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A good collection — but it's time for Hilfiger to decide what the brand is supposed to be. In a palette of varying shades of blue, cream, and red — and onboard the MV John F. Kennedy, formerly the operating Staten Island Ferry — the Tommy Hilfiger Spring/Summer 2025 Ready-to-Wear collection leaned into the preppy, though perhaps too comfortably. Opening with three plaid looks in a row — two sets of pants and button-up shirts, one maxi dress — Hilfiger set the tone for the brand’s newest collection: Americana, but baggy.  While preppy clothing has historically been influenced by nautical themes and aesthetics — think the buttery leather brown boat shoes in that dad’s closet — often, preppy brands take the theme too literally. This collection falls into this, greatly in thanks to a knit cream sweater with an embroidered navy anchored on the back and small canvas handbags tied with nautical knots, although these brought some whimsy.  The exaggerated silhouettes, between the loose maxi knit dress, V-necked and sleeveless, and the tiny cropped cardigans, fitted to the chest, the collection attempted to modernize preppy. A performance by the Wu-Tang Clan seemed to be an effort to tie the collection to streetwear and the performative nature of fashion in a city like New York.  Unlike past collections from Hilfiger, the womenswear avoids the hyperfeminine. Even looks that could be construed as more traditionally feminine, such as the pinstripe light blue and white mini dress, are broken up by rougher, more androgynous items; in this case, a loose white trench coat. I see this as an attempt to, once again, appeal to a more streetwear-leaning audience, with success.  But the real hit of the show, and perhaps what Hilfiger does best, was the outerwear. From understated suede jackets to plaid maxi coats to a classic puffer in the white, red, and navy blue block-shaped logo, the outerwear stood out as the most appealing pieces of the collection. They are the pieces that tread closest to Hilfiger’s traditional brand identity, and they polish and complete the looks they are used for in a way that makes me yearn for more outerwear. Is it a bad thing that I wanted every single one of these looks to be covered by a chic, retro-looking jacket? Or is it a sign that we have learned to expect certain things from the Hilfiger brand? 🌀 6.8 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.

" These are women who know what they want — and what they want is Sandy Liang." The Sandy Liang It-Girls have been princesses, mermaids, and then mermaids turned into princesses. For SS25, the Sandy girl transforms into a secret agent whose lasers and gadgets are disguised as lipstick and iridescent accessories. “Fantasy can be practical,” read the show notes, and this presentation surely cemented the Liang brand as a staple in the bicoastal cool girl wardrobe with looks that are charmingly corporate yet vibrantly nostalgic.  Liang’s collection drew heavily on the vivid 2001 TV show Totally Spies  where three animated Beverly Hills teenage girls fight international espionage in bright candy-colored jumpsuits. My first instinct upon seeing the collection was that it felt closer to D.E.B.S crossed with 13 Going on 30  and then a bit of The Devil Wears Prada and Austin Powers  sprinkled in. Safe to say I’m enamored with this new Sandy girl. Aside from just the garments, the models’ blown out bobs, lighter-than-skin pink lipstick, and Polly Pocket-type handbags contribute to this dollhouse-like fantasy world that Liang continues to build as seasons progress. The first four models wore collared short sleeve mini dresses in gray, lacey cream, black, and pastel blue that feel like chic lab coats cut short. Underneath are layered collared shirts adding a dimension to the simple garments, and on each girl’s feet are a pair of thonged metallic pink o-ring kitten heels. These are the girls who grew up trying on their mother’s shiny high heels, except now they actually fit and can afford their own. Tiny star-shaped bag charms dangle from each handbag. Then we see two-piece gingham sets with ruffle hems and a Peter Pan collar. The handbags are the same metallic pink as the shoes (because every girl knows to match their shoes and their bag). A few models look like they dressed themselves in a way that a young girl does, with little sense but a large imagination. Bandanas are tied into their hair, paired with a baggy yet girly beige jacket and tiny lime colored mini shorts. White heels and a matching bag finish the look. And then the girl grows up again. Skirt suits in white lace and khaki satin retain their playfulness when paired with colorful accessories and footwear. One brown satin set borders on frumpy, and a sheeny seafoam puff-shoulder drop-waist mini dress looks like a too-big princess dress for a preteen. However, the styling by Dean DiCriscio just builds on itself to craft the super-spy-girl-world that every member of the audience suddenly becomes a part of. Sisters Sydney and Devon Lee Carlson wore matching outfits in the front row, poet Orion Carloto swooned over the bandanas tied atop trusses, and political/knitter/fashion girl Ella Emhoff was also in attendance along with writer Nicolaia Rips who cutely crafted the show notes.  Perhaps the romanticization of girlhood feels so three months ago, overdone, even exploited. Women and girls are too often the butt of a joke, talked down to, or expected to tailor their femininity for the pleasure of others. Sandy Liang encourages her fantasy world of mermaids, princesses, and now secret agents, to enter our real world. There is truly no harm in pink kitten heels, ruffley gingham cabbage bags, or bedazzled jeans.  The most-eye catching looks of the show were a green apple cardigan, mini short set, and a layered ruffle shoulder bag and a royal blue ensemble of a matching coat, pleated skirt, and banana. The colors were breathtaking, rich, and consuming. Girly but sophisticated. These are women who know what they want — and what they want is Sandy Liang. The garments are “something to create your own world in,” the show notes read. There were plenty of black and gray blazers with mother of pearl buttons for those who aren’t drawn to flamboyance, along with more masculine black and gray sets: jackets with bow details on the décolletage and baggy shorts that don’t bare all. However, a rhinestone mini dress with a slit and satin bow detail is for the ultra flashy Sandy girl. And a sequin and lace mini dress with a pink sash across the bust was made for the girl who knows she’s already won the pageant. To close the show, a delicate barely-there high neck sleeveless mini dress with flouncy transparent florals and tiny sparkling rhinestones sprinkled in the center of each appliqué. This Sandy Liang world is not for everyone. The show notes teased that “each piece is password protected: only you can unlock it.” These pieces are for the girls who want to define their own lives, whether it’s rooted in girlishness or not. You and I and the audience have the freedom to build our own worlds, whether factual or fantastical, corporate or creative. There is a tinge of delusion that is welcomed in these Sandy fantasies, and everyone is happy to buy into it when metallic pink kitten heels are involved. 🌀 8.3 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.

In the virtual reality of Off-White, perhaps clothes don’t need to make sense at all. The Spring 2025 collection at Off-White, shown for the first time at New York Fashion Week, is made up of 42 complex looks that seem to answer: If I wanted to dress like a sexy video game character, what would I wear? Looks that appear to be the outfit of a cartoon motorcycle rider — with stylized lines printed on red spandex-looking fabric to indicate muscles and movement — helped to create this illusion. Exposed chests branded with a small “OFF” in black letters also made the models look more like action figures, strutting down Brooklyn Bridge Park turned runway.  The brand’s streetwear DNA shone through in the color palette, which maintained a very motor-urban feel with red, black, military green, and white, and details like black gloves for the fingers only, or thong-sandals sported primarily by male models. The high-fashion side, too, shone through, in plunging necklines that run all the way down below the belly button and skirts with a bedazzled diagonal layer.  A sheer, tight, light brown hoodie encrusted with silver beads hugged the torso and head of a male model irreverently. Belts with buckles that spelled SEX in big silver letters completed otherwise tame looks of jeans and a tight tank top. A camo pattern of browns and bright red that would completely defeat the purpose of camouflaging anything tied in the absurdity of video game costumes: completely flashy and impractical, worn to do impossible things.  This collection played mostly with shape: adding layers to pants along the waist or making tightly-fitted mock-necked long sleeves a bit unexpected with cut-outs over the hips. A hoodie with a painted geometric pattern is turned into a high-fashion piece with cutouts on the chest beside the shoulders and a V-shaped bottom hem. Paired with a skirt that has equally geometric cutouts near the hips and is adorned with feathers near the bottom, the look is doing everything at once.  And perhaps that is the common thread of this collection: it does everything at once. It is filled with tension, which, from a streetwear perspective, is necessary to succeed. In the virtual reality of Off-White, perhaps clothes don’t need to make sense at all. 🌀 7.4 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.

