“I want to show what I love, what I really love.” So declared Maria Grazia Chiuri before she sent out a heart-felt, nearly all-white celebration of Rome, her birthplace. The women in the audience had been asked to dress in white, and gathered to watch in the spectacular formal gardens of the Villa Albani Torlonia. We were anticipating a crescendo, a grand finale of a show from the homecoming queen of feminist standard-bearing.

In fact, what we got from Chiuri was a resort show with a couture collection mixed in with it, for the most part wispily romantic and fragile-seeming. Emphasis on the ‘seeming,’ that is. To the designer, it was an enactment shot through with autobiographical meaning, cultural nuance—a bit of nonsense frivolity—and historical symbolism. And—she was laughing about this in the tented backstage area beforehand—it was deliberately intended to confuse. La Bella Confusione, a novel set in 1960s Rome was one starting point out of the many she infused into this show and its production. “A beautiful confusion,” she chuckled.

Well, you don’t need to spend half a day in Rome to realize how densely, layered and criss-crossed it is with archaeology and history. Chuiri said, in part, that she was drawing attention to the role her city has played in fashion—wrapped up as it is in the Dolce Vita of the fifties, the glamourous heyday of the Cinecittá movie industry, and the glory of Valentino and Fendi, both of whom she worked for. On top of that, she was celebrating the life of the heiress, hostess and patron of the avant-garde arts, Mimi Pecci-Blunt. (Chiuri and her daughter Rachele have just restored her theatre, Teatro di Cometa.)

You can see why Chiuri might identify with Mimi. In many ways, over nine years at Dior, she has also been a relentless supporter and ally of women artists, artisans, and performers. On this night, she had local dancers—dressed in white by the Roman movie costumers Toricelli—performing a Commedia dell’Arte-cum-contemporary ballet around the gardens. This, as a reference to Mimi’s “Bal Blanc,” which took place in 1930 in Paris. All guests wore white and were photographed by Man Ray while they posed surreally as historical figures.

Which was why we began by looking at four long, slim, beautifully tailored double-faced cashmere ensembles—one of them a trouser suit and tailcoat. “These are haute couture,” she said. “You can only make these by hand. Some of the simplest things are the most difficult to make.” This ideal, minimalist yet sumptuous simplicity was followed by many variations on the theme of the long, slim, semi-sheer dress. The lace effects were almost countless—3D florals, rivulets of ruffles, leafy cut-outs, wavy art deco frills, gilded latticework covered with silken fringe—and more, and more. Underwear visible, shoes flat.