I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Prada Spring/Summer 2026. Yes, Miuccia Prada and Raf Simmons’ new collection only debuted a few hours ago, but still—as someone whose butterfly mind tends to wander and go off in tangents at the smallest distraction, I’m fully fixated. The collision of unexpected colorways (acidic green crashing into regal purple), the bra-tops reduced to the barest geometric slice, the puffy micro-bloomers, the leather opera gloves...all unfolded like a lesson on contrast taught by the most discerning professor. Opposites pulling toward each other has always been at the core of Prada’s vocabulary: intellect meeting instinct, primness meeting sensuality, even the concept of "ugly chic."
Just weeks earlier in New York, editors were fixated on a new conservatism on the runways: longer hemlines, buttoned-up silhouettes, the supposed death of the naked dress. Perhaps the pendulum swing towards of low-rise trousers baring washboard abs and sheer skirts offering cheeky glimpses was finally swinging the other way. But Prada and Simmons said: not so fast!
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Prada
The first model marched out in a tailored jumpsuit, its seams slicing along the body with military precision. This was Prada’s utilitarian lineage at work, the house that once turned industrial black nylon into a luxury staple now cutting technical twill with couture-level exactness. An unexpected touch: A giant pair of dangly, bejeweled earrings hung from the model’s ears, reflecting light in little holographic rainbows and puncturing the uniform severity with a touch of absurdity. The second look was another jumpsuit in a particularly soothing shade of piercing sky-blue, paired with scrunched, past-the-elbow black silk gloves. This dialogue between workwear and eveningwear, between practicality and play, has long been Miuccia’s playground, and Raf amplifies it with his own history of precision minimalism.
Prada
And then: skin! Lots of it, but only on top. The now-ubiquitous “bra top” appeared, though in the hands of Prada and Simons, it bore no resemblance to lingerie. Instead, it was a severe bandeau, sharply tailored, Prada’s triangular enamel “V” logo slicing away at the hem to frame a wink of underboob. Construction here was key: the piece read less like underwear and more like architectural paneling for the torso.
The tops were paired with high-waisted skirts spilling in patchworks of midnight lace and waterfall satin, cinched with black ribbons knotted around the waist like afterthoughts. It was classic Prada: the intellectual sensuality, the anti-obvious sex appeal, the refusal to deliver conventionally “flattering” shapes (though, for this Millennial, can I just say I'm happy to see some high-waisted silhouettes back on the runway; not all of us are cut for the low-rise micro skirts from sister brand Miu Miu).
Prada
Prada
Prada
One standout hybrid floated past—half skirt, half overall—its light-as-air fabric anchored to the shoulders before spilling outward, hovering around the waist and giving the illusion of floating. Beneath, the waistband of tailored trousers peeked through. Elsewhere, the contrast of modesty and sex was once again seen in the pairing of tiny micro-short bloomers in a range of macaron-like pastel shades, paired with slouchy oversized button-ups and girlish coats. Voluminous skirts, another Prada constant, appeared this season looking bulbous and crinkled, engineered to take up space without saying a word.
The show notes captured it perfectly: “Dispersion and reunion of different elements, unexpected and unanticipated, composed on the body. Juxtaposition here becomes an act of creation.”
For Prada and Simons, duality isn’t mere aesthetic—it’s a philosophy. Today, opposites didn’t just attract; they reconciled and became friends.
