Fur has been everywhere this season—some of it good, some of it unnecessary, some of it a little too self-consciously ironic. But Etro? Etro sent out the kind you actually want to wear. Case in point: the opening look—a shaggy, near-regal wool fur coat, its bold black-and-white stripes giving just enough drama, shrugged over paisley-print trousers and a knitted waistcoat, insouciant and easy. 

That balance—restraint, but never at the expense of Etro’s dense, intricate prints—set the tone for the collection.

The set, a sweeping curtain painted with strange, prehistoric creatures, was an artwork by Numero Cromatico, commissioned by creative director Marco De Vincenzo. A primordial bestiary, born of some raw, elemental force—his words. In practice, it gestured at the collection’s materiality, its emphasis on tactility over ornament. Shapes were pared back, silhouettes uncomplicated, but the textures were rich, sometimes lacquered, sometimes rubberized, begging to be touched. It was daywear, technically speaking, but weighted with something denser—almost ceremonial.

“Etro’s heritage is a constantly self-renewing force,” De Vincenzo said. And yet, rather than simply excavating the archives, he approaches each season as an ongoing revision—sometimes a refinement, sometimes a total departure. This time, he worked with Korean artist Maria Jeon to create embroidered creatures lifted from medieval zoological fantasies. Elsewhere, botanicals, blown up and abstracted, crawled across ribbed wool dresses with asymmetrical hems, floated on organza tunics, spread like ivy across sweeping ‘70s dusters. Gone was the exuberance of past seasons; in its place, a quieter, more deliberate Etro.