In addition to the half-seasons, entire seasons have also disappeared (and that is not a positive development).

Whilst research institutes and the teams organising trade fairs are already promoting the new trends for spring/summer 2028, the calendar has become an increasingly fluid concept – if it can be called that – to the extent that one might wonder whether the seasonal division of the fashion industry still makes sense

5 NOV 26
Translated by AI
Image of In addition to the half-seasons, entire seasons have also disappeared (and that is not a positive development).

(Photo: Getty)

After a sweltering summer that stretched into a late autumn, it is almost inevitable to pause and reflect on the seasonality of collections and write once again about fabric research and production. Seasons no longer exist: not just the ‘in-between’ seasons, now a staple of clichés, but not even the traditional ones that called for heavy woollens in the depths of winter and the lightest linen in summer. 
One need only look at the collections showcased during the Spring/Summer 2027 fashion weeks to see this: faux fur and shearling worn with a nonchalant air everywhere, from Gucci to Diesel. This has sparked curiosity and questions – dreaded by industry insiders as much as enquiries about next year’s colour of the year at the Christmas dinner – regarding the strategies behind this confusion over materials. Whilst research institutes and the teams organising trade fairs are already promoting the new trends for Spring/Summer 2028 (interesting but still rather abstract concepts such as ‘Metamorphosis’ for Milano Unica and ‘Blossom’ for Première Vision), the calendar has become an increasingly fluid concept – if it can be called that – to the extent that one wonders whether the seasonal division of fashion still makes sense.
Probably so, albeit for reasons other than purely meteorological ones: the term ‘seasonless’ is not a magic formula that can rescue us from the quagmire of an overloaded offering, hyper-fragmented into a thousand capsule collections and, ultimately, confusing. This confusion, coupled with social and economic factors—which we have seen manifest in the devastation and looting across all the regional capitals of central Italy in recent weeks—is driving the end consumer further and further away from fashion products.
The upheaval in the seasonal calendar, which has elevated ‘off-season’ to a stylistic mantra, has at least partly to do with current circumstances: climate change, an international clientele from various latitudes, and the acceleration of production and delivery times. But the frantic attempt to beat competitors to the punch and launch one’s own product early enough to snap up anyone wanting a down jacket in July also plays a part.
And indeed, the pressure on the supply chain is not easing; if anything, it has increased: the constant stream of mini-themed collections, and even monthly launches that respond to current trends (not just in fast fashion) – whilst causing mental and physical exhaustion in the design departments – a painful problem for those experiencing it but one that nobody seems to regard as a priority – are nonetheless costly and have a significant impact.
Whilst it may be challenging for some manufacturers to switch between producing different types of fabric at intervals of just a few months – given the cost of raw materials sourced from critical geographical areas and the risk of holding large stocks of goods in warehouse – we are, on the other hand, seeing an ever-increasing level of specialisation amongst textile manufacturers.  
In fact, there are an increasing number of companies that focus on a single product category, working on personalisation and transforming the company’s DNA into brand recognition and a promise of quality. 
As for international clientele and the needs of various geographical target markets, this requirement is largely limited to luxury brands or those with a strong presence in the contemporary imagination (a decidedly exclusive club). In fact, most brands already sell in very well-defined markets and specific geographical areas, whilst presenting their collections during fashion weeks with global coverage.
Seasonless design is not about overcoming a constraint that limits creativity, but rather something that manifests itself in standardisation, modular clothing and layering – the obvious superimposition – promoted as a novelty: Off the catwalks, no longer garments sculpted from heavy fabrics but hybrids light enough to wear even in mild temperatures, ultra-light wools and heavy cottons that adapt to sudden changes in temperature.
And if you really do want to give in to the allure of a coat with a nostalgic winter feel, it’s worth bearing in mind that you should include ultra-lightweight garments in your collection to wear underneath, reviving an outfit idea that has now become rather repetitive, or other similar tactics, which are more akin to visual merchandising than to style. 
‘Seasonless’ is a lovely concept, but an elusive one, and one that should be guided by a greater focus on quality and style – which takes time and clashes with the supposed need for a constant stream of new content.
At a time when it is proving difficult to forge the strong creative identities that the entire fashion sector needs in order to reinvent itself, the absence of limits – even seasonal ones – does not equate to creative freedom; on the contrary, parameters – ‘containment grids’ – serve to frame garments within a meaningful context. Ultimately – or rather, first and foremost – it is simply a matter of understanding who we are addressing and what their needs are, whether thermal or otherwise. 




Maria Grazia Chiuri’s creative work at Fendi, which draws inspiration from the 1920s and the 1970s, has quickly filtered into high street fashion – see H&M’s holiday campaign