Was she born with it? Or does it all just come to the right place at the right time with the right designer? Every artist, regardless of their field, has a muse. Think of the Nine Muses of Greek mythology — daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne who inspired science and various areas of the arts — Homer's invocation of his muse in The Odyssey , Andy Warhol's art-pop with Marilyn Monroe, or John Lennon's songs about Yoko Ono. In the world of creation, inspiration has always been sparking lights and keeping artists moving. And, in the world of fashion, it's been no different. From Madonna with Jean Paul Gaultier to Grace Jones with Azzedine Alaïa, many figures have served as catalysts for art — often not only inspiring designers but becoming sartorial idols for the public alike. But what makes someone a fashion muse? While it is common to associate the muse designation with the concept of celebrities who influence creatives for a brief time — like Kim Kardashian for Olivier Rousteing back in the 2010s — or even with the current state of fashion, where brand ambassadors, such as Jennifer Lawrence and Lewis Hamilton for Dior, are becoming increasingly frequent, the dynamics of the muse-creator relationship goes beyond such ephemeral and financial interactions. Such a relationship is initiated by an exchange between two individuals — where a monetary gain may result — where the muse is an extension of the designer for quite some time, serving as the person they envision when creating their designs.  But in the fashion world, anything can become controversial. For some, the term muse  diminishes the person being referred to — as often muses are women and creators are men, placing women not in an active position, but rather in a passive one.  Although indeed male-dominant, when one goes back in time to reconsider the muse-creator situation in fashion, the earliest duo that potentially comes to mind is Rose Bertin and Marie Antoinette from 1774 to 1792. Commonly referred to as the first French designer, Rose Bertin first met Marie Antoinette in the summer of 1774, amid Louis XVI's coronation, when the to-be-queen commissioned robes for the special event. While their relationship began as a service, Antoinette was immediately smitten with the milliner's designs — she appointed Bertin as her personal stylist and they formed a creative exchange that led to a lasting friendship.  Working together, they influenced the epoch's fashion and defined a royal dress code that positioned France as a fashion leader. The exaggerated yet distinguished look of the Versailles court was based on what Bertin saw Marie Antoinette emulating, admiring, and wearing — think of the lavish, ostentatious gowns we see in Rococo art. Case in point:   in the late 1770s, after Bertin created a gown for the queen in comfortable fabrics for private wear, known as the chemise à la Reine or robe "en Gaulle" — which was one of Antoinette's favorite silhouettes because it accentuated the female figure — a fashion frenzy took France  (and the rest of the world)  by storm in 1781. The rest is history.  While Bertin and Antoinette's artistic collaboration evolved from a prestigious client-couturier relationship to an intimate friendship, a muse-creator dynamic can arise for a variety of other reasons. Sometimes the inspirational figure can first be a client, a friend, or a collaborator, and then become a muse — or vice versa. Such was the case with the father of couture, Charles Frederick Worth, and his wife, Marie-Augustine Vernet. According to Debra Mancoff's book ' Fashion Muse ,'  after F. Adolphus, a British journalist, visited the couple at their home in 1870 and saw Vernet in white satin trimmed lace and black velvet banding, he was left with the lingering impression that ''...she and her dress were absolutely one.'' One, they were. In Adolphus' eyes, Vernet embodied the very essence of Maison Worth's charm. Indeed, she was who inspired Worth's creations and who, over the years, the couturier envisioned wearing his pieces. It was in 1851 that Worth first met his soon-to-be muse and wife, Marie-Augustine Vernet while working as a salesman for Gagelin, where she was a model — known as a demoiselles . After demonstrating that he was an exceptional tailor, he started working with Vernet to display the quality of the costumes to clients. Over time, the relationship grew. From model to wife and muse, she inspired his designs for the French textile company and then for the establishment they opened together, Maison Worth, the first haute couture house, for which she continued to model until 1865, when she retired for health reasons — but remained the guiding force that ignited his creativity until his demise in 1895. The romantic couple dynamic as creator and muse has a long-established history in fashion — whether it is the designer Jacques Faith and the model Genevieve Boucher de la Bruyére, who married in 1939 and thrived for years in the fashion scene, or the infamous case of Paul Poiret and Denise Boulet. After Paul Poiret joined the Maison Worth in 1901, working only on basic garments — dubbed "French fries" or "side dishes" — his resentment due to the limitations of his role fueled the rise of his signature irreverent style. In 1903, he opened his own house and challenged the established conventions of tailoring. From neoclassical silhouettes to Japanese kimonos, his label was built around modern and subversive creations, promoted through lavish parties. The first lady to wear his many hits was his wife, Denise Boulet, whom he married in 1905. During the promotion of the designs, it was she who modeled the flamboyant clothes. At parties, Boulet also wore her husband's opulent work. And, in public, she was never seen without a Poiret creation. In a 1913 interview for Vogue , the couturier credited his wife as his primary inspiration, describing her as ''the expression of all my ideals.'' As his muse and the archetype of la garçonne  amid the Roaring Twenties, Denise was the embodiment of the decade's modernism and Poiret's designs. When the couple divorced in 1928 and Poiret closed his store as the sleek designs of Gabrielle Coco Chanel became increasingly in demand, Boulet's wardrobe endured as the ultimate symbol of their legacy. Although many assume that the muse is the romantic flame of the creator, this is not always the case. In the 1930s, Elsa Schiaparelli created a shoe hat inspired by one of Salvador Dalí's paintings, turning his art into her "muse" for the first time. Shortly after, the Italian designer and the Spanish painter joined forces in one of the first collaborations between fashion and art, creating a compact powder case shaped like a rotating telephone dial, which marked the birth of the ongoing creative relationship between the duo and the merging of their surrealist visions. Both provocative and unconventional, Dalí's reflections on humanity, subversion, and time were easily translated into Schiaparelli's clothing and accessories. Fragrances such as Le Roy Soleil, oversized jewelry such as a giant bee brooch, the skeleton dress, the sheepskin hat, and the now iconic lobster dress are forever etched in fashion history and represent a creative exchange between two artists who inspired each other and regarded each other's artistic creations as muses.  Sometimes, creatives can be their own muses. Many legendary fashion designers, like Diane von Fürstenberg, Vivienne Westwood, and Gabrielle Coco Chanel, only had to look in the mirror to be touched by the sparkling energy to inspire. But sometimes spontaneous encounters generate muses, too. In 1953, Hubert de Givenchy was visited in his Paris studio by an individual who he believed to be actress Katherine Hepburn. But he was actually meeting Audrey Hepburn, a relatively unknown actress at the time, who was working on the film Sabrina  and was interested in him designing the dresses for the movie. Despite his initial reluctance, over dinner, the star convinced him with her beauty, personality, and serenity. Forty years of friendship and inspiration ensued. From the 1950s until her death in 1993, Hepburn served as Mr. Givenchy's greatest muse — she was the face of the perfume L'Interdit in 1957 because he made it for her; donned his creations on the red carpet and in her daily activities; and, from 1956 onward, included a contract that Givenchy would design costumes for all of her future films, which is seen in Breakfast at Tiffany's  and Funny Face . Aside from attitude, a muse can appear in the light of her very own needs. One of the most notable cases is that of Jane Birkin and Hermès CEO Jean-Louis Dumas. Amidst fortuitous circumstances, such a connection was forged during a flight from Paris to London. When Birkin reached her assigned seat, her seatmate was none other than Dumas. As she settled in, Birkin accidentally spilled everything she had in her iconic straw bag on the floor. Hermès' CEO assisted her in picking it up and recommended that the actress switch to a bag with pockets. She responded that if Hermès designed a spacious bag that was perfect for the daily life and needs of a young mother, she would end up ditching her memorable straw bag for it. As the flight took off, the pair kept themselves busy — not with coloring books or movies, but rather by sketching such a purse in a sick bag. Once the bag was produced, Dumas proposed naming it after the actress, who accepted. Finally, the Birkin bag was launched in 1984, and since then, the legendary Anglo-French singer was seen everywhere carrying her own.  