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While not exactly groundbreaking, Carolina Herrera Spring 2025 Ready-To-Wear makes the case for heirloom beauty. With a mostly black-and-white collection that moves from flat colors to embroidered and lace detailing to polka dots to houndstooth to pops of pink, red, cornflower blue, and yellow, Carolina Herrera Spring/Summer 2025 sticks to blossoming femininity. The giant roses as bustiers were only one way in which the hyperfeminine brand reinterpreted florals: bejeweled pieces with flower-shaped gems, floral lace, and prints with flowers of varying sizes were in store.  The collection featured a lot of interesting silhouettes that added sophistication that can be at risk of getting lost among the flowers. Ballooned sleeves and tailored, angular cut-outs made for a sleek and sexy collection. Pockets on floor-length dresses catered to the “ And it has pockets!” crowd. And even the clothes without florals came with giant flowers adorning models’ hair. Or with statement earrings.  A strapless black dress bejeweled with flowers of blue petals, green stems, and white centers, paired with matching earrings, stole the show. It evokes everything the Carolina Herrera brand speaks to: dazzling femininity, classy sophistication, and a certain level of playfulness.  Nevertheless, Wes Gordon decided to include several prom-dress-shaped gowns in the collection: very fitted at the top and A-lined towards the floor, with the models appearing wrapped in yellow or red tulle, decorated with tiny beads of a matching color. While not necessarily ugly, these additions took away from the potential chic factor of the collection. As part of Ready-To-Wear, perhaps they are conceptualized as exactly that — the prom dresses heiresses across major world capitals will purchase come springtime. These women, however, seem too young to be the daughters of the matriarchs the other clothes cater to. This collection carried some freshness that can be challenging for an established brand like Carolina Herrera. But while some pieces were refined and mature, others were too youthful. At this point, Carolina Herrera could be described as an heirloom brand. But “heirloom” could be synonymous with “grandma.” Lots of efforts were made to bring the brand to 2024, and, well — some missed the mark.  🌀 7.3 Laura Rocha-Rueda  is a Colombian fashion and fiction writer based in Brooklyn who holds a Creative Writing MFA from The New School. She is your local Swiftie and will gladly chat about anything glittery and soft, and about why dismissing pop culture as frivolous is misguided and sad.

“Memories of Joy” took the tasteful, easy allure that the brand has fostered all these years and doused it in celebration. 3.1 Phillip Lim rang in 20 years with a collection set on revering the past. Titled “Memories of Joy,” Lim used SS25 to turn around and look at how far he had come.  “Joy is where it all started for me. The joy of moving to NYC on a whim, the joy of crafting the first trouser and the crooning of elation from first wear,” he said in an Instagram post . “I have been reflecting upon these early memories of joy as of late, perhaps an innate push against the present, complicated world and my desire to find my way back.” When you really think about it, 3.1 Phillip Lim will always be tethered to its start, when Lim and Wen Zhou founded the brand at age 31. But namesake side, 3.1 has always known who it is and who it’s for. “The everyday hero,” to be exact, is how Lim describes his eternal muse. This hero was wholly present on Sunday evening, sensible in her choice of loose tailoring and comfortable sandals but uncompromising in her commitment to chicness.  Rather than assembling uniform looks, Lim paired together clashing styles: camo patched jorts and a delicate sheer lace appliqué blouse, a skirt made of dozens of rhinestone tassels and an oversized beige work shirt. The mélange of styles leant to the “nonlinear” and “fragmented” nature of memories that Lim wanted to convey. Ephemera was also ingested into the set design: massive, translucent, blurred panels that models of various ages snaked around.   Lim also mix-matched within individual pieces, setting acid wash denim, netting, and eyelash fringe against satins and chiffons. Movement, however, was not lost under heavier fabrics or oversized graphic tees.* Lim’s long-standing aversion to stiffness was reinforced by long strips of fabric and effortless draping. As models slipped around the corner of the panels, the remains of the garments wavered behind its hero for a moment before disappearing with her. This was best exemplified in Look 42 and the penultimate Look 50, two dramatic milky-white outfits. The latter was a near-spitting image of 3.1's SS07 collection, a palimpsest of a Phillip Lim throughout the ages — and a splendid way to end the show. “Memories of Joy” took the tasteful, easy allure that the brand has fostered all these years and doused it in celebration. Save a few amiss neons and rhinestone accents, it worked. Being consumer-forward has always been a priority, especially when Lim and Zhou were just starting out. Now, 20 years later, 3.1 can have a little fun and still find a way to be practical – and beautiful.  🌀 7.6 *The celebration was dampened only slightly days later by accusatory statements from Girls Don’t Cry founder VERDY, who felt that Lim’s SS25 graphic tees were more than just similar, but direct copies of VERDY's work, referring to Lim as “uncreative and lazy.” Similarities aside, it’s worth clarifying that Lim is anything but.  Sophia Scorziello  is a freelance writer from Connecticut who misses living in Los Angeles. Follow her on Twitter  for unsolicited takes and Spotify links.

