Forget glass skin, the fad of yesteryear that made women’s faces look like freshly polished windscreens. Now it’s time for ‘butter skin’. an innovative concept that combines glamour with the essential need to look delicately buttery at any time of day.
It was model Aisha Potter who, with a digital spatula on TikTok, dared to lay the foundations of this culinary-cosmetic revolution. Her secret? Products that melt so easily you could spread them on your face. Say goodbye to compact powders that are too dry and old-fashioned! Here, we’re celebrating ointments, creams, dripping fluids – in short, anything that leaves a soft imprint on the epidermis, like a lump of butter left on a radiator in the middle of August, perfect for parties like the Dernier Tango in Paris.
The promise? A complexion as luminous as a lump of butter under a supermarket neon sign. All with a touch of sensuality for skin as soft and creamy as a freshly baked brioche.
Experts agree that this trend could go even further. Some influencers are already experimenting with ‘margarine skin’, while others are advocating ‘glow mayonnaise’, where the light reflects so well off the skin that it’s impossible to distinguish the forehead from a hollandaise sauce. Continue reading
The rotor vibrates and its shudder, like a steel wing, beckons you to travel, and already the wind is caressing the cabin with the warm breath of early spring. The ground fades away in a whisper, leaving the weight of everyday life to crumble away. The helicopter rises, a sylph of the air, a mechanical bird gliding towards the immense blue, towards the eternity of an endless sky as far as the forest of Brocéliande.
Beneath our feet, the earth opens up like a living mosaic, woven of emerald and tawny gold. The horizon, elusive and sovereign, rises like a promise, a call on which time suspends its flight.
The sun, a silent accomplice, stretches the air in crystalline transparency. No clouds or flakes of celestial foam this morning, and while the sea will soon sparkle, it will extend its arm to the edge of the world. Over there, eternal Brittany is already awakening, dressed in winds and legends, bathed in sea spray and mystery, with its granite houses quivering under the caress of the salt. Continue reading
The ‘Tonneau’ bag is a leather goods classic, and an iconic piece that captivates with its elongated, cylindrical shape. Its design is both chic and practical, making it a coveted accessory for fashion lovers and leading luxury brands.
Its origins, and first and foremost its shape, are inspired by barrels, as its name suggests, but also for transporting plumbers’ tools. This tubular silhouette was adopted by leather goods manufacturers in the early twentieth century, in particular to create functional travel bags. One of the most famous models is the LV, launched in the 1930s, which has become a staple of the house, but in reality it is older than that.
Guillaume Larquemain is a designer trained at the École Boule in Paris, a true benchmark in art and design. Continue reading
Luxury in China: When Brands Step Down from Their Pedestal (But with Style). Once upon a time, luxury in China was a playground for capricious billionaires and eager nouveau riche, ready to raid a Chanel boutique like others fill their shopping carts at Lidl on discount day. But that was before. Today, in times of austerity and economic restrictions, major fashion houses have had to readjust their strategy. Gone are the diamond feasts and private fashion shows that looked like G7 summits now it’s all about democratizing glamour!
Exhibitions Instead of XXL Boutiques, after spreading flagship stores larger than imperial palaces across China during the pandemic, luxury brands have decided to come back down to earth. Their secret weapon? Beautiful little exhibitions open to the general public. Yes, you read that right: the general public! Those who were once turned away at the door for not having deep enough pockets can now admire luxury handbags up close though they’ll probably never buy one.
Just in March, Gucci, Loro Piana, and Penhaligon’s organized public exhibitions around Shanghai Fashion Week. The message is clear: “We see you, dear anonymous masses, and we have decided to dazzle you… for free. But don’t forget that if you ever win the lottery, our stores are still open.” Continue reading
Earthquake at Loewe: Proenza Schouler arrives, Anderson evaporates and Dior trembles. Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez, the turbulent brains behind Proenza Schouler, are taking over the reins at Loewe. Yes, you read that right. The New York duo, accustomed to graphic cuts and asymmetric jackets that raise bankers’ eyebrows, are set to inject a dose of Brooklyn into the century-old Spanish fashion house.
They take over from Jonathan Anderson, who after 11 years of reign decided to pack his bags, to the ovations of critics and the sighs of relief of those who never understood his obsession with distorted jumpers. Officially resigning, unofficially on his way to shake up Dior – after all, why stop there?
McCollough and Hernandez, meanwhile, are already in the starting blocks. Last January, they announced their departure from Proenza Schouler, to let the suspense settle before embarking on a new adventure. Creative chaos seems to be their fuel.
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Get ready, because this season, your glasses will no longer be mere accessories, but true fashion shields! Forget the discretion of tiny frames and barely visible lenses. In 2025, elegance is measured in square centimeters!
The Safilo group brands have decided to make a big (and bold) statement. Thought a logo was already too flashy? Think again. This summer, you’ll need glasses that scream at the world, as if your eyes had just been sponsored: you have to think big or not see at all!.