There is an inherent beauty in witnessing muses adopting what was inspired by their own essence, needs, and preferences. Betty Catroux, for instance, an androgynous model who was considered Yves Saint Laurent's greatest muse, was never a fan of fashion — so it was Saint Laurent who was in charge of curating her carefree wardrobe from the moment their paths crossed in the late '60s. The two first met at a nightclub called Chez Régine, instantly connecting ''morally and mentally,'' as Catroux shared with Whitewall . From then on, the model would be known as the embodiment of the post-gender femininity the designer introduced, as seen in garments such as the iconic safari suit and the cult-like Le Smoking. For Gianni Versace, it wasn't such a random situation that introduced him to his muse, but rather his family. As the middle son of dressmakers Francesca and Antonio Versace, the environment in which he grew up sparked his love for fashion. And, as the very embodiment of what he would create, his younger sister Donatella Versace would become his muse. Sharing a passion for creation, they were incredibly close. "I was his doll and his best friend. He dressed me up in cool clothes, took me out to discos and clubs from when I was 11," Donatella Versace told The Guardian  in 2017. She first dyed her hair when she was eleven, and, as she grew up, she possessed the kind of exuberant and exaggerated energy that is now associated with Versace. Although many saw her as just a muse, she was much more than that. When the label was already a success in the late eighties and early nineties, Gianni always asked her opinion, with her approval being crucial to him — because she had a profound influence on the brand's image, from photo shoots to runway castings. And then, after the tragic loss of her brother, Donatella became the creator, bringing with her the same spirit that was known during Gianni's years — after all, she has always been the spirit of the brand.  Speaking of fashion muses who fully draw one in, the Jamaican actress, singer, and model Grace Jones comes to mind. An icon in her own right, Jones became Azzedine Alaïa's muse with her signature '80s power dressing and bold, unparalleled attitude. Whether promoting Alaïa's lines or portraying May Day in the 1985 Bond classic ' A View to a Kill ' — in an extravagant hooded Alaïa bandage dress, with the kind of power that left a lasting impression on the industry and challenged its beauty standards — Alaïa and Jones' alliance was built on their passion for sultry, defiant, and artistic designs. The significance of a muse to a designer and their demeanor will always remain relevant to the dynamics of inspiration and creation in fashion. Take Jean Paul Gaultier and Madonna, for instance. As one of the few artists to speak out about the AIDS crisis and the homophobia that gripped the world during the eighties, Madonna has always had an unconventional attitude that was sure to attract  L'enfant terrible de la mode . With his provocative, cutting-edge, and non-conforming gender designs, Gaultier's creations matched Madonna's daring and rebellious spirit. From the iconic conical-breasted bustier the pop star wore on the Blond Ambition World Tour in 1990 to the equestrian dominatrix-esque look she wore on the Confessions Tour in 2006, an iconic partnership was forged between Gaultier and Madonna that has defined fashion, music, and pop culture forever.     And if there was another fashion collaboration between muse and creator that took pop culture by storm, it was Devon Aoki — also a darling of Karl Lagerfeld — as the true muse of the rebellious Jeremy Scott in the 2000s. From transforming into a mermaid in Jeremy Scott's Spring/Summer 2001 collection to walking in Moschino's Resort 2017 show in a '60s-inspired look, she quickly turned into the fearless designer's collaborator, working with him even after retiring from the fashion scene — as the face of Moschino's TOY 2 fragrance campaign, referencing her  Little Mermaid- esque look first seen in Jeremy Scott's Spring/Summer 2001 collection. In the years that followed, despite the ever-changing state of fashion and the increasingly commercialized nature of the industry, there were still instances of genuine creative collaboration between muse and creator. These included long-term friendships such as that between Riccardo Tisci and Maria Carla Boscono, who have maintained a close working bond despite their diverging professional paths, as well as unexpected pairings such as that between actress Taylor Russell and 2023 International Designer of the Year Jonathan Anderson. But the current duo that stands out is definitely actress Zendaya and stylist Law Roach. A friend of Kazembe Coleman, Zendaya's father and manager, Roach first met the actress back in 2011 when she was 14 and still a Disney Channel star. On a recent episode of TODAY with Hoda & Jenna, the stylist revealed how it all started. ''We made a pinky swear that I would do everything that I could do in my power and my reach to help her grow, and as she’d grow, she would bring me along with her, '' Roach explained. Since their first collaboration, at the premiere of Justin Bieber's Never Say Never in Los Angeles, where Zendaya donned a metallic blazer and a grayish leather skirt with tights, they forged an unbreakable bond. ''She carries herself like a seasoned diva on the red carpet,'' the stylist told Fashionista  in 2017 while trying to secure an Emanuel Ungaro gown for Zendaya.  As time went on while they grew, fashion has been smitten with their creative partnership, which has taken over red carpets, fashion events, and magazine covers. Whether it was wearing a Versace chainmail gown inspired by Joan of Arc at the 2018 Met Gala "Heavenly Bodies," the 2019 Met Gala ''Camp: Notes on Fashion'' where Zendaya transformed into Cinderella in a light blue Tommy Hilfiger gown — Roach obviously turned into her fashion fairy godmother to accompany her — the various tenniscore looks seen at Luca Guadadigno's Challengers premiere or the iconic Thierry Mugler archive robot suit pull at the Dune: Part Two  premiere in London, always when styling the actress, Roach was inspired by her witty, referential, elegant sense and style.  When Roach announced his retirement in 2023 via Instagram, he immediately shared on X (formerly Twitter), "So y'all really think I'm breaking up with Z..... we are forever," solidifying the actress as his longtime muse. But is it the artist who creates the muse? Or does the muse create the artist? Like the chicken and egg debate, fashion finds itself in a constant dilemma. In More Than A Muse , author Katie McCabe explores the controversial notion that a designer creates a muse, claiming that, in fact, the muse has credit, too. Thus, like a paradox, they create each other and thrive together. ''If I have an opportunity where he can come with me, he's always going to be there," Zendaya told   Elle Magazine  in 2023. "He's always been my creative director in a sense, and he continues to fill that role because it's more than just clothes on a red carpet. It's a bigger thing," the actress added. A bigger thing, it's indeed. 🌀 Ana Reitz  is a Brazilian fashion writer who breathes fashion. As a Latin American fashionista, she values a diverse and inclusive fashion landscape and aims to make a difference in the complex yet beautiful industry that surrounds her. She writes anything fashion-related for her own Substack For Fashion’s Sake .

