Diane von Furstenberg, colour, skin, platforms, and the slightly complicated business of being yourself.

I have always liked the idea behind Diane von Furstenberg more than I have liked the idea of Diane von Furstenberg as a fashion institution.

Maybe that sounds unfair.

It probably is.

But the original proposition was so simple — clothes that make a woman feel good rather than clothes that require her to spend the evening thinking about whether she looks good — that it’s difficult not to become attached to it. The wrap dress, obviously, but more than that, the whole philosophy around it. Wrap. Tie. Release. Move on with your life.

This collection seems to ask a slightly different question: what happens when you take that idea and turn the volume up?

Because there is a LOT happening here.

Colour first. Emerald and burgundy, chartreuse and violet, camel and hot pink, rust and fuchsia. At first glance it feels like somebody has opened approximately seventeen paint boxes at the same time, but then you look again and realise the combinations are actually quite controlled. Teal keeps appearing too, quietly moving from trouser piping to obi belts to wrap coats to satin tops, like the one person at the party who somehow knows everybody.

And then there is the wrap.

Except the wrap isn’t really a wrap anymore.

Or maybe it is, just having a bit of an identity crisis.

It appears in safari jackets, jumpsuits, coats, bandeau tops, shirts, skirts, sashes — basically anywhere fabric can be crossed, tied or cinched. Which is interesting because it makes the wrap less of a signature garment and more of a way of thinking about clothes. The idea has escaped the dress.

And honestly, I like that.

One of the best looks in the collection is also one of the least complicated: an oversized white shirt, loosely tucked over a black satin wrap mini, finished with a big pendant. After all the colour and all the noise, it feels almost suspiciously calm.

Like someone has finally turned the music down.

And suddenly the original DVF idea makes sense again.

There is also a beautiful lattice-knit dress made from strips of emerald and pale blue crossing over black, with the strips left loose at the hem so the whole thing looks as though it is slowly coming apart while the woman is wearing it. This is probably the cleverest idea in the collection because the wrap isn’t being printed onto something or added with a belt — the actual fabric is crossing itself.

The clothes are doing the thinking for us.

Prints are everywhere too, although they seem to exist in two very different moods. There are painterly, almost archival combinations of teal, moss and ochre, and then there are the much louder things — leopard, abstract graphics, confetti-like stained-glass patterns, logo-heavy pieces.

The confetti print is particularly interesting because it keeps coming back in different forms, moving from one evening silhouette to another. That’s usually a good sign. When a print can survive being turned into several different garments without immediately becoming annoying, somebody has probably done their homework.

And then we get to the shoes.

Oh boy.

Platforms. Platforms everywhere.

Snake-print platforms, metallic platforms, slingback platforms, sandals with enough height to make the rest of the outfit feel like it has suddenly entered nightlife. They certainly make the collection feel more current, but they also create one of the stranger tensions in the show.

Because the clothes keep telling us: ease, movement, confidence, freedom.

The shoes are saying: please walk carefully.

And I think that’s where the collection becomes most interesting.

The first half feels relatively easy to understand. Tailoring, colour, prints, oversized jackets, wraps, a lot of recognisable DVF vocabulary but turned up considerably. Then things start disappearing.

Fabric, that is.

The second half gets increasingly sheer, increasingly exposed, increasingly interested in slits and skin and the body underneath the clothes. There is a violet cape-like gown that practically dissolves around the body, a fuchsia one-shoulder dress with a dramatic slit, and a confetti-print halter that goes right into full evening spectacle.

None of this is necessarily bad.

Actually, some of it is very good.

But it does make me wonder where the original idea of ease ends and performance begins.

Because DVF has always been interested in sensuality, but there is a difference between feeling sexy and looking like you have been dressed specifically to be photographed looking sexy. The collection gets very close to that line.

Maybe that is exactly what it wants to do.

Maybe the point is that confidence can be loud too.

There are also quite a few versions of the oversized belted coat, from safari jackets to leather and suede colour-blocking to a citron duster to an olive tweed-knit version. I understand why. It feels like one of the collection’s intended signatures. But after seeing essentially the same proposition several times, I started wondering if the collection was trying to convince me.

I was already convinced.

We get it.

You like the coat.

And then there is the makeup, which becomes progressively heavier as the clothes move into evening. Natural and luminous earlier on, darker and smokier later. It makes sense with the clothes without becoming another performance in itself, and the setting helps enormously too — greenery, wood, brick, daylight, an environment that feels surprisingly relaxed considering what is happening to some of the clothes.

Which brings me back to the original question.

Can a house built around ease still make an argument for ease when everything else has been turned up to eleven?

Colour. Platforms. Logos. Skin. Slits. Four versions of the same coat. More colour. More skin.

And then, almost quietly, that white shirt.

That is probably the look I keep thinking about.

Not because it is the most spectacular. It isn’t.

Quite the opposite.

After spending most of the collection telling us to LOOK AT THIS, LOOK AT THIS, LOOK AT THIS, it simply stands there and lets the woman wearing it do the work.

Maybe that’s the most Diane von Furstenberg thing in the entire collection.

The brand doesn’t necessarily need to whisper all the time.

But it should probably remember that it knows how