There is a particular kind of Ralph Lauren man who appears to spend his summers drifting between beautifully appointed houses despite never seeming to carry a key. He wears linen that is somehow never creased, owns an alarming number of LL Bean boat totes, and always looks as though he's just remembered a very good bottle of wine chilling somewhere nearby.
Set inside a courtyard tangled with climbing vines on Sunday, Ralph Lauren's Spring 2027 menswear show began in familiar territory. French doors stood ajar. Models wandered out with the leisurely confidence of men who have never once checked a Ryanair boarding pass. In the front row, Jack Innanen, Lewis Hamilton, Tom Hiddleston, Colman Domingo, Benjamin Clementine, Kim Woo-bin and Maluma watched on as Lauren served up the sort of Old Money aspirational ease he has spent decades perfecting.
The opening was reassuringly Ralph. Navy pinstripe suits paired with matching berets, metal-framed sunglasses and squared-off leather clutches, tucked neatly beneath the arm. It felt vaguely French in the way American luxury occasionally does (less Parisian than, perhaps, a very expensive fantasy of Paris). There was something of Jean-Paul Belmondo about it, if Belmondo had somehow found himself summering in the Hamptons.
But soon the mood loosened. Rattan bags swung beside white trousers. Lightweight knits were draped over shoulders and tote handles with the studied carelessness of someone who definitely spent twenty minutes arranging them. Boat shoes appeared in droves. Crochet jackets gave outerwear a decidedly summery turn.
What Lauren understands better than most is that elegance rarely comes from perfection – but from the time-worn. A tuxedo with its blazer swapped for a silk-embroidered vintage varsity jacket. Another swapped for a Selvedge denim chore jacket. Patchwork denim blazers. Patina’d workwear. Silver and turquoise jewellery that clearly took its cues from the ornate craft of Native American jewellers in the south.
Just as the collection settled into Lauren's familiar palette of creams, tobacco browns and maritime blues, colour made landfall. Plaid shirts were layered in vivid checks. Windbreakers came in shades of life-vest orange. There were camouflage trousers, embroidered teddy-bear knits and capacious tote bags carrying enough knitwear to survive an unexpectedly chilly August evening. The mood landed somewhere between Ivy League student, vintage collector and the sort of man who buys antique fishing lures despite never having fished.
The styling is perhaps Lauren's real talent. Like eclectic magpies, more was more was more. Bags were large, overstuffed, doubled-up, tucked under arms, and spilling with sweaters, florals and tied with plaid scarves. These were men dressed for multitudes – a country estate, a coastal escape, an Ivy League campus, or a scene in The Talented Mr. Ripley. But, by the end, the destination feels almost irrelevant. The pleasure is, as always, in the journey.