A sigh of relief for another SS25 show focused on fun and fantasy — rather than the rigidity that is all too common in fashion presentations. At Collina Strada SS25, creative director Hillary Taymour not only encourages her audience to touch grass, but to roll in it. Held in an East Village private park, Taymour’s collection titled “Touch Grass” is a reminder that the sustainable brand isn’t promoting environmental pessimism but instead giving a healthy dose of fashionable realism. The audience sat among a whimsical grassy runway surrounded by towering concrete buildings, a reminder that nature can coexist with excessive urbanity. The soundtrack to the show was a soup of classics like “Pieces of Me” by Ashley Simpson mixed with Collina Strada’s own mantras — chants of “I care a lotta, Collina Strada… please stop cutting down trees and kiss the grass.” A punch of humor and a reminder of the dire state of our environment, but not without a hint of romance. This is Collina Strada. The show opened with a pastel watercolor and white lace slip dress paired with frilly mesh booties that will surely be adopted by everyone fashionable south of 14th Street. The hottest accessory was grass-stained hair that dragged on the ground behind the model, matching the grass that clung to her knees. The earth truly became part of the garments, adding an endearingly juvenile touch to high fashion. The looks that followed were classic Collina: long watercolor gowns with billowing fluid sleeves, cascading layers of ruffles in ambiguous animal prints, and a key lime blouse that flowed like a babbling brook, all paired with ruffled booties and phenomenal floral and plaid patterned sneakers equipped with quirky Miu Miu-esque bubble soles and an oversized flower patch hiding shoelaces. I urgently need a pair of each. Returning muses on the runway included Aaron Rose Philip, Indira Scott, Sara Hiromi, Jazzelle ( @uglyworldwide ), and Rusty, Taymour’s self-described model, muse, and mother. Model Veronika Vilim toted a small white Pomeranian pigmented with a leaf-like hue. Did the precious pooch get painted or did it simply take a tussle on the grassy runway? Another model wore thick pink sunglasses, a ruched black sheer top, and black mini shorts while slicing through the grass with an old-fashioned push lawn mower, kicking the bright green clippings onto his shins, achieving an illusion of grassy knee-high socks. So silly, so chic. One model in particular prompted an excited reaction from the audience, New York’s own micro-celebrity, 83-year-old Elizabeth Sweetheart, also known as @greenladyofbrooklyn , who wears solely monochromatic outfits in, you guessed it, green. In a perfectly predictable fashion, stylist Jorden Bickham chose a vibrant green ensemble from the top of her green apple space buns to the tip of her grassy sneakers. Along with a matcha tinted button-up, oversized cargos, a bedazzled avocado-colored sweatshirt tied around her waist, and a blinged-out emerald wallet chain hooked onto her belt loops, the charming model also cradled an iguana-shaped handbag in her lime green-painted fingertips. I see a new Collina muse in the making. At times, Bickham repeatedly combined garments that seemingly didn’t work together, which was the case for a few looks — like a delicate, puffy micro mini skirt reminiscent of a billowing jellyfish layered beneath a heavy-textured plaid chore jacket. However, this just aligns with the charming eclecticism of Collina Strada that intrigues customers who want something weird, maybe even unnerving. A few looks repeated this jellyfish silhouette that could have bordered on childish but resulted in playfully mature. A massive periwinkle crossbody bag whose frilly straps wrapped around a stunning, billowing black blouse. A dark ruched and ruffled asymmetrical gown fit for an anemone blooming at the bottom of the sea floor. Even a striped hat folded to almost resemble a pirate’s, paired with micro tweed shorts. Not to be missed were classic undulating, diaphanous skirts and gowns, manifestations of the brand’s whimsy. Mixed into these statement looks were also digestible neutrals and tastefully patterned mini dresses layered over white frilly skirts for the more conservative Collina consumer. Every part of Mother Nature was represented, from the ground we stand on to the ocean we swim in. Taymour’s choice of a park as the runway was aligned with her brand ethos — while highlighting New York’s complicated history with its green spaces, even in historic Central Park . Even more urgently, Nolita’s Elizabeth Street Garden, a beloved public park, sculpture garden, and community event space, faces a devastating demolition . Taymour not only achieved getting high-powered fashion industry attendees outside and into nature, but also encouraged them to laugh, applaud, and dance along, a much-needed grounding moment at the beginning of Fashion Month, whose industry produces the second-most carbon emissions in the world.  But this is what is at the core of Collina Strada: a commitment to producing garments sustainably, with recycled and deadstock fabrics made from endearing materials like rose bushes .  The show culminated with one model who lept, cartwheeled, and collapsed artfully into the grass, rolling and writhing in the fresh cuttings. The audience cheered for the performance, breathing a sigh of relief for another Collina Strada show focused on fun and fantasy rather than the rigidity that is all too common in fashion presentations. Perhaps spring’s hottest trends won’t be banal fads and microtrends, but something timeless instead: a return to the earth and rolling around in the grass that inevitably stains our jeans. 🌀 7.8 Jane Lewis  is a writer, editor, and fashion journalism student at The New School in New York City. She spent her adolescence playing and working on farms in California, but now wears her Marc Jacobs FW 2005 plaid trench coat every day and always matches her shoes to her bag. Find her on Instagram ( @janethefarmer ) and Twitter ( @janelikethesong ).

For SS25, Catherine Holstein responds to the scorn with a disorienting vision. “She was the purest being in the world. [...] She studied well, not out of an abstract thirst for knowledge, but because to be exempt from paying for one’s studies one had to be a good student, and therefore one had to study well. Just as she studied well, so without effort she washed dishes, helped in the shop, and ran errands for her mother. She moved noiselessly and smoothly, and everything about her — the inconspicuous quickness of her movements, her height, her voice, her gray eyes and fair hair — went perfectly together.” So begins Lara Antipova’s introduction in Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The mid-century language is sticky, spoony: here is a woman turned beautiful by her service to others and wholly oblivious to that beauty. The misogynistic problems with the prose are obvious, but nevertheless instruct us as modern readers: at one point in time, the feminine ideal, particularly for men, was a woman both lovely and credulous. This notion is annoying at best and rage-inducing at worst. And — despite being so antiquated — it has not entirely left our collective imagination. This is all too present in the constant criticism of Catherine Holstein’s Khaite. Many fashion writers are reticent to keel to the brand’s success and genuinely consider its creative juice. How could a brand so pallid and limp be so prosperous? How could this image of a modern Lara Antipova, clad in ‘80s shoulder pads and girlboss-y kitten heels, say anything worthwhile? The constant adjectives attached to Khaite: cold, characterless, inconspicuous, irritating, try-hard, mean girl, technically-pretty, technically-perfect, lovely and credulous.  I’ve yet to see a brand outside of streetwear inspire such fury in people — especially among fashion writers, who are usually horny for diplomacy (can’t risk losing a Substack sponsorship). But the Khaite hate, at least among industry insiders, is strong. Perhaps this is because, unlike many of the calendar’s other names, Khaite is not risky or innovative enough; perhaps we think the brand attracts the “wrong” type of fashion-lover, which is another essay; perhaps this is because we flay ourselves against commercially successful sportswear. To this day, top-designer listicles frequently omit the work of Donna Karan, Claire McCardell, and even, at very shocking times, Jil Sander. The fact of the matter is that sportswear designers know what women want — and they know that offering a patina of perfection, achieved through a well-made garment, is priceless. Catherine Holstein is one of those designers. During FW24, she told Vogue Runway: “I want women to feel exhilarated when they put on my clothes.” To exhilarate you have to catch unawares. After criticism of a too-shadowy space last season, the Spring/Summer venue is well-lit and cavernous. Metallic doors rhythmically twist, aligning into a partition wall every few seconds, throwing bronze light across the room. And a surprising soundtrack — Wilco, and “November Rain,” which I don’t believe has ever been played on a Fashion Week runway. It’s the kind of ironic sequencing you’d expect at a college radio station, not a Khaite show. The tack: meet our expansive taste palette, sometimes earnest, sometimes wry, made tenable through pretty logic. If you don’t like it, argue with the metal wall. The strategy was so successful that Khaite is arguably the most tastefully executed show of the season, cutting right under Ralph Lauren. That’s not even counting the clothes, which are just superb — and exhilarating. Holstein is clearly eager to startle both her loyalists and dissenters with garments that complicate. To note: sheer organza trousers; a black-and-white braided dress, its specks collapsing inward; a white blouse cut by a half-pipe; a thin, pink dress, exaggerated turtleneck half-covering the face; and a sea of crochet appliqués, obviously inspired by zippy Parisian atelier Les Fleurs. Oh! And lots of well-made leather, as always. The most evident criticism, here, is that these clothes are technically unflattering, having little to do with the body. For a designer accused of catering to a too-polished clientele, I think it’s brilliant.  Another criticism, less rigid: the fabric manipulations are a bit rudimentary, leaving even great ideas weighed down by rushed experimentation. An oversized organza poncho, its fabric stipules folding against one another, is more than unfortunate — it’s pointless. The same goes for rainbow seed-beed shoes, awkwardly placed. Obsession with theory and attempt, rather than practice and perfection, can break designers. “I think we got very far into the darkness, into the slickness [last season] —obviously that’s my comfort zone,” Holstein told Vogue Runway. “This is not my comfort zone, but I wanted to venture out into making myself more uncomfortable.” I just think Holstein made the wrong person uncomfortable. I also think, 24 hours later, that SS25 holds an inexplicable power. It’s the kind of show you revisit again and again, like a Jil Sander collection, in an attempt to answer its darkling questions. To chase that effect, rather than lovely credulity, is noble. 🌀 7.8 Savannah Eden Bradley is a writer, fashion editor, gallerina, Gnostic scholar, reformed It Girl, and future beautiful ghost from the Carolina coast. She is the Editor-in-Chief of the fashion magazine HALOSCOPE. You can stalk her everywhere online @savbrads.

