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In fashion, few names feel permanent. Houses change hands, designers are swapped out, “eras” are invented and retired on a quarterly basis. Giorgio Armani was the exception. For five decades, his silhouette held: the jacket unlined, the trousers loose but precise, the evening gown pared back to its most essential form. In a way, he felt immortal, until suddenly, he wasn’t.
On Sunday evening in Milan, that absence was palpable. What was meant to be a milestone—50 years…