" It’s cruel to compare a designer’s most recent work to what they produced 30 years ago, but it’s natural to feel nostalgic for a period — before I was even born — when the brand felt more balanced." Anna Sui is a designer who has consistently churned out reliable and brand-aligned collections since her debut in 1991. Last season, her New York Fashion Week show took place in the rare book room inside the East Village’s Strand Bookstore, where models donned grungy tweeds, knits, and sequins against the backdrop of aged hardcovers with gilded spines. This season, however, the brand opted to postpone their Spring/Summer show to later this fall, when their five new fragrances launch, inviting critics and customers to the New York City showroom in lieu of a traditional presentation. Andy Warhol’s early floral illustrations (think pre-Campbell’s soup can) were a main point of reference for Sui’s newest collection, with heavy emphasis on delicate floral motifs. This is a completely different art style than most are used to when thinking of the legendary pop artist, but it’s led to something that felt different, but not necessarily fresh, for the brand. Headscarves and candy-colored cat eye sunglasses make this collection look straight out of a Slim Aarons photograph. The Anna Sui women have ditched their autumn suedes and argyle knee-high socks, instead sporting terry cloth sundresses and pastel stockings. Tropical prints and stripes are layered beneath teal jacquard jackets and silk bombers. Cutesy collared shirts have matching cardigans and mini skirts. Patent leather kitten heels in rosy pink, butter yellow, and pure white have miniature flower bouquets affixed to bow details. A gray gingham sundress with a pilgrim collar is a trendy mix of the OG Sui grunge crossed with the inevitable takeover of sundresses come springtime. A staple of the brand are graphic logo t-shirts which have been layered beneath off-the-shoulder dresses and silk slips in this collection. Delicate tulle skirts are a great layering piece but not functional to wear on their own — unless you find yourself in the South of France (think nude beaches). Silk trousers and shirt sets are printed with vacation postcard classics like seashells, hibiscus flowers, and a large cursive “Florida,” which enters tacky territory. The print also appears in baby blue on bandeau tops, pleated skirts, and an open-front dress. It’s overwhelming, to say the least. Followed by more florals (which I would not consider tastefully delicate) and flower boutonnieres, a few looks are a bit of a mess, but the chaos is familiar. The brand’s traditional maximalist styling results in a Spring/Summer collection that fuses coastal grandpa (matching button-up short sleeve-and-short sets and straw fedoras) with his tween granddaughter (pink, gingham, ruffles, and even more pink).  Some pieces I adored were tailored capris with a green-and-black olive print, a classic white leather cropped trench, and a belted black-and-white t-shirt dress that made a floral wallpaper pattern really work. Anna Sui has never been afraid of prints, textures, or layering. In fact, it’s the brand’s DNA, and can be traced back to her ‘90s debut. However, Vogue Runway has started uploading catwalk archives from decades ago, and I recently found myself doom-scrolling through some of Anna Sui’s first collections, completely fawning over her earliest creations. I love that she repeats the same materials and silhouettes over the years, like sheer lace, oversized collars, puffy sleeves, and yes, excessive layering.  It’s cruel to compare a designer’s most recent work to what they produced 30 years ago, but it’s natural to feel nostalgic for a period — before I was even born — when the brand felt more balanced. A period when a knit bonnet, tank top, metallic jacket, mini skirt, and leg warmers in three different patterns were followed by a simple slip dress (that just so happened to be worn by Kate Moss. Like I said, different time period). Anna Sui is charming and a tad kitschy, yet still, a constant New York figure who continues to evolve without abandoning the essence of its origins.🌀 6.5 Jane Lewis is HALOSCOPE's Runway Editor based in New York City. She grew up on farms in Southern California but now she always  matches her shoes to her bag.

For SS25, LaQuan Smith tackles the power of animalistic glamour. Flamboyant. Edgy yet sleek. And pure sex appeal. These are the words I would describe LaQuan Smith — the Queens-born designer who is never afraid to translate his personality directly into his designs. Set fittingly in a graffitied warehouse in Bushwick, Smith presented his Spring 2025 collection this past week with a purr. Inspired by “ animalist glamour ” this season, the collection features a well-balanced safari-inspired color palette. Khaki isn’t just khaki; it’s paired with chocolate browns and lots of lace, made into an absolutely tantalizing transparent trench coat worn by Winnie Harlow (Smith credits this technique to his Italian mills).  Smith certainly knows how to play with textures to keep his audience on their toes. Highlights of this 50-look collection include rich indigo denim dresses and suits; bridal latex; and glamorous sleepwear in collaboration with Samsung’s Galaxy ring to which he gifted all of his seated attendees.  Smith’s designs don’t steer far away from having a particular type of high-powered, mature woman in mind. As such, his label is a huge hit with celebrities like Kim Kardashian, Lady Gaga, Rihanna, and Beyoncé (need I say more?). While the themes are fresh, Smith seems to rely on the same silhouettes, cutouts, and styling season after season. I suppose some can say if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but I think Smith could dare to take his signature sex-appeal to the next level with thoughtful, elegant, yet erotic curves and details.🌀 7.2 Niya Doyle is a forever East Coast-based writer, beauty buff, and cat lover.

