But then the focus drifted elsewhere, and the tone began to shift. Why were the lords of Amazon sitting in the front row? Was this connected to Mrs. Bezos appearing on the Vogue cover?

Nobody liked seeing Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánche in the front row, and it didn’t land quietly. Loud whispers suggested Bezos might be considering media acquisitions, adding Vogue, or perhaps even the whole Condé Nast group, to his portfolio, which might explain rubbing shoulders with Anna Wintour. It made everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats (and by that I mean holding nothing back as they shared commentary about the couple, their aspirations, and Sanchez’s appearance and style).

Which was also when many people remembered — right, aren’t they hosting the most influential event in fashion this year?

A Different Kind of Host

The Met Gala is, at its core, a fundraising event held on the first Monday in May to support the Costume Institute at the Met - though most people know it as fashion’s biggest party, where everybody walks the famous stairs in over-the-top outfits. This year’s exhibition theme is costume art, and the dress code that is declared each year anew is “fashion is art” - “examining the centrality of the dressed body”.

For years, the event’s financial backbone has largely come from corporate sponsors rather than individual patrons. This year, there’s a noticeable shift, with a “reported seven-figure contribution” from Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez Bezos, making them lead sponsors for the 2026 exhibition and Gala. Brand support remains: Saint Laurent, and, as always, Condé Nast.

This development is not completely abrupt. Bezos has contributed to the Costume Institute on various occasions since 2012, but the scale and visibility of the couple’s involvement have escalated quickly, cue Sánchez entering Bezos’ universe, and consequently penetrating ours.

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The couple’s initial rollout into the fashion world (which will soon escalate into what feels like a hostile takeover) was in 2024 at the Met Gala. They skipped 2025 to ruin people’s Italian summers, aggravating local residents into protest, and shortly after that, Sánchez appeared on a solo digital Vogue cover, sealed in bridal Dolce & Gabbana. The dress took 900 hours of atelier work and was inspired by the wedding dress Sophia Loren wore to marry Cary Grant in the 1958 film Houseboat.

Patronage has always existed in fashion and museums, but in a time when it seems that everybody is selling out, the oligarch funding of the Met Gala - once the epitome of exclusivity and taste - lands differently.

This used to be an event for the fashion elite, where Anna Wintour famously decided who would appear and make a huge leap in their career, and who would be left out, awaiting better luck next year.

Luxury: From Luster to Polyester

Starting May 10, the show will inaugurate the Museum’s new Galleries. This opening and the physical move from the dungeon-like lower levels to the sunny, elevated first floor felt symbolic in its own way.

While the collections may finally enjoy basking in the sun, you can’t really say the same about the fashion industry overall, and the luxury sector in particular.

In case you blinked, it’s possible you missed the downpour of high–low collabs springing up daily, like mushrooms after rain — Galliano for Zara, Chavarria for Zara, Victoria Beckham for Gap, Stella McCartney for H&M — just to mention a few recent ones. These “capsule collections,” when executed well, used to feel like a special offering from the fast-fashion giants. Now they just feel like yet another merch drop, turning everything into repetitive and forgettable.

And here’s the part that bothers me: it’s not the collaborations themselves, it’s the framing around them — selling end customers the same low-quality garments but now calling it “accessible luxury,” while jacking up prices. It’s the greenwashing, the language laundering, and the overall dilution of craftsmanship and artistry, with high-end brand names attached at a mass-market scale.

Repeat After Me: You Can’t Buy Taste

You can’t opt out of them, tech moguls, now can you? Even fashion is no longer a safe space. Listen, I’m not naive, money makes the world go round, but can’t you at least buy me dinner first? Can’t you make the minimal effort of finding Lauren Sánchez the right stylist to make her look like she might actually belong in the realm of a fashion persona that she so desperately wants and tries to become? Instead of making it look like you're getting her the pony she pointed at, saying, “I want this.”

It feels like the speedy delivery of an unwanted Amazon package, only there’s no return address. Fashion has always been about access, and historically it came with a certain… choreography.

The Met Gala isn’t just another soirée - it’s uniquely symbolic because it sits at the intersection of museum culture, celebrity culture, philanthropy, and fashion legitimacy. Attending, co-chairing, and certainly leading the event with such forceful visibility signals something broader about who holds influence and who rules the ball.