We’re witnessing a true revolution: glasses are no longer just there to protect you from the sun’s glare, they’re there to dazzle others. With its metallic details and sparkling crystals, Stuart Weitzman’s new collection could well trigger reflections so intense they could serve as street lighting. And I’m not even talking about Ray-Ban Metas with phones and radios, etc.
A fashion prodigy who must have woken up one day and said to himself: ‘What if I made fashion into a vast playground where nothing makes sense any more, but everyone applauds?’
Born in Northern Ireland, an ideal place to develop a sensitivity to tartan-style curtains, the land of whisky where couture is a clan. He studied at the London College of Fashion before launching JW Anderson in 2008. His idea was to merge the masculine and the feminine, to reinvent gender codes and, let’s be honest, to wreak havoc on wardrobes, which is now forbidden in the United States. He was soon spotted for his keen sense of ‘Why make things simple when you can make them complicated?’ and his love of clothes that defy gravity and common sense, as well as his love for Hecate, the mythological goddess in love with the Moon and magic.
Loewe, the Spanish leather goods brand that decided in 2013 that it was time to abandon its image as a chic old house and invite Anderson to mess things up with his experimental aesthetic. The result? Bags that look like jigsaw puzzles, jumpers that look like they’ve been knitted on acid, and adverts in which you wonder if the designer and photographer hadn’t had a night out with Elon Musk before the shoot. And yet… the fashion world is begging for more, and we don’t know why.
Never has the LVMH Prize shone a light on undeniable talents designers capable of bringing a singular vision to the fashion industry. Today, it seems that this award has become nothing more than a marketing springboard for self-proclaimed creators, where craftsmanship takes a backseat and concept prevails over couture. The selection of the Berlin-based duo Ottolinger is a case in point a brand determined to prove that banality can be labeled as “avant-garde,” as long as it is wrapped in a pretentious rhetoric not of Ariadne’s thread, but of Buzz.
During the last Fashion Week, Ottolinger presented a collection so lackluster that it went unnoticed. A biker jacket in felted wool bonded with scuba fabric a concept that aims to be hybrid but never moves beyond workshop experimentation. Mesh-printed deconstructed dresses soulless variations of a trend exhausted to the core. Overdyed jeans with flipped pockets revealing the original denim a cutout game as revolutionary as a poorly stitched hem. None of this makes a couturier.
The real tragedy is that behind these lukewarm experiments lie the true artisans of fashion: the skilled seamstresses who will never leave the great houses, those who, in the shadows, uphold a craftsmanship that designers like Ottolinger reduce to a mere communication tool. Craftsmanship, tailoring, the precision of a perfect drape these are no longer priorities, replaced by hazy concepts that mask a technical void.
In the shadow of centuries of fashion, a glimmer lingers from the 80s, a prince of fabrics for a stylist’s dream and Irishman Sean McGir with the eyes of McQueen the superb interprets it, blending the sublime with the reverence of BrandeBourg chiselled on ceremonial drapes. Light and shade, delicate velvet and whispers of ancient battles, in their gold braids, the past trembles, when an angel appears with his groin wings and duchess satin. Continue reading
After transforming Balenciaga into a temple of chic streetwear (or chic in jogging pants, depending on the style), Demna is packing her bags to take over as artistic director of Gucci. Her mission? To revive the Italian fashion house with ever bolder ideas. In other words, to make new things out of old, but at a higher price.
‘Demna will bring something exceptional to Gucci,’ said Gucci CEO Stefano Cantino, looking serious and inspired in front of an army of journalists. Translation: let’s hope he can sell sneakers with holes in them and bags that look like bin liners, but with Gucci branding.
The announcement came as a bombshell in the luxury microcosm, but had already been announced on Canal-luxe.com two months ago, and the musical chairs are endless. Matthieu Blazy at Chanel? Jonathan Anderson at Dior? Donatella Versace on holiday at last?
But back to Gucci. The brand is desperate to recapture its former glory, since the exuberant era of Alessandro Michele came to an end in 2022, leaving behind a baroque wardrobe and a rollercoaster turnover.
Miu Miu, a little-awaited moment to imagine the version of the woman in disguise for the long-gone ‘Uta de Ballenstedt’. However, will Miuccia serve us? The front row was filled with a cheerful kermesse, from a cowgirl in a swimming costume to an army of schoolgirls in pleated skirts ready for their first Manga playground.
But this season, the retro woman is back, with her hair ‘brushed’ like a Manniatis salon, granny pins and underwired bras sculpting the silhouette as if the 1950s were the new Madmen cool. The return of the good old conical bra, an icon of exaggerated femininity, revived in the 80s by Madonna and ‘Jean Paul Gaulé’, already copied from Elsa Schiaparelli, and today by Millennials fascinated by everything that preceded their birth. Nothing’s the same as it used to be! Nor afterwards.
Of course, one might ask: why put yourself in this oppressive armour again at a time when women’s rights are being undermined? But let’s not be a killjoy. Young people are crazy about vintage, from skirt suits to clip-on earrings and the fashionable ‘tradwife’ trend. As one designer I met this week said, in despair over her nostalgic offspring: ‘Everything my children wear is vintage’. Well, as long as they don’t ask for a chastity belt, everything’s fine.