Gorgeous pieces, but the collection missed the shock factor we have come to love. Diotima Spring/Summer 2025 Ready-To-Wear blends urban needs with Caribbean fantasies. A collection throughlined by crochet leaf-shaped cutouts, earthy tones, and thoughtful bedazzling, it thinks of what a New York customer might crave to create a fun yet practical outfit. Thick fishnet textures call forth the sea: Jamaican Rachel Scott does not make the connection to the Caribbean too literal but rather reminds us that the devil is in the details.  Silver and gold sequins along the hem of a gray dress and around a generous side cutout appear like scales of magical fish, perhaps mermaid tails. And, in fact, the looks evoke a certain mythical quality of the mermaid. The collection seems to explore: what would a mermaid wear if she found herself strutting on the New York City streets?  With angular button-up vests broken up by crochet cutouts and reinterpretations of classic office wear, like a white collared shirt or a gray blazer, the collection seems to do the impossible — taking the boring out of corporate. A sober color palette keeps the focus on the golden beading detailing and the way the fabric drapes on the model’s body. The mermaid-esque effect is completed by a pirate blouse paired with a silver fishnet crochet skirt and a maxi dress that looks like the model has draped herself in an abandoned boat sail — yet magically looks fabulous and fitted, complete with lace detailing that looks like sea foam from crashing waves.  Diotima collections regularly tend toward the poetic, prioritizing the season’s chosen concepts and the art of fashion over whatever is trending on TikTok. This collection seems biased towards the wearable, which makes sense for a brand that has finally found its voice. The dark wide-legged jeans with crochet leafy cutouts down the sides are the kind of piece we can expect to see everywhere on a walk down Soho. But past collections have had more of a shock factor, which made this one come across as more quiet — and almost subdued.  🌀 7.0 Laura Rocha-Rueda  is a Colombian fashion and fiction writer based in Brooklyn who holds a Creative Writing MFA from The New School. She is your local Swiftie and will gladly chat about anything glittery and soft, and about why dismissing pop culture as frivolous is misguided and sad.

The Gorey Girl’s mum told her to bring a coat and she did not listen. You would be forgiven if you’ve grown tired of the “indie sleaze” whispers circulating in fashion spaces for a while now. Luckily, there is nothing tired about Sinead Gorey’s Spring/Summer 2025 collection. Drawing heavily from the days of yesteryear, Gorey’s collection is nostalgia done right.   Set in The City of London School’s gymnasium, decked out for a classic British prom, the setting for the runway is so brilliantly executed you can almost smell the smuggled vodka. The pre-show room is drenched in hot-pink lighting and the floor is scattered with crushed paper cups and trampled confetti. A thumping bass line, courtesy of Scarlet Gorey, acts as the score for bratty attitudinal walks, wearing the newly re-released Converse XXHi.   On the show notes “the Gorey girl” is described as a prom “Anti-Heroine," who skips the prom, electing to head straight for the after-party. Gorey says she picked the prom setting as “Prom is that time in your life when you’re finally finding your style, so I wanted to recreate that using luxury shapes and constructions.” The South London designer draws on all aspects of this occasion, from school uniform blouses in butter yellow and blue pinstripe to draped jersey dresses resembling hoodies wrapped around waists on the walk home, after sleeping on the floor of your best friend’s bedroom. The Gorey Girl’s mum told her to bring a coat and she did not  listen.   The SS25 collection features less of the classic Brit-Punk details previously seen in Gorey’s work –— Union Jacks, pins, and tartan — leaning instead on a pattern described as “Hacienda-esque stripes” in faded neon shades paired with heather grey or black. The colour palette has softened from previous collections and is both elevated and garish — sherbet pastels, royal blue, and warning-sign red.   There are some more classic takes on “the prom dress," but the more subversive Gorey’s anti-heroine looks, the better. A black pyramid-studded bikini reads true to inspiration. The outerwear and heavier knits are particularly well done. A graphic jacket pairs pigeon grey and crisp white UV-reactive leather. A tailored horizontally striped blue and grey co-ord set reads as surprisingly demure from the front, next to Gorey’s signature sheer cut-out rave wear, but turns to reveal a high-cut cheek. Powdery and creamy coloured knits are studded with curved barbell piercings, which I personally hope becomes a new signature of Gorey's. Some lingering coquette details, trailing satin ribbons in hair, and printed corsetting ties the collection into a larger story.   The accessories are waggish and divine, thanks to styling by Gorey and Rhiannon Lagden. A lacy white bra juts over a striped and pierced tube dress, a baby-pink phone tucked into the strap. Glow in the dark stars are stickered up calves. Tattoo appliqués are un-tastefully revealed. Crimped, curled, and coiled up-dos. A diamanté garter. The makeup, by Aoife Cullen, veers between youthfully bare-faced and black, or muted electric blue, kohl-rimmed eyes. The sprinkle lips brought a nostalgic tear to my eye and I particularly enjoyed the faux XXHi’s consisting of low-top Converse and printed knee-high socks. And, of course, an array of candy-coloured wired headphones adorn various pouting models.   