About a quarter way through Emporio Armani, people started clapping.
Then, about three looks later, they started clapping again.
This continued intermittently throughout the show. Was there something going on that I wasn't catching? Was I missing some fantastic details on the looks that were undetectable from my perch up high? (Teatro Armani's auditorium boasts around 20 rows...on each side of the runway.)
I decided to ignore the clappers for a moment and pay attention to the clothes and the models. The clothes were typically Armani--intellectual, easy, with bit of of Italian charm in the form of Swarovski crystals adorning a few blazers. There were some silly flamenco dresses that I could have lived without. But when accompanied by shiny black necklaces of armor, they became a bit more bearable.
I liked the colorways--particularly the soft orange and grey combination--as well as the sharp bowl haircuts on several of the girls. (At this point, I went off on a bit of a mental tangent to think about the trend of having incredibly short or incredibly long hair. These days, if you don't boast a boy cut, you must grow it long enough to be able to properly wear a side braid. I'm personally working towards the latter.)
By the end of the show, I was back on the clapping, determined to figure out what was up. The gentleman in the seat next to me explained that this was a sign of respect, a way of letting Mr. Armani know that the show was going well. At that point, I had a flashback to films of old fashion shows--from the '60s and '70s--that I'd seen in the past. I vaguely remembered something similar occurring in these films. I guess when you're dealing with someone as old school and traditional as Giorgio Armani, you've got to treat him in an old school, traditional way.