Thunder! Go Team! Women’s Rights! After watching America's Sweethearts — The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders  Netflix Series — (which is a seriously lengthy title compared to director Greg Whitley’s previously simple Cheer ) — I’m admittedly dying to don a pair of white cowboy boots, white hot pants, an electric blue blouse and a star-spangled white fringed vest.   Something that is constantly reiterated throughout the series is the elevated image of the DCC. The importance of the look  and how that look is part and parcel of the DCC image. Words that come to mind — flawless , impeccable , high-femme , inhuman . Every centimeter of the DCC should measure to an effortless perfection. The pure dedication to primping and preening for this otherworldly look reminds me of drag. This observation is affirmed by the appearance of Dolly Parton in the latter half of the series, who once said, “It’s a good thing I was born a girl, otherwise I’d be a drag queen.”   The DCCs are expected to toe the line between coy , innocent , All-American  and dazzling , sensual , mature . Many of the women describe the outfit with the word “superwoman.” At one point the bootmaker who makes the DCCs iconic white cowboy boots says, “For a man you can dress up like Batman, for a woman you can be a DCC.” (The irony here cannot be overlooked. Batman is a fully covered anonymous vigilante while the DCCs are barely dressed, public-facing characters, and parts of the docuseries chronicle their experiences with stalking, harassment, and sexual assault.)   The role of the cheerleader and the cheerleading uniform itself is controversial. It’s been routinely critiqued for objectifying and sexualising women. But as professional cheerleading has become more complex, the modern cheerleading uniform now tends more towards spandex and athletic performance wear.  In a 2020 interview with Vogue , reflecting on modern cheerleading uniforms, Bring It On ’s costume designer, Mary Jane Fort, said: “I remember looking at so many cheerleading uniforms and just thinking, That’s awful. Nothing was particularly flattering. I thought, How can I simplify this, and make it look real but appealing and graphic?” Fort ended up streamlining the designs. I want to look at how versions of the cheerleading uniform have inspired fashion, because before there was athleisure, the way to show your dedication to Sports!  in your daily wardrobe was by dressing Preppy! The vintage cheerleading uniform is, in my opinion, a perfect outfit. A pleated skirt. A knit jersey, in collegiate colours; white, poppy red, dark blue, mustard yellow, or campus green. Colour blocking, thick lines, with rib-knit cuffs. Raglan socks. Off-white tennis shoes scuffed around the edges for a lived-in feel. Of course, part of the appeal is the knowledge that this outfit is, hopefully, constructed in breathable vintage cotton.   It's then no surprise that elements of the cheerleading outfit are recognisable in any American designer brand which describes itself as classic, or preppy, like Ralph Lauren and Tommy Hilfiger. (Among the many professions of the Polo Bear cheerleader is one of them! As seen on   this  vintage lambswool scarf).  Anna Sui’s eclectic Spring/Summer 1994 runway included a whole cheerleading   section , pairing pleated skirts with pointy black pumps and pom-pom headpieces. Although the pleated skirt does not belong to the cheerleader it will always be associated with one. During the height of the iconic American Apparel tennis skirt, the piece was often worn in cheer-esque ensembles, with matching tops or turtlenecks, white shoes, and cheer-y hairstyles. 2015 was a fashion year that readily embraced prep, with Tommy Hilfiger FW15 showing thick pleats, on glossy-haired, soapy-clean models, of cotton and wool, with luxe fur maxi-details.   In Spring/Summer 2016, London brand Sibling, known for their colourful knitwear, sent both male and female models down the runway carrying pom-poms. More recently a different iconic skirt, from Miu Miu SS23, was paired with cable knit, collared shirts, and emblemed sports jerseys.   The cheerleading uniform is ever present in American Culture. There’s always a TV show or film with cheerleaders swilling in the background or foreground, from Grease  to Glee  to Riverdale . Dazed’s Spring 2021  edition featured stars of the Gossip Girl  reboot in customised ‘XOXO’ cheerleading uniforms. One of Chappell Roans' several songs of the summer features a cheer chant - H-O-T-T-O-G-O . Both Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor Swift have worn cheerleading uniforms in music videos. But the current metropolitan look of maxi skirts paired with sweatshirts, slick back buns, and trainers reminds me more of vintage cheerleading uniforms.  The cheerleading uniform epitomises the relationship between practical and presentable clothing. After all, a cheerleader is a performer. Where the cheerleader has featured in cinema and culture, she is usually the focal point, subject to the lens of the male gaze (and I do mean in the Laura Mulvey essay, not the TikTok co-opt of the phrase). Jennifer Check, Angela Hayes, Torrance Shipman — they all perform to  camera, sporting their acronyms and hairbands, thick as slabs of ice cream.  Although the cheerleading uniform has been rightfully critiqued, the position does hold a certain legacy for female empowerment. As a sport: it's female-dominated. As a memory, for so many women: it marks an occasion of, as they say in the show, truly “being someone.” I will admit I shed a few tears when, during the Netflix series, all ages of former DCCs came together to dance once again. And, at the end of the day, isn't that what fashion is also about? — finding a way to blend the practical, presentable, and identifiable. For me, personally, if I am to reference sports in my daily outfits, I’d rather do it with the silhouettes and details of a cheerleader. 🌀 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).

The designer grapples with commercial abjection. A few weeks ago, I found myself in an uptown Walmart and was struck with blinkered horror — these clothes were decent. Long gone were the days of Tweety Bird nightgowns; rhinestone crucifixes studded onto boho-Ed Hardy nightmares; and v-neck t-shirts painted with Marilyn Monroe’s pale, frozen face. Suddenly, I was pressed against tolerable, Magnolia Network-y blouses and jeans, indistinguishable from the Old Navies and Ann Taylor Loft’s of the world. The shock, here, was not that a supermarket, especially a supermarket known as a particularly American punchline, was sharpening its offerings. It was that Brandon Maxwell had accomplished something once unthinkable. Maxwell was hired in 2021 to round out the brand’s apparel division and shape its in-house lines. He was not the first designer eager to yoke themselves to a mass-market retailer; Max Azria worked with Walmart for a then-teenybopper Miley Cyrus collection, and countless designers have worked alongside Target on limited capsules. But Maxwell stepping into a Creative Director role was met with derision both on and offline. An editor DM’d me the story when it broke: “He’s out of money, right?” I’ve never thought that was the case. Maxwell largely makes great clothes; models like walking for him; he’s worked with the same people — like Movement Director Stephen Galloway — for almost a decade; he never neglects a brand corner. A lack of focus, both in the studio and the boardroom, is what presses designers for cash. And whether you like Maxwell’s work or find it repetitious, you must admit the man possesses an almost medical concentration and consistency. He is a surgeon. And it does take precision, especially in Maxwell’s case, to be amenable to throwing out the playbook. The past few seasons have seen Maxwell at his most architectonic, forceful, immovable, a Basic Instinct ice-queen glamour. Playing into the high-fashion brand angles across your repertoire is a smart move, especially when “Walmart Creative Director” swings under your byline. But SS25 sees Maxwell relaxed, loose, and — dare I say — slackened. Though I have the gut feeling that this laxity is as calculated as Maxwell’s stiffer work. “I’ve taken lessons that life has handed me about control and the lack thereof and translated them into the collection,” the designer writes in his show notes.  The most salient pieces are Maxwell at his best — governed by shape and drape. A blossom-pink silk dress, neckline cut to the belly button, hangs like a dream; belted halter dresses in matching fabric are fun, if derivative, with models’ hands covering their breasts (Sarah Burton’s Alexander McQueen did it better). Ruffled hemlines, a frequent hallmark, twist and twitch like kelp forests, though they’re far less becoming in Maxwell’s preferred dirty-mustard chartreuse.  These moments of bliss are intercut with jarring incuriosity. A bulky bomber jacket, silver zipper sparkling, squeezes a minidress; a trenchcoat is deadened by a snap-and-release section; a long-sleeve crop top, though lovely, does nothing but remind you less of Brandon Maxwell and more of Brandy Melville. These are wearable clothes, no doubt, but therein lies the issue: are they worth wearing? Maxwell is loved on the calendar for his intelligence and constancy, and I do believe the Maxwell of these past few seasons still exists. You catch glimpses of him occasionally: a black turtleneck under an asymmetrical leather coat, clear fisherman sandals, wrapped tops, and maxi skirts that hit the ankle with such easy grace. They are not the most revolutionary clothes in the world, but they are quintessentially Brandon Maxwell, and they’re outstanding. But to look at the whole of this collection — in its oscillating moments of brilliance and vacuity — is to feel like you’re in for open-heart surgery, and your physician is distracted by an iPhone notification: his Walmart order is out for delivery. 🌀 6.7 Savannah Eden Bradley is a writer, fashion editor, gallerina, Gnostic scholar, reformed It Girl, and future beautiful ghost from the Carolina coast. She is the Editor-in-Chief of the fashion magazine HALOSCOPE. You can stalk her everywhere online @savbrads.

