Warning! I’m about to go through a hippie phase. I’ve got the meditation app, I’m desperate for a poncho (but this Pendleton blanket will do for now) and I’m besotted with these shearling-lined Birkenstocks.
Never wanted Birkies before, now can’t think of anything else. (more…)
The Hermes-ification of Lacoste starts here.
Louise Trotter thwacked the ball clean out of the court (or whatever the correct tennis terminology is – frankly I haven’t a clue) in her Lacoste creative director debut at Paris Fashion Week.
Having come from Joseph, there were shades of her relaxed, gentlewomanly aesethetic, with a sporty twist. My standouts were the superb outerwear, all the leathers, plus the camel and oxblood drawstring bags. (more…)
Funny isn’t it, how quickly one adapts. In one season the media and public have flipped from hating Hedi’s take on Celine to kind of loving it.
When Hedi Slimane showed his first vision of new Celine, Phoebe Philo’s fan club were bereft. They swarmed to Vestiaire Collective to buy up whatever Phoebe-era #oldceline bags and shoes they could get their hands on, freaking out that her conceptual-lite aesthetic had been obliterated by evil Hedi in place of – the horror! – generic luxury tropes of the sort he’d previously produced at Saint Laurent.
Six months later though, they’ve calmed down and come round. (more…)
This felt like an extremely polished London Fashion Week. Roksanda, JW Anderson, Victoria Beckham and particularly Mary Katrantzou showed mature, slick collections that nailed their individual DNAs. And while you expect the newbies to be a bit scrappier in their presentation, they too were impressively coherent.
I was blown away by Matty Bovan, who, assisted by Katie Grand’s crack styling team and a helping hand from Coach, delivered a super-sophisticated spectacle reminiscent of Westwood or Galliano. His USP is a very British artsy-craftsy take on knitwear that was bricolaged with crochet, ruffles and Liberty-print florals (more…)