Some garments unfortunately fall flatter. A bustled take on Gorey’s corset dress could’ve been a highlight but ends up feeling more like an afterthought, especially in comparison to a similar dress from FW24. Yet it shows promise, and I’m hoping to see further Gorey takes on this silhouette. And although I’m never opposed to a super-micro miniskirt, I would’ve appreciated any exposed underwear to match the collection.   Between well-tailored mini shorts and buttoned denim, cowl necks, lace corset work and ombré prints, Gorey proves her technical ability as well as creative vision. More stand-out pieces include a candy-striped tailored tube dress ending with a puffy skirt. A backless baggy-sleeved minidress in red and black stripes. And a blue and grey striped hooded minidress with a trailing skirt.   Small and large details make it clear that the SS25 collection is truly inspired by the fashion of Gorey’s own youth. (I must also commend the casting, by Marie Claire, which brings this collection to life.) More than anything, the collection feels like a fresh and fully-realised take on a previously vague discourse-laden concept that has been on everyone’s lips. Most evidenced by the fact that I left the show, not mainly thinking, “Wow, those were the times," but more impressed by Gorey’s innovative garments, and excited to see what Gorey brings to the drinks table next. 🌀 8.0 Olivia Linnea Rogers  is a Norwegian-British writer, fringe enthusiast, film watcher, and poet, if you're lucky. Based in London. She can obviously be found online on   Instagram  (@olivialinnearogers) and   Twitter  (@olivialinrogers).

What a healthy dose of buyer’s remorse reveals about current consumer habits. I recently read Jessica Bruder’s Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century. It is an impressive piece of journalism that interweaves the narratives of retirement-age individuals who, failed by the American economy during the Great Recession, discover the freedom of the vagrant RV lifestyle. As I devoured Bruder’s affecting words, I asked myself two questions. Could I live like this, always on the move, my only worldly possessions a vehicle and anything that could fit inside of it? And would I be happier if I owned less? I pondered how many RVs I would need to comfortably fit all of my clothes, shoes, skincare items, knickknacks, electronic devices, et cetera. One would be impossible. Two would be a tight squeeze. I continued to reflect — is physically having enough space for abundance a good enough reason to own an abundance of things? Ever since I can remember, I have suffered from buyer’s remorse; a dull depression that washes away the excitement of any purchase. Whether I am buying for myself or for others, more often than not, I leave the store, or close the virtual checkout tab, feeling like I did something wrong. Ridding myself of what I don’t need almost always feels better than gaining something superfluous. And buyer’s remorse isn’t a unique experience. I’ve spoken to countless friends who undergo the same dreary dilemma: if I love clothes — or shoes, or jewelry, or home decor, or fancy condiments, whatever your vice might be — then why does shopping make me feel like shit? Finding an exact definition of “buyer’s remorse” is complicated. A quick Google search spawns a compilation of sketchy-looking links: mostly banks and marketing companies offering advice on how to “get over it” and “break the cycle.” According to the Cambridge Dictionary , buyer’s remorse is simply “a feeling of regret after making a choice or decision.” Using this definition, the phenomenon is not exclusive to shopping. It also encompasses, for instance, the experience of leaving a polling place and feeling like you voted for the wrong candidate.  The throughline is cognitive dissonance: a state of discomfort that occurs when a person’s behavior and beliefs conflict with each other. For example, I am passionate about sustainable fashion. I buy most of my clothes secondhand and prioritize brands known for ethical manufacturing processes. But sometimes, Free People releases a barrel jean that feels irresistible, or an Edikted sale feels too good to pass up. By purchasing from these brands, I’m going against my values. The result is contrition. Even when I am staying true to my belief in sustainable consumption by shopping secondhand, I am still vulnerable to the compunction of spontaneous purchases. Re-donating something you bought from Goodwill is not a good feeling.  There are endless hypothetical situations in which shopping can reveal a piece of yourself that you don’t identify with. A spontaneous purchase combats thoughtful decision-making, a microtrend contests with a timeless wardrobe, an ugly sweater wrestles good style. For a litany of specific and personal reasons, remorse sets in when we feel a lack of control. For some people, this feeling can be inhibiting. On Reddit, one anonymous user posted that, without any financial constraints, they spend full days beating themselves up over any purchase greater than $50. Multiple people responded to the thread warning the user that this behavior is unhealthy. I’m no psychologist, but they’re probably right.   Others responded with empathy. Someone under the username “workana” commented, “You work to live and enjoy life, not to sit on a hoard of money that does not have any inherent value of its own.” Is workana right? If you’re lucky enough to not only survive off of your earnings but to enjoy excess, shouldn’t you be able to do that sans guilt? Buyer’s remorse isn’t a new phenomenon. