Yes, the show started 45 minutes late—but honestly, what’s a few extra minutes when you’re marking a full century? And sure, more than one model got lost on a runway designed to mimic the Fendi atelier’s 1960s and 70s salon space (a labyrinth of history, nostalgia, and probably a few bad decisions). But then again, aren’t the best parties always the hardest to leave?

Silvia Venturini Fendi opened this 100th-anniversary spectacle by rewinding to her very first Fendi memory: Karl Lagerfeld’s 1966 debut for the house, where a then-six-year-old Silvia walked the runway in a tiny equestrian look, as requested by Karl himself. Fast-forward to today: at the show’s finale, Fendi’s original atelier doors swung open, and out walked her six-year-old grandsons, Tazio and Dardo, dressed in replicas of that same outfit. A full-circle moment, impeccably tailored.

Five generations of Fendi, folded into one show. And yet, Silvia’s approach wasn’t about literal references or archive-digging—this wasn’t a greatest-hits reel. Instead, she aimed to bottle the adrenaline, the thrill of Fendi as she feels it, through its codes rather than its history books. But because fashion loves a good easter egg, the slouchy knit beanies draped in netting were a direct nod to Adele Fendi, the house’s founding matriarch. Silvia recalled how her grandmother always framed her face with a netted chignon; here, the updos were sculpted into horizontal figure-eight infinity symbols—because legacies never really end, they just loop forward.

Co-ed shows rarely find perfect balance—womenswear almost always dominates—but here, gendered crossovers wove themselves into the collection effortlessly. Mohair knits with thick ombré stripes, cashmere polos, intricate embellishments, zigzag-striped mink coats in Fendi’s signature browns—even the nail art felt like a shared language. Menswear had its standouts (a yolk-hemmed lemon-yellow caban coat screamed “Silvia dressing Silvia”), but, as expected, the women’s looks stole the moment.

Which, of course, felt entirely appropriate. Fendi has been led by three generations of women, and this was Silvia’s moment to take full control of the house’s womenswear—something she’s only had the occasional chance to do. Fur has always been a cornerstone of Fendi, but here, it was reframed: collarless coats and dresses with detachable mohair or shearling facades that mimicked lapels but were actually stoles, an elegant sleight of hand. The blockbuster fur coats? Almost all shearling. Earlier in the day, the newly appointed Fendi CEO had casually dropped in an interview that the brand will be opening a new “fur atelier” inside its soon-to-launch Milan store—so yes, Fendi is still very much in the fur business. The level of craftsmanship on display tonight confirmed that point, loud and clear. A red spotted dress was a particular flex.

And then there were the era-hopping nods: lace-edged drop-waist gowns (a quiet reference to a 1966 coat Silvia once obsessed over), checked separates, Pequin-striped dresses, banana-shouldered quilted leather numbers—1920s, 50s, 70s, 80s, all flickering in and out of view like ghosts of Fendi past. “I like the testimony of time,” Silvia said. “I touched different decades, but I also try to avoid a specific one… I give a lot of respect to the fact that when something is beautiful, it’s beautiful always.”

Fendi’s ready-to-wear only officially began in 1977, when Lagerfeld launched it, and after his passing in 2019, Silvia took on the role for several seasons—so this wasn’t entirely new territory for her. But tonight, she stepped into it fully, delivering a collection that honored Fendi’s 100-year lineage while standing firmly on its own as a seasonally relevant, deeply desirable offering. And if this moment lingers in Tazio and Dardo’s minds the way 1966 did for their grandmother? Then Fendi’s creative dynasty has plenty more decades left to unravel.