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The brand with the two ‘C’ calls on us to dream, and in these troubled times, that might even be our ultimate means of escape. It’s just a shame that the escape in question takes place in ‘Loubou-slot’ heels in a setting that evokes a baroque nightmare that Marie-Antoinette on LSD would not disavow.
Here we are, plunging headfirst into the world of the tale that is not Monte Cristo. Mind you, not the one in which princesses find Prince Charming. No, here we’re talking about the one where the heroine gets lost in a forest haunted by expensive coins, populated by bimbos frozen in enigmatic poses around a black bow, and a giant ribbon that seems to be shouting: ‘Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to shake’ – a real BDSM story.
As Matthieu Blazy prepares to take over the reins of the company, the Studio is playing last of the class in terms of applied design, with an ultra-mastered collection. Too controlled, perhaps. By controlling everything, you end up with a wardrobe that makes you want to have fun at a gala dinner with Philippine, the Queen of the Suburbs.
The impeccable silhouettes flirt with the grandiose and the absurd, pearls so big they could almost be used as seats on the terrace of the Dior café. And because you can never have too many useless gadgets, Chanel has created a mini-bag version of the pearl, capable of holding just one credit card. Continue reading
Demna in pointy high heels with a denim pencil skirt and a tight white shirt accented by a corset that laced up the back. A maze of tall black curtains sheltering tightly packed rows of chairs, blacker than Donald Trump’s brain.Aside from the low-tech, fluffy shoes and a few skimpy spandex “bathrobes,” this collection saw Demna treading water with his familiar sartorial archetypes across streetwear, tailoring, and special-occasion wear, albeit with more controlled volumes.
The designer called his collection “Standard,” so the Standard-branded T-shirts were crudely cut into the kind of barely-there gym tops bodybuilders wear.
On the other side, a hoodie was extended into a flared monastic dress, a silhouette echoed in a series of wool and faux fur coats with face-framing collars and futuristic vibes. A white double-face cashmere coat with an integrated scarf collar evokes the understated luxury that Demna usually rebels against.
Hold on to your Stetson, Schiaparelli’s cowboy sheriff-in-chief Daniel Roseberry is determined to stay in the saddle. Having already pulled off the chic western trick last year, the Texan designer is back with a rawer version of the genre: hammered leather like rodeo chaps, shearling jackets worthy of a trapper escaped from a Scorsese film, and XXL buckle belts worn…
But the big revolution this season isn’t the overdose of accessories, but the switch from gold to copper at seven thousand euros a kilo. Yes, this noble and under-appreciated material which, in burnished chic mode, gives a satin dress the charm of an old copper pot and transforms a pair of pearl pyjamas into an involuntary homage to the drainpipe of an old bathtub belonging to the Duchess of Châtelet. A daring choice or a shortage of gilding in the workshops? It’s a mystery.
Whatever the case, Roseberry is making a radical departure from its ultra-corseted Haute Couture collection of January. A change that, according to him, has nothing to do with feminist awareness. No, no, he bristles at the idea that the corset was designed to appeal to men. We can therefore imagine that he designed it above all to enable women to better store their floating ribs on the side. A pure act of ergonomic design. No ?
The title of Off-White’s fall show? “State of Resistance”. A bold name for a brand long celebrated for championing the Black community under the visionary leadership of the late, great Virgil Abloh. But times have changed since Abloh’s passing in 2021, and these days, designers are a little more hesitant to turn the runway into a soapbox.
Not Ibrahim Kamara, though. He’s here to remind us that community spirit and inclusive vision are still stitched into Off-White’s DNA. In today’s world, that might seem radical. Controversial, even. But really, isn’t it just about remembering how to exist alongside other humans without losing your style?
Kamara’s vision? Imagine Mars-style leather suits with varsity-style letters spelling out OO (Off-White? Or just Ooooh?). Biker jackets morphed into aerodynamic overcoats, while parkas and matching shorts featured just enough utility details to make you feel prepared for… whatever life throws at you.
There were also nods to tradition classic uniforms reimagined with ribbed panels and bold graphics inspired by the star and eagle from Ghana’s national emblem.
Under the golden dome of an ancient temple, Where dreams are adorned with divine fabrics, A ballet of shadows and lights awakens, The curtain rises on a hymn to textiles.
With a white thread, the past whispers to the lapels, A masculine coat, austere and sculptural, Opens in cadence on the velvet of a dream, A dress undressed, draped in mystery.
The colors rise like fiery notes, Burnt orange, deep purple, eternal black, The silhouettes soar, chiseled and free, Capelines hemmed with a thread of desire. Jackets curl up in protective cocoons, While belts embrace the waist, Closing with one gesture the promise of the evening, Opening with another on a shiver of audacity.
Sharpened legs, undone buttons, Freedom runs under the caressing fabric.The wind clings to ethereal blouses, the silks whisper forgotten stories, the tips stretch, the seams sing, a fabric opera, an ode to the ephemeral.