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (the free version), the earliest recorded use of the term is from The Post-Standard  in 1951. Without getting too historical, or reneging on my loyalty to Merriam-Webster, it makes sense that regretful shopping began around that time. After the second World War and the Great Depression, America experienced a stark rise in spending power. Citizens were encouraged to spend in an effort to support the country’s then-booming economy. The first suburb was created in 1946, and as people moved out of cities and into suburban homes, they purchased cars, televisions, refrigerators, Tupperware. In a 2021 Vox article , Juliet Schor, a sociologist at Boston College, explained that as machines began pumping out all kinds of objects, social hierarchies became characterized by how much one could consume. “Increases in inequality trigger what I’ve called ‘competitive consumption,’” Schor says. “The idea that we spend because we’re comparing ourselves with our peers and what they’re spending.” In the 20th century, “competitors” were friends, neighbors and perhaps famous people on television. Today, a competitor can be literally anyone, anywhere. Social media is flooded with images and videos of lavish vacations, shopping sprees, exclusive events, and unrealistic lifestyles. Influencers get paid to flaunt their consumption in a campaign to encourage laypeople to buy more things. And shopping is easier than ever. All you need is access to wi-fi and credit card information to order anything from a vibrator to a Tesla Model X. If Schor’s theory of “competitive consumption” is intrinsic, it is unquestionable that today’s levels of comparison and competition are heightened by social media and online shopping. While the experience of shopping has become less intimate — no need for human interaction or tangible money — it isn’t less personal. Sure, today one could survive and thrive without ever entering a brick-and-mortar store, but brands still rely on connection, just in a modern form. Through digital marketing and complex algorithms, we are specifically targeted with relevant products. It is not uncommon that, when someone purchases something from an Instagram ad, it is a product they’ve interacted with many times, either through the brand directly, through influencer marketing, or simply through interacting with mutuals on social media.  While there is a calculated operation to get the right products in front of the right people via the right screens, companies are also content when you’re trigger-happy. To ensure a seamless user experience, the boundaries to online shopping are near nonexistent. There is no virtual retail assistant asking if you’d like to wait for those shoes to go on sale next month, or if you’re sure that’s the best color for your skin tone.  According to a study on the repercussions of in-app shopping  by a student at the University of Tennessee, the influence of peer pressure is more detrimental than the method of shopping. It creates the feeling of not being in control of your decisions which leads to negative emotions. So, is buyer's remorse something we should try to resolve? Barring extenuating cases, like the Reddit user who can’t buy anything without extreme guilt or someone on the opposite end of the spectrum who recklessly spends themselves into debt and feels nothing, is a healthy dose of buyer’s remorse something we can benefit from? The discomfort of cognitive dissonance motivates us to make decisions that will reduce feelings of dissonance in the future. And it’s easier to change inconsistent behaviors than it is to change your core beliefs.  Though buyer’s remorse is objectively a modern problem, perhaps its origins are primitive. Could that twinge of guilt be a calling from our ancestors, warning us that all of this stuff is holding us back, that we have a better chance of survival if we carry light? Maybe it’s our innate connection to nature reminding us that overconsumption is the root of global warming and human injustice.  That doesn’t insinuate that people who don’t experience buyer’s remorse are incompassionate toward exploitative labor and environmental destruction. For some people, shopping is just more emotional than for others. That also doesn’t mean that the solution to buyer’s remorse is to stop shopping altogether. Being human today is about so much more than survival. It is about experience, indulgence, self-expression, individuality. Maybe buyer’s remorse is just something we have to learn to be comfortable with, allowing it to keep us grounded while not letting it completely inhibit our modern lives.  Many of the people Bruder wrote about didn’t choose to live like nomads. They were forced to sell their homes and their excess possessions. But, over time, many became happy with their lifestyle, content with minimalism and the freedom that accompanied it. Excess can mean a mansion, a flashy car, a pantry stocked with every snack imaginable and a designer closet. But it also means having a choice. Having the freedom to live however you want to live. The fact that we experience buyer’s remorse demonstrates that just because we can doesn’t mean we should. And it tells me that, though I don’t have to, if I were to downsize and live in Nomadland, I would be okay. 🌀 Julia Gordon is a budding journalist based in Chicago, and sometimes South Florida. She is obsessed with finding the perfect pair of baggy jeans and geeks out over curating hyper-specific Spotify playlists. She covers all things fashion and personal style on her own Substack   Wear it Well .

