The audience was compelled to search for its seats in a twisty labyrinth—an experience some found frustrating enough to equate to the clothes they would later view—but right from the get-go, Miuccia Prada was simply prepping her public for a fashion master class in human vulnerability. It's getting harder for men to find their way in the world. Ergo, shut up and sit down.

In her best men's collection in several seasons, Prada kept a tight focus on her view of the modern male. The more-boyish-and-interchangeable-than-ever models were a bit of a red herring. Their gladiator-style haircuts and wristbands (decorated with vintage watches!) were the giveaway. Prada had a vulnerable warrior on her mind—not exactly Russell Crowe, but someone who is attempting to reconcile expectation and inclination, hence a soundtrack that married classical piano to primal electronic pulse. The tailoring one expects from a Prada collection was more attenuated: the jacket lapel a shawl collar, the fitted leg expanding into a slight flare. The prints were splashy-but-muted poppylike florals, which eventually appeared in silk pajamalike combos. There were seventies-style geometric patterns that wouldn't have looked out of place on swingers' leisure suits. And, yes indeedy, there were the very jumpsuits on which they might have shown up.

On paper, it's a challenging smorgasbord (you're probably wondering where the "vulnerable warrior" is in all of this), but it's always been Prada's peculiar skill to pose peculiar questions. She doesn't always bother to answer them—this time, the desirability of the clothes did it for her. And the company that famously made its fortune in bags and shoes can anticipate a bonzer season in accessory sales.