Some demure in both appearance and tactics could’ve served them much better in the public eye. Of course, none of this seems to concern the couple, and apparently, what makes Mrs. Sánchez happy is her husband buying her the party of the year.

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As promised in my last 7-minute mom edit, we’re keeping it real and short. I still very much love and use all of the products mentioned in that mini guide (apparently, I’m a very consistent person lol), so you can definitely check it out.

Today, I’ll just be focusing on some new products I’m trying and purchasing to add some color to my spring/summer routines.

So let’s jump into it. Links are not affiliated.

The sale wraps up on April 20, so there’s still time if you're making a list.

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If you love a good mask (who doesn’t?) and you’re not familiar with the Clarins Cryo-Flash Instant Lift Effect & Glow Boosting Face Mask (or the depuffer), I highly recommend giving it a go. The smoothing effect is noticeable, and the cooling sensation is exquisite. We’ll probably need it daily if the summer ends up as hot as this random Tuesday.

I’ve been focusing on amplifying moisture and improving my skin barrier (which helps skin look healthier and smoother). At that point, I kept hearing a lot about the Skinfix products, and I have to say — after using the Barrier+ Triple Lipid Activating Serum with Plumping Peptides and Niacinamide together with the Triple Lipid-Peptide Cream Refillable Barrier Moisturizer with Ceramides, I’ve genuinely noticed my skin looking more vibrant. So these will definitely be restocked.

And speaking of hydration — this one is admittedly a bit of a splurge. Still, I can justify almost anything that promises plumping hydration that I can actually use at a stage when I’m banned from all the active goodies. So I’m also purchasing the Dior serum — purely in the name of hydration and optimism.

For more skincare recs and products I still love, read here.

Under the category of things I use and repurchase, I’m restocking a long-time favorite:

Shiseido Ultimate Sun Protector Clear Stick SPF 60+
This one is a non-negotiable. It allows you to reapply sunscreen every few hours without ruining your makeup or tint. It lives in my bag year-round.

Oh — and of course we’ll be restocking on the magic Elemis Pro-Collagen Makeup Melting Cleansing Balm.

I swear the only reason I even wear any amount of makeup is because I know how easily it’ll be removed with this balm at night. I don’t need another struggle in my evening routine — on top of getting my toddlers fed and bathed, that is.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a Sephora sale if I didn’t give in to trying a few more lip products.

These were both highly recommended in-store and heavily hyped online:

Rhode Peptide Lip Boost Plumping Lip Mask — it’s one of those products everyone is obsessed with, and I want to be in on it too.

EADEM Le Chouchou Exfoliating + Softening Peptide Lip Balm — intrigued by the gentle exfoliation element, but the shade I’m after (Sakura Shaved Ice, a very pretty pink) is sold out online, and at the local Sephora I visited today, so we’ll see.

I’ve also been a fan of Make Up For Ever Lip Liners, and after swatching the new shade 234 (cool pink nude), I’m officially sold. I’ve been loving doing a bit of liner and whatever lip balm I have on hand - easy, hydrating, and gives definition.

A few newer additions I’m excited to try out!

ciele tint & PROTECT Medium Coverage Serum Foundation SPF 50+
Feels extremely comfortable on the skin, and the built-in SPF 50 is a very nice bonus. (I still wear SPF underneath and reapply. And wear a hat.)

DIOR Forever Glow Maximizer Longwear Liquid Highlighter
Fell in love with this when I tried it in-store — it gives full-on mermaid vibes, in the best possible way.

MAKEUP BY MARIO SurrealSkin® Talc-Free Soft Blur Setting Powder
I’m not usually a powder person, but sometimes you just need that setting effect — and if it blurs pores in the process, why not? Reviews are raving, and the Sephora assistant personally vouched for it.

NATASHA DENONA Luxe Glam Compact Quad Eyeshadow Palette
This feels like the only quad I’ll need for travel — or when putting on makeup for a nice dinner. The swatches were incredibly smooth and pigmented. Love.

Also, picked up Sol de Janeiro Refresco Paraíso Hair & Body Perfume Mist
because the salesperson said it’s a limited edition and that’s the fastest way to sell anything to me. It smells amazing (not overly sweet, which is rare in this category) and feels very summer-ready.

LMK what’s on your must-buy list — there are still a few more days left in the sale, and clearly I’m an easy target!