For WHO DECIDES WAR SS25, Ev Bravado and Tela D’Amore embrace the Victorian. On Saturday afternoon, I was amidst a crowd of beautiful and stylish Black creatives to view the WHO DECIDES WAR livestream party hosted by Complex. Attendees sported their best looks — holding monogram bags from Dooney & Bourke and Coach, wearing Comme des Garçons trench coats — and lounged with small designers, who toted their own streetwear labels. This conglomeration of brands emphasized the impact WHO DECIDES WAR’s co-founders, Ev Bravado and Tela D’Amore, bring to the culture of New York City. It highlighted the grassroots, entrepreneurial spirit of these creatives who work hard, day in and day out, to carve a place for themselves in a city that can move at incredible speed — where the next trend can be as easily forgotten as just as quickly it rose. A staple in the hip-hop community worn by the likes of Ice Spice  and Boogie Wit Da Hoodie , WDW aims to redefine Americana through the lens of people of color. You can’t get more American than with denim, which is precisely the brand's couture of choice in previous collections. But the Spring 2025 collection took quite a turn from that. The theme of this season’s show was to explore  “ various elements of fundamental 19th-century fabrications and utilizing humble textiles that have now become heritage Americana fabrics,”  revealed the designers in their show notes . Aptly set in Hall des Lumières, supermodel Alton Mason opened the runway in a creamy ruffled Victorian-esque knit sweater with bits of lace embedded through each layer.  The iconic recurring cathedral motif made an appearance but in a new, ingenious way. Look 2 features a single-buttoned, vanilla cardigan fashioned in such a way as to make the arches fall naturally above the midriff. Similarly in Look 12, an opulent, gradient, and subtly bedazzled men’s suit, cathedral windows are tastefully tailored on either side of the jacket. But the real stars of the men’s collection were the bomber leather jackets in collaboration with Pelle Pelle. The back of the jackets displayed portraits of historical Black American figures such as Barack Obama, Malcolm X., and Frederick Douglass.  The women’s collection didn’t disappoint, either. The designers took a dynamic approach to denim this season by ripping, destroying, and bleaching the fabric to create an elegant maxi skirt with a matching one-shoulder draped top. Leather black belts were bandaged together to create a beautiful strapless gown. It pleases me to see the highbrow textiles of Victorian-era elites conveyed through a Black lens. The style itself is revered and continuously replicated in fashion and pop culture, but usually errs on the side of Eurocentricity. To have Black designers create a show tacking such an era is a fusion of two histories that have left an everlasting mark on American culture. 🌀 7.7 Niya Doyle is a forever East Coast-based writer, beauty buff, and cat lover.

The Winter House captivates by centering personality and craftsmanship in their LFW exhibit. At The Winter House SS25 exhibit, a projected low-res video of two jittery flies welcomes you. Entering through an ajar door you become privy to the gothic-inspired cave that is creative director Liam Winter’s fine jewellery vision.   Ambient music envelopes the room with the occasional sound of buzzing flies filtering in. Joining the soundscape is the whir of a jewellery drill bit, as Winter himself is sat in the middle of the room, at a worktable, polishing and refining pieces in the collection, in real-time, for onlookers. The pieces from the SS25 collection are suspended around the dark room on models of (I assume) Winter’s own hands, in a deep charcoal colour and texture. The pieces truly shine in this setting, some even gently glowing.   The Winter House, which is presented by the British Fashion Council’s New-Gen Initiative, describes itself as “based on the fringes of the city,” taking creative cues from “what is often overlooked – a cracked pavement, an overgrown alley, the hazy glow of streetlamps reflected in the rain.” The SS25 collection carries that same message, acting as a dispatch from the corners of urban life. This ethos of transformation and repurposing is not only present in concept but material, as the pieces are crafted from recycled silver, sourced within London. If I were to guess what overlooked corner of the city inspired this particular collection, I would guess the hidden alleyways where pub workers take their late-night cigarette breaks — featuring buzzing flies, cracked concrete, and traditional symbols, like crosses and fair maidens, on dilapidated or glowing street signs.   Winter seeks to explore ”themes of mortality through metal” and has previously taken on anatomical and natural designs (notably the Love Me Not Ring and Sorrow Signet). But this newest collection conveys wounds and decay more acutely. A classic cross necklace consists of silver flies gathered over cascading blood-red rubies. More silver flies are huddled in the hollow of a signet ring, reminding one of a wound.   Although the collection is highly conceptual it's far from gimmick. The designs are powerful yet streamlined — rarely oversized for oversized’s sake — allowing intricate details, like Winter’s signature “splinters,” to take centre stage. Everything feels considered.   Other stand out pieces include a “living” ornate ring featuring the tranquil face of a young sleeping woman, hair tendrils wrapping around the ring — reminiscent of a mermaid on a pirate ship — which opens with a latch to reveal her skull. And a simple chain carrying a bejewelled engagement-esque ring, also featuring Winters signature splinters crested on the inside, telling a short but familiar story, and bringing to mind the beads of blood that would be drawn were you to attempt wearing it.   Most considered is Winter’s presence throughout the whole exhibit, from his actual physical presence to the hand models. It all sends a clear message of the man at the centre of the operation and what takes up his time — a clear artistic vision, dedicated values and excellent craftsmanship. The Winter House endeavours to emphasise the living quality of its jewellery and does so successfully by highlighting the real human hands behind these dreamlike, yet metropolitan, creations.🌀 7.7 Olivia Linnea Rogers  is a Norwegian-British writer, fringe enthusiast, film watcher, and poet, if you're lucky. Based in London. She can obviously be found online on   Instagram  (@olivialinnearogers) and   Twitter  (@olivialinrogers).