Pretty florals, psychoanalysis, and the sublimated erotics of Jouissance Parfums’ debut collection. If one were to construct some grand machine whose sole purpose was to read my text messages and Google searches to generate a brand identity most likely to rope me into wanting a sample set, it might look something like the world Cherry Cheng has crafted with Jouissance Parfums . Emphasis on the word ‘craft’ – for the art direction, design choices, and multidisciplinary rollout for this set of new fragrances is compelling beyond the likes of which is expected or ever seen in modern fragrance markets. Little details, all carefully attended to, create a cohesive presence catering to the intersection between a very modern post-coquette girlblogging clientele and the overindulgent, highly aestheticized women’s erotic literature predating mid-20th century feminist psychoanalysis. Finally, a niche perfume house for young women who liberally describe situations as ‘Kafkaesque’ and have notifications enabled for the Anaïs Nin Twitter bot . The devil is truly in the details with the world of Jouissance: I am deeply enchanted by mock lace trim on the paper given with their Collected Works sample set, their website selling first edition copies of Unica Zürn’s letters and writings, and a fabulous launch party-cum-short story reading at the London Institute of Contemporary Arts. As a constant advocate for the continued tradition of L’écriture féminine in my own critical and artistic practice, I wholeheartedly echo both Jouissance’s inspiration from the writings of Cixous and the sentiment that perfume should not only be multidisciplinary, but inter-critical.  First encountering these touchpoints in graduate school at Goldsmiths, Cheng clearly has an anachronistic sort of feminine pleasure at the forefront of the design and branding of these fragrances. I do feel a somewhat troubling tension between the explicitly modern sex-positive feminist branding of the house, and the notoriously sadomasochistic stories that inspire its creation. The little bobblehead version of Andrea Dworkin that lives in the top left corner of my critical mind wants me to press harder on the idea of buying and selling a pretty-smelling beauty product to women inspired by a published fantasy of becoming a free-use sexual slave, but the idealist in me can’t help but swoon for the delightful word of women’s photography, performance, and scent Jouissance conjures in its complicated wake. One could argue that Cheng’s association of the theoretical idea of jouissance with Cixous and not Lacan inherently reveals the houses’ critical stance as both anti-patriarchal and distinctly contemporary. The idealization of writers like Nin who have remained difficult to reconcile with second-wave feminist praxis could at its most generous not necessarily condone or glamorize sexual violence, but gesture towards what Lacan termed “supplementary jouissance… a jouissance of the body which is beyond the phallus.”  Nevertheless, to a very mixed cultural effect, the three fragrances that consist of Jouissance’s debut collection are very delicate, feminine, and naturalistic. I would love to see future releases from Cheng transgress and provoke in not only name but olfactory practice as well. Perhaps it would make me feel better about their flirtation with a feminist take on female submission or even the idea of a feminist perfume house in general if the scents they created were on a certain level – ugly  and idiosyncratic enough to not beguile unbeknownst men. But like many of the stories they are inspired by, the more time you spend with these seemingly pretty things, the more their tiny little vulgar idiosyncrasies are revealed.  La Bague D’O is clearly presented as the crown jewel of the collection and does present perhaps the most novel appeal to the discerning perfume collector. Inspired by Anne Desclos’ fictitious chronicle of sexual servitude Story of O  — La Bague   is Damask rose in delicate chains. Drawing extreme similarities between Rossy de Palma’s well-loved signature fragrance  for the far more problematic male provocateurs at Etat Libre d’Orange, La Bague D’O resonates a neat and feminine floral core with far-out metallic frequencies. The opening presents a single squeezed orange and a crackling of pepper, but quickly submits its spice to a strong and dense rose geranium similar to the hybrid blooms found in Middle Eastern attars. I don’t smell any other flowers here, but rather, the tinny taste of blood that accents the central accord like a promise. The perfume’s copy promises an animalic defilement of these florals, but to me, the castoreum base does not necessarily take center stage but rather fleshes out the accord of ‘steel chains’ written of in La Bague’s top notes. As it wears, it becomes more aggressive, yielding to a vaguely animalic base for a number of very sophisticated hours. Certainly the strongest wear of the three sisters, I can easily see this one garnering the most popularity. Wear La Bague D’O if you love an unconventional rose fragrance, or if you crawl FetLife looking for a full-time daddy dom like a bad habit you can’t quite scratch.  In comparison to the other two fragrances, En Plein Air is perhaps the least anachronistic, my least favorite, and the least shocking. Inspired by the life and sexual exploits of Catherine Millet, its copy specifically references her oft-recounted love of outdoor orgies. Given such an explicit set of references, I am surprised by how clean this fragrance smells. The petrichor accord here is like that of Le Labo’s Baie 19 , laden in airy earthiness and a synthetic musk base. Dissimilar, however, is the overdose of grapefruit zest in the opening. Easily accessible to anyone who loves a good citrus, I can imagine this sitting prettily on the collarbone of a young woman with a respectable office job, who maybe hides underneath a pristine and approachable exterior the vaguest inclination towards something off .  I knew before I had even smelled this set that Les Cahiers Secrets would be my favorite of the set. Inspired by the early diaries of Anaïs Nin, its copy references the bohemian atmosphere of her writing circle and the small aesthetic indulgences she would insist on amongst her working artist squalor. The website specifically uses the dreaded phrase “grandma scent” to refer to the general boudoir atmosphere it creates: nine times out of ten, it’s code for powdery perfume that smells so good it gatekeeps Gen-Z girls with poor misguided hearts desperately afraid of aging and noses broken from overexposure to the noxious rose-lychee-vanilla accord in vapid perfumes like Delina Exclusif . On skin, Cahiers   wears like a hyper-atmospheric interpretation of a classic Belle Époque perfume. Like spraying L'heure Bleue through a tightly stretched pair of pantyhose, vague kitchen spices mingle with orris and skin musk. This is the direction I would love to see Jouissance continue in – perfume that smells evocative, romantic, and ancestral to certain women, and wholly sexually expired to the clueless men who pursue them. The central floral here is a gorgeous lily. I’m not shy about my love for mournful lily masterworks like Passage D’Enfer , and in its delicacy, this does perhaps reference Giacobetti’s work. Wear this perfume if you love Comme des Garçons’ iconic Sticky Cake , and wish it went more in the direction of Vivienne Westwood’s tragically discontinued Boudoir . My gorgeously designed full bottle will surely be an easy reach for the frigid months of the oncoming winter, surrounding my person with a tiny little halo of makeup powder, flushed skin, and single flowers tied up in neat little white ribbons. 🌀 Audrey Robinovitz is a multidisciplinary artist, scholar, and self-professed perfume critic. Her work intersects with the continued traditions of fiber and olfactory arts, post-structural feminism, and media studies. At this very moment, she is most likely either smelling perfume or taking pictures of flowers.