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From what I’m seeing here on Substack and across the web, the “it girl summer” has evolved into “it girl brands.” While that’s not something I’m automatically drawn to, I do like being in the know — and I suspect you do too.

As someone who lives in New York, I’m pretty much immersed in the Khaite/The Row allure and aesthetic. If you’re on social, there’s no escaping that moment in time when you decide - “well, I just need my whole closet to consist solely of these few brands.” (Alaïa is my personal weakness.)

And while I agree these brands possess a very strong IT factor, not everyone can, or wants to, build their entire wardrobe (and personality) around them. IMO, building a whole look from a single brand is a little… well, boring. One of my favorite parts of spending time online is discovering brands that help you branch out and try something new.

So here I am, mostly window-shopping. The responsible consumer in me won’t allow the purchase of hard pants (or hard anything, honestly) at this stage — with my body changing weekly. Instead, I’m leaning into personality accents and ease of wear while weaving in plenty of it-girl style/cool-girl brands along the way. (Links are not affiliated.)

Enjoyed this? Subscribe here for more.

At the end of the day, it’s really not about the “right” items or brands — it’s about how these clothes make us feel and how they fit into our daily lives and routines.

The subtle but unmistakable boost of confidence they allow — whether it’s the perfect white tee or an exquisite piece of jewelry.

Hope this piece gave you some inspo — and that you came across something new.

xx,
Ilana

P.S. While curating these looks, I came across a few more honorable mentions — I’ll be sharing them in the subscriber chat, so hop in if you’re curious.

Thanks for being part of The Aligned Edit. If you liked what you read, sharing your thoughts or passing it along truly helps <3

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IMO, sales like these are a good time to build on your existing jewelry, bags, and shoes collection — and/or grab the seasonal goodies you need, so you’re not stuck when the weather gods finally bestow warmer days upon us.

So here it is — what stood out to me, along with a few ideas for how I’d style it

Happy browsing — and may the weather gods cooperate sooner rather than later.

xo

Ilana

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First of all, this is just how people dressed in the ’90s. The examples are endless. And like I often say about Zendaya — or any other attractive, tall, slender woman — it’s actually quite hard to make them look bad.

I wonder: if CBK had been deeply into 17th-century–inspired dressing, would we all be romanticizing lace collars right now, and would the associated brands be enjoying their day in the PR sun?

While I appreciate the quiet power of black-and-white minimalism, I didn’t survive a New York winter just to emerge into April dressed like February never ended.

Spring, to me, should feel like relief — a loosening, a return to personality. Not uniform dressing disguised as good taste.

And while we’re all busy obsessing over CBK minimalism, I can’t help but wonder why Jackie O — arguably one of the greatest masters of personal style — isn’t a bigger part of this conversation.

Here are a few outfits — and a few cool girl/mom pieces — to consider as we all breathe in the fresh air of spring (soon to be known as pollen season).

Minimalism has its place — but spring always asks for a little more personality

Thanks for being part of The Aligned Edit. If you liked what you read, sharing your thoughts or passing it along truly helps <3

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It’s my birthday week, which felt like a good moment to pause and reflect — not just on what I’ve enjoyed, but on what this year quietly taught me.

The moment I truly fell in love with fashion:

Most people experience fashion through shopping.

If that’s the only way you engage with it, you’re missing most of what makes it interesting. Fashion is one of the few places where you can watch culture change in real time — if you know how to look.

I started this newsletter last summer, almost on instinct.

My second baby had just turned one, his older brother was three and a half, and I felt a very specific need: to have a space that was entirely mine — somewhere my thoughts could go that wasn’t anchored in daily life.

I didn’t know what I would write about.
I didn’t feel ready — and I definitely didn’t feel like I had anything “figured out.”

Less than a year later, this has become one of the most meaningful parts of my week.

One thing I’ve been hearing lately is that people feel like they actually learn something here.
Friends share with me how they start noticing things they didn’t notice before. It’s about gaining perspective — and a sharper way of looking at fashion.

Starting something like this teaches you very quickly that the clichés are, unfortunately, true.

Everything takes longer and is harder than you initially think — and not in a dramatic way, just in the quiet, consistent effort it requires.

Most of it is simply showing up when nothing happens. Writing, posting, thinking — without immediate feedback, without momentum, without any clear signal that it’s working.

