not be enough to offset structural financial pressure.
- Paul Smith's measured tailoring show the same afternoon signaled a possible shift in consumer appetite — younger men, reacting against pandemic-era casualness, are gravitating toward structure, craft, and dressing up.
- The day's two collections drew the fault line clearly: maximalist spectacle versus quiet precision, with the luxury market itself set to deliver the verdict on which vision has staying power.
Dolce & Gabbana took the Milan runway on the second day of Fashion Week with a collection that felt less like a presentation and more like a performance of defiance. Clingy vests, micro shorts, shredded and jewel-encrusted jeans, and T-shirts printed with Sicilian lemons and mosaic Christs — the house cranked its signature maximalism to full volume, as if daring anyone to look away.
The timing was deliberate. Behind the scenes, the Italian house was carrying £391 million in debt, negotiating with creditors over potential property sales in Milan, and absorbing a significant leadership restructuring. Stefano Gabbana had stepped down as chair, and the company had brought in Stefano Cantino, a former Gucci executive, as co-CEO alongside Alfonso Dolce. The show also marked the brand's first menswear outing since a controversy over an all-white casting. On the catwalk, none of it showed — which was precisely the point.
The house still commands red-carpet loyalty. Colman Domingo, Patrick Schwarzenegger, and Ryan Gosling remain devotees. But the broader luxury market has begun to soften, and cultural cachet alone cannot insulate a brand from financial gravity.
Later that afternoon, Paul Smith offered a quieter argument. The British tailor, approaching eighty, has been showing in Milan since 2025, and his SS27 collection made the case for suiting as something alive and personal rather than ceremonial. His younger team had pulled references from his Nottingham archive — over five thousand pieces — surfacing details from the eighties and late nineties. Suits appeared unbuttoned, waistcoats open, shirts untucked. The formality was softened without being abandoned.
Smith attributed the resurgence of tailoring to generational rebellion: young men who watched their fathers wear hoodies through the pandemic now want to dress up. He pointed to Harry Styles, who has traded stage flamboyance for pared-back suits and ties on his recent tour. Smith's own pieces carried their value in technical detail — pad stitching, crease-resistant fabrics, buttons shaped like crocodiles.
The two shows, taken together, mapped the tension running through menswear right now: spectacle versus craft, provocation versus precision. One house is betting that excess remains irresistible. The other is wagering that the pendulum is swinging back. The market, slowly and without ceremony, will decide.
Dolce & Gabbana arrived at Milan Fashion Week on the second day with a strategy as old as theater itself: dazzle the audience so thoroughly they forget to look backstage. On the runway, the Italian house deployed its most potent weapon—excess so theatrical it bordered on defiant. Clingy muscle vests clung to models' torsos. Micro shorts made conventional short shorts look conservative by comparison. Some models walked shirtless. Jeans arrived ripped, shredded, or encrusted with sparkling jewels. T-shirts carried oversized prints of Sicilian lemons, ancient amphitheatres, and a mosaic rendering of Christ. This was the brand's signature "molto sexy" Italian sensibility cranked to maximum volume, a vision of European summer that had abandoned all restraint.
The timing of this particular show of force was not accidental. Backstage, Dolce & Gabbana faced a mounting pile of problems. The house carried a debt load of £391 million. In March, Stefano Gabbana—the co-founder and chair—had stepped down from his leadership role, a resignation that had been tendered the previous December. In January, as part of a broader management restructuring, the company appointed Stefano Cantino, a former chief executive from Gucci, to serve as co-chief executive alongside Alfonso Dolce, brother of co-founder Domenico. The brand was also navigating negotiations with creditors that included discussions about selling and leasing back several properties it owned in Milan. And this show marked the house's first menswear collection since an earlier controversy involving an all-white casting that had drawn criticism.
Yet on the catwalk, none of this registered. The collection was pure provocation—a reminder to the brand's loyal followers of what Dolce & Gabbana had always done best: the art of more. The red carpets still belonged to the house. Colman Domingo, Patrick Schwarzenegger, and Ryan Gosling remained fans. But the wider luxury market had begun to slip. A sector-wide slowdown was making itself felt, and even a brand with Dolce & Gabbana's cultural footprint could not entirely escape it.
Later that same day, another designer took the Milan stage with a different thesis about what menswear should be. Paul Smith, the British tailor who had been showing in Milan since 2025, presented his vision of suiting—a category experiencing an unexpected resurgence. Smith, approaching his eightieth birthday, credited the shift to generational rebellion. Young people, he explained, had grown up watching their fathers wear hoodies during the pandemic. Now those children, aged eighteen to twenty-five, wanted something different. They wanted to dress up, not down. They wanted tailoring.
Smith pointed to Harry Styles as an embodiment of the trend. The musician had moved away from the flamboyant stage costumes of his earlier career toward pared-back tailoring and ties for his recent tour. Smith's own younger team had mined his archive in Nottingham—a collection housing more than five thousand pieces—pulling references from the nineteen-eighties and late nineteen-nineties. On the catwalk, suits appeared unbuttoned, waistcoats hung open, shirts went untucked. The formality had been deliberately softened, the cuffs rolled, the collars popped.
What Smith was selling was not the suit as funeral wear or wedding uniform, but as something more relaxed, more personal. His pieces carried perceived value through technical detail: pad stitching that curved fabric around the body, lightweight fabrics resistant to creasing, quirky buttons shaped like crocodiles or lapel pins referencing everything from teaspoons to sardines. Smith still worked Saturday afternoons in his Albemarle Street store in London, a man who had built his reputation on the idea that tailoring could be both precise and playful.
The contrast between the two shows—Dolce & Gabbana's maximalist provocation and Smith's measured tailoring—sketched the fault lines running through contemporary menswear. One house was leaning harder into the aesthetic that had always defined it, using spectacle as both art and distraction. The other was offering a quieter argument: that young men were ready to dress differently, that formality could be reimagined, that the pendulum was swinging back toward structure. The luxury market would determine which vision had staying power.
Notable Quotes
A lot of our customers grew up with their dads wearing hoodies during the pandemic. Those kids are now 18-25 years old and don't want to look like their dad. They want to smarten up.— Paul Smith
The suit in many people's heads means formality or funerals or weddings. A lot of what we try to do is show how it can be more relaxed.— Paul Smith
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would a brand in serious financial trouble choose this moment to make clothes even more provocative?
Because it's what they know. When you're facing £391 million in debt and management chaos, you don't suddenly become someone else. You become more yourself. It's a gamble—distract with spectacle, remind people why they loved you in the first place.
But doesn't that feel like rearranging deck chairs?
Absolutely. But the brand still owns the red carpets. Gosling, Domingo, Schwarzenegger—they're still wearing Dolce & Gabbana. The problem isn't the brand's identity. It's the market. The whole luxury sector is slowing down.
So what's the Paul Smith counterargument?
That young people are tired of excess. They grew up watching their fathers in hoodies during lockdown. Now they want tailoring, structure, something their parents didn't have. It's generational rebellion expressed through a suit.
Is that real or is Smith just good at marketing?
Probably both. But Harry Styles moving from flamboyant stage wear to ties and tailoring—that's not marketing. That's a genuine shift in how young men think about dressing. The suit is becoming cool again, just not in the way it was before.
So Dolce & Gabbana is betting on one future and Smith on another?
Exactly. One says excess will always seduce. The other says restraint and craft will win. The market will decide. But right now, with that debt pile, Dolce & Gabbana can't afford to be wrong.