Now, more than ever, women are blitzing the merchandising industry in hopes of finally scoring more appropriate sports merchandise. I can still remember the first jersey I ever owned. It was a white Philip Rivers one that hugged my waist and had a bedazzled #17 on the front and the back. Raised by a father who spent his Sunday afternoons teaching me all about first downs, touchdowns, and all the other ways in which a player could be “down,” that jersey became not only a staple in my wardrobe but a guide for the pieces that joined it. Adding to my jersey collection was a uniquely gratifying experience, the brightly-colored, loosely-fitting, boxy-cut merchandise contrasting all the corsets, dresses, and skirts that also call my closet home. It’s a visual testimony to the duality of women, one that conveys that femininity isn’t necessarily a one-size-fits-all concept.  I’ve spent the last decade of my life adding to this elaborate collection of sports merchandise (I currently own nine jerseys!) and that doesn’t even include my other gear, from hoodies and T-shirts to hats and sweatpants. One could easily ask, “Why so much?” to which I would reason that it’s only fitting for a sports enthusiast to boast a wardrobe full of team merchandise. However, what’s not fitting is the gear itself. The Washington Post  previously reported that just within the National Football League (NFL), women influence 85% of the league’s disposable income decisions. But despite such significant sway, women’s specific sports apparel doesn’t seem to reflect this consumerist influence — V-necks, hourglass silhouettes, and rhinestones are just a few of the embellishments sports apparel brands have added to their selections for women. Much of what you see in this targeted gear, whether bedazzled or small enough to fit a child, feels like something you’d find in a trendy department store as opposed to the Fanatics website. To make matters worse, women’s merchandise also falls victim to the pink tax , another prevalent form of gender-based discrimination that already applies to specific cosmetics and sanitary products — which only inhibits their purchasing decisions in yet another industry. One of the few exceptions to this is Major League Baseball (MLB) jerseys. On the MLB Shop website, a men’s  home replica team jersey for the San Diego Padres costs the same amount ($114.99) as the women’s  equivalent. But a majority of women purchase jerseys sold to the male demographic anyway; why tailor them even more? Christella Santiago, a Parsons School of Design student and diehard Detroit Lions fan, voiced her own distaste for this overly specific gear. “The NFL website still has really weird cuts,” she said. “I’m not a fan of it. I always go and buy the men’s shirts because they’re more comfortable.” Her striving for change takes a less formal stance in her life as well; her love for the Lions was born the moment her dad uttered, “They suck!” when they were watching NFL Redzone one Sunday afternoon. This love for the “underdog,” which she referred to the Lions as, gave her insight into a perspective geared towards minority audiences. And with her own background in fashion studies and marketing, she also posed some alternative design solutions that are more likely to appeal to women, such as “revising the ‘child cut’ and making them looser and more suitable in terms of their length.”  “It would be really cool if there was a collaboration between the NFL and Etsy creators,” Santiago said. “Etsy is a really hidden market and, for sports, it’s mostly women designing for women.” Fortunately, the NFL’s Director of Consumer Products, Rhiannon Madden, acknowledged the research that goes into uncovering what female fans look for in merchandise, even partnering with Victoria’s Secret and Nike to better market to the ever-evolving female fanbase. According to her, the selection for women has significantly increased, extending to plus size, maternity, and even athleisure.  “We’re really looking at the individual customers, since we have such a massive female fanbase,” she told Fashionista . “Forty-five percent of our fanbase is female, so we can’t speak to them all the same way.” However, the predominance of stereotypical designs emphasizing women’s femininity as opposed to what’s really important — the fandom for their sports team — is still there. Rather than proudly displaying where their allegiance lies among leagues composed of dozens of teams, this merchandise seems to argue that their gender identity comes before all else. Kristen Gile, a Washington native and lover of the Seattle Seahawks, shared her own woes of being a female sports fan. Coming from a family of brothers and male cousins, she knows the negative commentary that follows young girls watching football with the hopes of catching a glimpse of pop sensation Taylor Swift.  “It was crazy to see the amount of people that I knew that never watched sports, suddenly watching sports,” Gile said. “It’s perfect, honestly. Even if they see part of the game and don’t know anything about it, it’s still a growing interest for that community.” She notes that several of her female relatives got hooked on playing spectator and participating in all the traditions. The repetition that comes with turning on games every week allows these new fans to gain exposure and begin picking up on the ground rules, converting their casual fandom into something more serious.  In April 2023, a survey conducted in the US by Statista  revealed that approximately 65% of women reported being either casual fans or avid fans of sports. More specifically, interest in football is still predominantly shared among men, with 51% of men reporting as “avid football fans” in another survey  — but that’s continuing to change, especially with influences like Taylor Swift generating more female interest. Even the 2021 SSRS Sports Poll reported that women and girls over the age of 8 make up 46% of the football fan demographic, which approximates to 84 million people. But despite this surge in sports interest amongst women, the merchandise options still haven’t grown enough to accommodate them.  “I remember one of the first pieces I ever bought from the NFL was a women’s shirt,” said Camryn Jansky, an MBA Business Analytics student at the University of Houston. “When I got it, the V-cut was super low and it was so form-fitting. It’s just kind of already sexualizing a woman’s body and I was only 12 years old.”  Stemming from her analytical background, Jansky emphasized the importance of receiving feedback from target audiences, particularly the significance of women’s feelings about their apparel. In a time where posting outfits on social media is a cultural norm, it’s vital to create pieces that are marketable and intentional.  “It’s important that these teams and companies have women on the design and production teams,” said Jansky. “If you’re looking to sell products to women, you have to market them better, especially since more women are entering the sports industry.”  We’ve seen numerous sports motifs within the fashion industry as well, from Alexander McQueen’s  Spring 2005 Ready-to-Wear collection to Tom Ford’s  Ready-to-Wear line in Fall 2014. And while it was particularly thrilling to see helmets and exaggerated shoulder pads make their way off the field and onto the runway, the male gaze could not be more apparent. McQueen’s looks had helmets paired with teeny tiny skirts and Ford’s lineup sported bedazzled, form-fitting dresses. They seem to scream “Girl’s Night Out” and not a party that’s leading to the stadium.  Fortunately, not all hope is lost for women’s merchandise, at least in the football world. Kristin Juszczyk , the fashion designer behind Taylor Swift’s viral #87 puffer jacket, recently signed a deal  with the NFL that allows her to use their branding on her designs. Swift is the highest-profile client Juszczyk has had so far, but she has also designed original pieces for Brittany Mahomes, businesswoman and wife of Kansas City Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahomes, Olympic gymnast Simone Biles, and actor Taylor Lautner.  “I’ve been at this for a few years now, and I’ve been told ‘no’ many times or that we just don’t have the space for that,” J uszczyk told PEOPLE Magazine  in an exclusive interview. “This is something that I’ve been so passionate about. I feel like there’s a huge gap in the market, and I have so many designs that I know women want.”  To effect meaningful change, industry stakeholders must prioritize inclusivity and representation. Gender bias notwithstanding, it also opens several doors to marketing opportunities not just for larger corporations like the NFL Shop and Fanatics, but smaller, women-owned businesses on platforms like Etsy and Depop. This entails incorporating diverse perspectives in design and production practices, like Jansky argued for. The fashion industry offers glimpses of potential, with designers like J uszczyk bridging the gap between fashion and sports, crafting designs that convey the message that women should express their femininity in ways they deem fit.  There’s no one-size-fits-all solution to sports merchandising; it will certainly be an ongoing journey, one that demands collaboration, innovation, and a commitment to celebrating fandom in all of its forms. As female sports enthusiasts continue to assert their presence and influence, the merchandising landscape must evolve to reflect their diverse identities and passions. Only then can sports apparel truly become a symbol of unity and inclusivity for fans of all genders. 🌀 Kea Humilde is a Chargers-obsessed, fashion-forward and self-proclaimed NYC It Girl with a penchant for all things pink. A San Diego girl at heart, she’s making waves as the Deputy Series Editor at The New School Free Press and as a national writer for Her Campus. Picture Sabrina Carpenter, but 2 inches taller, brunette, and just as fierce. You can keep things short n’ sweet by following her @fashionablykea.