And then, slowly, something starts to move.

Motherhood sharpened this for me.

It didn’t make me less ambitious — it made me more precise.
I have less time, but a much clearer sense of what’s worth my attention.

The way I think about fashion has also shifted.

Getting dressed isn’t about replicating what you see — it’s about translating it into your own life.

Sometimes, the smallest detail — the right cut, the right proportion, and of course the right accessory — can change everything.

A few things I kept coming back to this year:

Wearing pieces that feel like me — not just what’s “current.”
Protecting my energy — not everything deserves access to it.
Keeping a good book going — it changes how the day feels.
Resting without guilt.
And, occasionally, buying the bag.

If you’ve ever felt like fashion is more interesting than just “what to wear,” you’ll feel at home here.

Off to have some cake now,

xo

Ilana

Fashion is often described as escapism, but it rarely ignores the world’s atmosphere.

Designers absorb the emotional climate of their time — consciously and instinctively — and the clothes that appear on the runway often reveal different ways of negotiating the world we live in.

While many people said this season of Paris Fashion Week felt detached from current events, I found more than one example to the contrary. The collections didn’t converge around a single aesthetic or silhouette. Instead, they offered different responses to the global climate.

Louis Vuitton — Collectively Cute

The designer drew inspiration from nature filtered through fantasy: mountains became sculptural shoulders, forests became fuzzy textures, and people became something closer to mythical creatures.

The runway itself became a whimsical landscape. That sense of charm carried through the details. Lambs and other pastoral creatures, drawn from the work of Ukrainian artist Nazar Strelyaev-Nazarko, introduced a deliberately naïve note, while mineral-like buttons and antler-shaped heels pushed the collection further into the realm of storybook imagination.

Louis Vuitton may operate at the commercial center of luxury, but the runway still gives Ghesquière room to be eccentric and surreal. The result was an avant-garde collection that, to me, felt like it offered a bit of armor against the world, while hiding the whimsy and softness inside.

Fun fact: Nicolas Ghesquière asked Jeremy Hindle, the set designer behind Severance, to create the show’s landscape. The Cour Carrée of the Louvre was transformed into rolling green terrain echoing the Jura Mountains where Ghesquière grew up.

Chanel’s Construction Site

Whether the global mood makes you want to dance into escapism or retreat into something darker, there seemed to be an option for everyone on Chanel’s construction site.

For his sophomore collection, Matthieu Blazy continued what feels like an ongoing conversation with Gabrielle Chanel herself. As in his earlier work at the house, he handles the codes with reverence while treating them as something still in progress—quite literally, with cranes looming over the runway—slowly building his own interpretation of what Chanel means today.

For Blazy, Chanel is a house built on paradox. Drawing on Gabrielle Chanel’s idea that fashion must both “crawl and fly”—practical and eccentric at once—he described the house as a constant negotiation between opposites: function and fantasy, restraint and seduction, day and night.

The soundtrack mirrored that tension. The show moved between more sombre tones and bursts of energy before ending with Lady Gaga’s Just Dance, which filled the Grand Palais and tilted the mood firmly toward joy.

Miu Miu - M for Melancholy?

The human remained in focus: person before presentation.

“Sometimes it’s completely stripped back, and sometimes it’s embroidered, but it’s just to say that as a human person you are enough,” Miuccia Prada said. “You have yourself, you have your mind, and that should be enough against whatever happens.” They were poignant words at the close of a Fall/Winter 2026 season.

If you know Miuccia, you expect something intellectual and cerebral. This time was no different, though the mood felt even more stripped back — and perhaps a little melancholic. The Miu Miu “girlie” has matured into a woman: simple silhouettes, a touch of embroidery, and a mood that feels more introspective than in past seasons.

On a grassy, down-to-earth runway, Prada reinforced that idea with a personality-driven cast that included Chloë Sevigny, Gillian Anderson, and Gemma Ward.

Dior’s Joy and Princess Dream

Set in the Tuileries Garden, Anderson drew inspiration from the tradition of the public garden promenade — that distinctly Parisian ritual where fashion and the act of being seen go hand in hand. For centuries, these gardens have served as informal runways: places where people stroll, observe one another, and quietly display their identities through clothing. We still participate in the ritual today — though in my case it’s less Tuileries promenade and more a playground stroll.

