Maria Grazia Chiuri has returned home to Fendi. But instead of re-launching herself with a big bang, she muted the palette. Black dominated, white interrupted, baby blue and cherry red snuck in, and bumblebee yellow flickered at the ankles in the menswear.
The message printed across the runway — “Less I, More Us” — did not feel accidental. Chiuri has always used text as a declaration. At Dior, it was feminism in block letters. At Fendi, it’s collectivism, community over ego. A recalibration of authorship in a house historically shaped by the Fendi sisters.
In that context, the show’s text — from “Less I, More Us” to the blunt “NO” tee — doesn’t feel like a Chiuri signature for a signature’s sake, but part of a broader language project shaped by Bentivoglio’s wordplay and SAGG Napoli’s boundary-driven statements of belonging.
If her debut could be summarized in one word, it wouldn’t be minimalism. It would be texture. From the first few exits, the message was clear: this was a collection built on surface. On touch. On the tension between softness and severity. The house described the collection as a ‘return to desire and bodies (a wardrobe built to make impulses visible, tactile), something you could feel as much as you could photograph
Look one — a knee-length shirtdress layered under a blazer — read like a thesis statement. The silhouette was staking territory with sheer socks, pointed heels, and two bags, not one. Black tailoring anchored the opening, but nothing about it felt flat. Satin shirts absorbed the light differently than matte suiting. Wool met silk. Structured blazers skimmed over fluid shirtdresses. Even restraint had dimension.
Tailoring came early and often. Black suits over cool blue shirting appeared on both men and women, a mirrored idea, stripped of hierarchy. The lines were clean, almost surgical, without overt embellishment or baroque excess. Even the lace — a Chiuri signature — felt disciplined, layered over trousers rather than exposed for shock.
And then came the collars. Not necklaces in the traditional sense — but detachable, sculptural collar chokers that sat sharply at the neck. Some were crisp white, almost clerical. Others were edged in fur. Some framed plunging lace gowns, interrupting their sensuality with authority. They felt symbolic, a reclamation of structure in garments that might otherwise dissolve into softness. They’re more like Bentivoglio’s logic made wearable, a piece of ‘logos’ turned object, sitting on the body as punctuation. 
A sheer black slip embroidered with subtle beading was grounded by a rigid white collar and drop pendant. A plunging champagne gown shimmered in sequins, but the neck was cinched with a fur choker — as if reminding us that elegance at Fendi must always pass through structure.
The Baguette returned, but not as a nostalgic prop. Reworked in bright animal prints, contrasted with leather, it cut through the neutrals like punctuation, a reminder that Fendi still understands desire. Still understands the cultural afterlife of a handbag. The Peekaboo surfaced quietly, moody in cheetah spots, matching coats in a way that felt less “set” and more instinctual.
Then came cherry red, deliberate in a slip dress, and a furry stole draped over a bag. Against champagne sequins and neutral furs, the red felt like oxygen entering a room that had been holding its breath. And the furs — always controversial, always central to Fendi’s legacy — appeared texturally. Pops of fur rather than full-bodied opulence.
Even the fur is reframed through “emotional durability”: less a flex of heritage, more an argument for material care; garments treated as memory archives to be regenerated, re-modelled, and kept out of fashion’s one-season amnesia.
The closing sequence leaned into ease. Lightweight gowns. Fluid slips. Dresses that moved freely instead of restricting. Chiuri ended on a black silken dress; understated, almost private.
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