For Coach SS25, relatability isn't enough. The brand transformation of Coach from being one of many purses found at the back of your mom’s closet to being home to one of many it-girl bags worn by influencers and A-Listers, all within a decade, is something that should be studied in fashion history — and it's all thanks to Steven Vevers’ 10-year tenure as the house’s creative director. Vevers’ vision for this collection was a study of American classics interpreted by a newer generation. Set in Manhattan's High Line Park, models walked the runway to upbeat, high school Garageband music. Classic “I Heart NYC” tees were styled with baseball caps and blazers, as seen on Ella Emhoff. Crewneck sweaters were personalized with graffiti-like notes. The neutral color palette of this collection and the relaxed, baggy fit of the clothes signal that perhaps the clothes themselves aren’t the focus, but instead a brazen love letter to Gen Z. Indeed, Vevers’ gambit to cater to a new, bright generation with little care for fashion’s old norms has paid off, according to last quarter’s results, perhaps a little too well. Bag charms and stickers made an appearance, showing that customization isn’t going anywhere. The most exciting part of this collection was the giant coin purses (does Gen Z even use those anymore?). There are a lot of tender memories I have with Coach. My parents were Coach fanatics back in the ‘90s. My father’s shoe rack was full of vintage Coach low-top sneakers, and my mother bought each iteration of Coach bag, from the Regina to the classic monogram flap bag every season. I remember going to a department store for back-to-school shopping in the late aughts, all just to buy a rather uncomfortable pair of ballet flats. We came out of the mall with pride — my mother delighted to pass down her Coach legacy to me. I was just happy that I got a pair of designer shoes. I can’t help but wonder if this brand loyalty from faithful Gen X’rs, like my parents, is the same type of loyalty Vevers is trying to instill in Gen Z.  While Coach is reveling in the fruits of its financial success, playing it safe can only work for so long. Can Vevers continue to innovate and adapt to Ge -Z's ever-changing whims? Or will the brand be left in the dust once more? 🌀 6.5 Niya Doyle is a forever East Coast-based writer, beauty buff, and cat lover.

And left us with a thoughtful approach to fashion, friendship, and familiarity. One of my fondest memories of childhood was sitting around the table at dinner parties watching the adults talk. After they finished a few glasses of wine, my two sisters and I could convince them all to watch our charmingly juvenile fashion show produced and modeled by us, naturally. This is essentially what Eckhaus Latta SS25 was — except, even with the grownups in the spotlight, they were just as willing to succumb to the evening’s surprise theatrics. A few days before the show, Mike Eckhaus and Zoe Latta asked their friends, guests, and show invitees to select their favorite Eckhaus Latta pieces to wear to their fashion week event. When guests arrived at the Tribeca gallery space turned cocktail-and-dinner party, they expected a show. Instead, there were two long rectangular tables with a thin walkway running between them. Soon after the first dinner course began, actress and comedian Kate Berlant grabbed a microphone and announced that the show had started. “If it’s not clear, I hope it’s clear now. Many of you are going to walk… it is not a dinner, it’s a fashion show. It is a dinner, but it is also a fashion show.” As music pounded, attendees began to summon their courage to strut, some more reluctantly than others. Julia Hobbs of  British Vogue  took to the runway, along with Liana Satenstein of Neverworns, Steff Yotka of SSENSE, Samuel Hine of GQ , Dara of Interview  Magazine, our new political princess Ella Emhoff, and even actress Jemima Kirke. While some of these figures may be used to the spotlight, many were not, especially the journalists and writers, some of which were lovingly dragged out of their seats. It was an intimate setting, with around 75 guests, who all cheered and applauded for each other as they pushed out of their comfort zones to show off not only their Eckaus Latta pieces but also themselves. Beka Gvishiani of Style Not Com sat next to Lynn Yaeger but both stayed stuck to their seats along with critic Cathy Horyn (she’s been there, done that for Balenciaga). The new Eckhaus Latta SS25 collection was more or less on display that night, but it wasn’t the focus of the event. This New York Fashion Week has felt different from the last. Much more lively and focused, with plenty of star power and interesting debuts mixed in. The surprise runway distracted from the collection itself, but not many people seemed to mind, myself included, because this Fashion Week has had a newfound energy of fun that, frankly, I’m excited to feel again. That being said, the SS25 garments were predictable for the brand, but nothing that customers won’t eagerly eat up. There is a range of knits, from chunky crewnecks to ribbed cropped cardigans in stunning neutrals. Others are loosely woven to be almost translucent in whites and creams as oversized tops and slinky skirts. My favorite knitwear is, of course, the classic asymmetrical