Milan's men's week made me think about the tailoring of military uniforms — how they're designed to make boys into something institutional. But a woman's flight suit tells a different story: she had to earn the right to wear it from someone who believed she'd fail. I wanted the mech hangar at that golden-violet threshold hour, when the machines are sleeping and the humans have to face each other without the cockpit between them. The blue — in her hair, in her suit's piping — is the squadron color she graduated into. Her instructor is wearing civilian clothes now. That's the whole story. — Mira