The limited edition collection made in collaboration with the Red Roses is the UK’s first wearable report. The past year has been transformative for the England women’s rugby team, otherwise known as the Red Roses. Since the Lionesses’ historic victory against Germany at the Euro’s in 2022, the landscape for women in British team sport has quickly evolved, with opportunities beginning to flood in. However, the euphoric multiple successes of the English women’s football team have received much larger praise than their rugby counterparts.  The current world number ones, the Red Roses proved their merit earlier this year at the Guinness Women’s Six Nations, where 8.1 million viewers tuned in to watch the girls bring home the coveted silverware. “People want to watch some good rugby, and they know that they're going to get that with this Red Roses team,” Red Roses fullback and Olympian Ellie Kildunne  told HALOSCOPE.  As they secured their sixth consecutive Six Nations victory, it was clear to Kildunne that the tides were starting to turn. “To run out and have that many people there,” she said, “It made me feel like it's something that we're gonna have to start getting used to.” This England side holds the longest winning streak by any team, men’s or women’s, in the tournament's history, and yet their popularity amongst the general public is not reflective of their achievements — even if attendance is increasing.  The Rugby Football Union, Women’s Sports Trust, and O2 have come together to deliver a fresh report  as part of a long-term study into the visibility of the Red Roses. This new vital data has formed the basis of a new fashion collection: the UK’s first-ever wearable report designed by 5022 , the creative platform of Kildunne. Featuring key findings from the report, the collection is designed to both hero the achievements of women in rugby and tackle the gender awareness gap in the sport.  “I don't think people are actually fully aware of the statistics and the kind of issues around tackling that gender awareness gap, particularly in what's been a male-dominated sport for years and years and years,” said Sarah Bern , who has an impressive 61 caps for her national team.  The statistics are a clear indication of where women’s rugby is currently standing. “63% of rugby union fans couldn't name one of the England women's players,” Lark Atkin-Davis , who began playing rugby at the age of ten, added, saying, “That's something that obviously you want to see growth in.” Atkin-Davis, Bern, and Kildunne all agree that the latest data should be seen by as many as possible and it is the innate visual aspect of fashion that has made this such an interesting project for them. “People are going to be able to see those sorts of statistics on the clothing and hopefully it will really be a way of educating people,” said Atkin-Davis.  Inspired by the different elements of the report, the limited-edition pieces feature embroidered symbols, abstract visualisations, and, of course, the beloved classic rugby jersey. While some of the tops represent the delineation of rugby and showcase the growth and change that is currently in motion, others shine a light on the presence of women’s rugby in the media and the progress being made to close the gender awareness gap. What they all have in common, however, are the Red Roses’ achievements.  “I'm quite a creative person, anyway, and to have an outlook that is slightly different to rugby, but is also tied in, has been something that's definitely helped me keep ticking,” Kildunne said, having worked on the collection for several months, including during the Six Nations and the Paris Olympics. The conscious decision by O2, the Rugby Football Union, and Women’s Sports Trust to work with Kildunne and the wider team was praised by Bern, who said, “They could have gone to any designer, but they actually chose to go with the Red Roses to help uplift our profile, which will hopefully help grow us as individuals and as a team.” Kildunne agrees and believes this sort of partnership is the way forward for player involvement, saying that brands should, “Do something a bit off-piste, do something that they haven't done before and take that leap.”  Gareth Griffith, Director of Partnerships and Sponsorships at Virgin Media O2, concurs, saying in a statement: “We want to help drive positive change in the sport, and gender parity is at the top of our priority list. Sometimes you have to make a statement to be heard and that’s exactly what this fashion collection does.” He added, “We will never stop calling on fans to join us in stepping up for the Red Roses.”  For Kildunne, this will not be her only foray into the creative sphere. “I very much enjoyed it and I know I want to do something like this again and it's definitely got my brain ticking on what else I can do to close that gap off the pitch.” The future is bright for this Red Roses squad, who will see the Women’s Rugby World Cup come to their home country in the summer of 2025. “We're definitely looking for a WXV title again. We're looking to get another Six Nations title if we can. It's definitely quite inspirational for those goals, but they’re targets that I think we can achieve if we work hard together,” Bern said of the work that lies ahead. Off the pitch, the aim is to continue growing their brand in hopes of greater support. “When we do get to that World Cup, it's not just Oh, I didn't know they were playing , it's, Oh, I've been waiting for this. I really enjoy them in the Six Nations and I'm gonna go and watch those games. And actually, I'm also gonna go watch South Africa versus Scotland or something .” In Bern’s eyes, it’s not just for the Red Roses, “It's for the whole of women's rugby.”  O2 and Virgin Media broadband customers can get their hands on the exclusive collection via Priority from O2  from Monday, 9th September, 2024. 🌀 Molly Elizabeth  is a freelance fashion writer and commentator based in London.

"It only takes one video or post catching the right eye to turn this hobby into something you do full-time — like it did with me." Every Stitch is a new interview series asking fashion’s new creative class how they manage their closets, lives, and careers. Kayli Sandoval is a Creative Director & Editor based in New York and L.A. Her bright, frenetic, sharp-as-candy work — which mixes print media with the video textures of the '80s and '90s — has amassed over 12 million likes on TikTok and is changing the way artists are interacting with the platform itself. Here’s how Kayli picks up every stitch. The self-appointed work uniform: My go-to work attire consists of absolutely anything comfy — typically a hoodie and some loose shorts. As a creative professional, I often work irregular hours, frequently extending into the middle of the night. For this reason, I predominantly work and grind from the comfort of my own room. However, on the days I get out of the house to work from a cute cafe in the city, you can almost always find me in thrifted baggy denim, layered tops, and tons of accessories. The journey to becoming a creative director: After graduating high school, I pursued higher education with the idea of becoming a professional journalist and focusing full-time on my writing. Suddenly, COVID-19 hit the second semester of my first year. I moved back into my family home, attended school online, and tackled my first existential crisis (of many) in adulthood. This ultimately led me to download TikTok, reigniting my inherent creative spark and motivating me to consistently post my work online. After quickly achieving some online success, I pivoted the direction of my career and worked tirelessly to finish school to dedicate myself fully to my creative projects. By networking with other creatives and building a community online, I was able to build a foundation for the career I am now so grateful to have. The hardest project she's ever worked on: I cannot pinpoint one project that was more challenging than the others; however, I can certainly admit that any passion project of mine is typically where I place the most pressure on myself. It is also these personal projects that often lead me to disregard a normal sleep schedule (work/life balance is def something I am still working to improve). With the aim of constantly leveling up and surpassing expectations, I am frequently more critical of myself than I probably should be. The way she gets her creative juices flowing: Since the beginning of my career in the creative industry, I have consistently sought inspiration from movies and music.  Some musicians who have significantly influenced and inspired me include A$AP Rocky, Tyler, the Creator, and Pharrell. Additionally, one of the most influential movies in my creative work has to be Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023). The art of risk-taking: I take risks with every new project I undertake. I fear creating art that is mundane and foreseeable — and I strive to avoid producing work that closely resembles anything I’ve already done. Nevertheless, I am always open to experimenting with new styles, unfamiliar tools, and innovative methods of achieving a desired look (i.e., the use of artificial intelligence) and adapting it into my own! The idea of "making it": As grateful and utterly happy as I am in the place I stand in the creative industry, I think there is much more I must accomplish before feeling as though I’ve truly “made it.” As a second-generation Mexican-American, the values of hard work and persistence have been deeply ingrained in me by preceding generations. I want to inspire the masses, take care of my family, and truly make meaningful art in this world. I’m taking my career step-by-step, day-by-day, and allowing myself to learn new things constantly. I love where I am — and I’m even more excited for where I will be. The discarding of the rulebook: In the act of creating, I genuinely do not think there is a set of rules to adhere to.  As the Internet can significantly influence the success of emerging creatives, there is often an emphasis on the concept of “niching down.” HOT TAKE: I disagree. Be your authentic self, make stuff that resonates with YOU, share your passions with the world, and that community you desire will naturally follow. The advice she'd give burgeoning creatives: The best advice I can give burgeoning creatives is to (1) teach yourself to not give a f*** about the way others perceive you and your work, and (2) use the Internet to your advantage!!!! It is genuinely unfathomable the way we have hundreds of thousands of eyes accessible at the tip of our fingers. Post, post, post! The world deserves to see your art, and it only takes one video or post catching the right eye to turn this hobby into something you do full-time — like it did with me.  🌀