vertical striped tops in dark blues and greens, but a few in tasteful tangerine and taupe, too. Baggy carpenter jeans come in browns, blacks, and greens. Beautiful parachute denim trousers with a matching puff-sleeve jacket and ruched sleeves are stunning for any customer who wants a dramatic but understated set. There are pops of butter yellow in the form of a knit maxi dress and scarlet drawstring pants, also knitted, and styled with a red shoulder bag (no top needed). A few pairs of shoes look like socks that have been stretched over heels, while classic leather mules and square-toe leather work boots are casual and match almost everything in the collection. The line finishes off with pure whites as cutout button-up shirts, billowing skirts, and pleated tops. I would sum it up as soft, techy workwear in silhouettes that vary from slim to strong. The collection may not have pushed the brand out of its comfort zone, but the Fashion Week dinner-turned-runway-turned-dinner certainly did. Mike Eckhaus and Zoe Latta “closed” the show by doing separate struts, leaving the guests with something to giggle about for the rest of the evening. I don’t think the spectacle was meant to distract from the clothes. I think it was a successful attempt to reconnect with the people who make the brand great — its founders, models, writers, creatives, and consumers. It felt personal and silly, and, in the end, I think that if you make your guests laugh — even if it’s a bit uncomfortable at first — you’ve accomplished something great. 🌀 7.2 Jane Lewis is HALOSCOPE's Runway Editor based in New York City. She grew up on farms in Southern California but now she always  matches her shoes to her bag.

SS25's lack of expected eccentricity, on a tactile level, was difficult. Before the show got underway in the opulent lobby of 50 Hudson Yards, a question was fielded to SS25 attendees: “In one word, how would you describe Kim Shui?” Answers ranged from “flirty” and “cutesy” to “diva” and “cunt.” Spot on indicators for the Ghost of Kim Shui past, these adjectives weren’t all that present on Saturday night. What descended down some 40 steps of a glowing Norman Foster staircase was a range of looks that straddled the world of Kim Shui and something new. Inspired by the age-old Japanese pottery gold-mending tradition of Kintsugi, Shui set out to render resiliency and reformation, the process of rebirth. “I like the idea of it being this unity,” Shui told Vogue. “That something comes out more beautiful than before.” In some ways, she achieved just this.  When compared to past collections of hot pink satin qipaos and tufted organza corset dresses, SS25 felt like a caprice to a muted era of the brand. The first seven looks were mostly, if not all, black, a color unusual in Shui-world. And unlike the customary flounce and flow found in her garments, Shui introduced plastic-like floral molds reminiscent of Wedgewood reliefs which dotted the collection as bustiers and neckwear. Well-fitted brown crinkled leather and trusty embroidered satin shouldered the best looks as Shui nodded to her usual suspects: lace-up closures, corsets, and uber-mini dresses. On the other hand, what appeared to be printed chiffon and another sequined, tie-dyed fabric made for less palatable pieces that teetered on feeling dated. Of the 34 looks, only about half felt on-brand, most identifiably Kim being 8, 22, and 26 — least, look 29.  In addition to the garments, exactly half of the looks were paired with chunky retro Nike trainers. It’s not the first time Shui has collaborated with the sportswear big-leaguer, but the hefty swish presence certainly tipped the scales toward casual rule on attire. SS25 isn’t reserved for carpets or clubs, or even the girls. The brand made a soft-launch into the menswear sphere this season with its first-ever men's pieces, which were worn by Jake Fleming in his runway debut. Nothing, however, was casual about the vision of 4’11” Olympic gymnast Jordan Chiles closing out the show in a blue and white capped-sleeve leotard with a train. Her presence jogged the memory of Olympic vigor and athletic excellence, which was another inspiration for Shui this season. While Chiles was busy going gold in Paris this summer, Shui was there too, taking notes of Matthew Barney’s “Secondary,” an exhibition that explores the brutality of sport and the fragility of the body, which she noted as another influence for this collection.  Fittingly enough, one of the front-row attendees was UConn basketball point guard Paige Bueckers. Though the NCAA poster child might have seemed unseemly beside the likes of Tia Corine, the Clermont twins, or Honey Balenciaga, her presence fit with the themes of the night, as well as Shui’s previous work with athletes.  Yet despite such muses ingested into the design process, SS25's lack of expected eccentricity on a tactile level was difficult. While her lean into the casual will surely help her cast her consumer net much wider, this season felt like a hazy limbo that has yet to muscle out from between what Shui has been and where she’s going. Hopefully, this is just her training period. 🌀 5.2 Sophia Scorziello  is a freelance writer from Connecticut who misses living in Los Angeles. Follow her on Twitter  for unsolicited takes and Spotify links.