The clothes followed that same idea of romantic visibility. Familiar Dior codes — the Bar jacket, structured waists, and frock-like silhouettes — appeared softened, almost blooming, echoing the surrounding garden. There was something intentionally dreamy about it all, like stepping into a living illustration of Dior’s long-standing love affair with flowers and femininity.

If Anderson’s romantic mood signals a broader societal return to the princess dream, it’s not entirely surprising. In uncertain moments, fashion has often leaned toward fantasy — not as a denial of reality, but as a way of briefly stepping outside it.

Prada — Creative Sustainability, Without Saying It

Fifteen models, four exits each. For FW2026, Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons turned layering into a reflection on time, identity, and the quiet politics stitched into our clothes.

“We started from the idea of layering — complexity — which exists in history, in politics, in life,” Miuccia Prada said. Clothes, in that sense, become a way of mapping those layers: different personalities, moments, and sentiments worn together in the course of a single day.

The slightly timeworn aesthetic appeared here as in previous seasons, attuned to the shifting economic climate. Prada offers a lifestyle and a point of view as much as individual garments. Some will buy the deliberately worn-looking coat from the boutique on Broadway and Prince; others may chase the same spirit at a thrift store or in an online resale market. And that, in many ways, is the point: a vision that is desirable, yet ultimately replicable at a lower cost.

On the runway, those layers slowly revealed fragments of the past — classical statue prints, faded florals, worn embroideries — suggesting that identity is never replaced, only adjusted.

As Prada herself put it, understanding where we come from may be the only way to move clearly through the present.

How to move through an uncertain world?

Over the last month of shows, brands and designers have grappled with the same underlying tension — between the realities of the world outside, and the role fashion should play within it. In a time of escalating global uncertainty, do we respond with defiant creativity or with austere restraint?

Whether through Miuccia Prada’s layered histories, Miu Miu’s stripped-back humanity, Blazy’s paradox at Chanel, or Ghesquière’s whimsical landscapes at Louis Vuitton, each collection proposed its own strategy for moving through the present moment. Perhaps that is fashion’s real role in uneasy times: not to solve the tension of the world, but to show us different ways of living inside it.

It finally feels like we might be emerging from the winter trenches. The possibility of leaving the house without being fully armored in a single giant garment — otherwise known as your dramatically necessary winter coat (remember those -4°F days? brrr) — suddenly feels very real.

Which inevitably leads to spring shopping.

As someone who loves fashion but tries to keep my wardrobe relatively restrained, I’ve realized that the formula that works best for me — especially as a mom of two toddler boys — is quite simple: a few reliable staples that always work, paired with accessories that make the outfit feel intentional.

Lately, I’ve been eyeing a handful of pieces that feel unmistakably spring. I always find it helpful when people show how they’d actually style a piece, and not just the item itself, so here’s my attempt at doing the same.

Spring Outfits Currently On My Radar

If you’ve spotted something great lately — fashion, books, shows — I’m all ears.

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Every season, the same argument pops up on cue:
New York Fashion Week is boring. It’s lost relevance. It’s nothing compared to Paris.

While people are busy debating the spectacle, NYFW is doing what it has always done best — shaping what real women will actually wear next.

To cut through the noise this season, I looked at runway analytics from Tagwalk — and the numbers tell a far more interesting story than the usual NYFW hot takes.

Before we dive into specific details, two bigger themes stood out this season: the antidote to AI showing up as messiness — or, as New York fashion bloggers would call it, the “undoneness” of a look — along with a color story that leaned far more neutral than spring usually suggests.

Let’s start with the former.

Think disheveled imperfection in the best way: undone hair, slightly off styling, or that early-2000s, Jenny Humphrey-esque energy that feels lived-in rather than overly composed.

Personally, as a mom of two under four who considers it a true luxury to have twenty minutes to get ready (and that’s a big if), I fully welcome the relaxed aesthetic. I silently thank the fashion gods every time they steer us toward elastic bands, messy hair, and flip-flops as a legitimate style direction. It feels similar to what we saw last summer — just with a cooler, more considered edge.

That sense of deliberate imperfection wasn’t just abstract mood-setting — it showed up directly on the runway. 7 For All Mankind, in particular, made quite a splash with a debut that leaned into an early-2000s “It girl” aesthetic: skinny denim, babydoll silhouettes, layered styling, bold accessories, and platforms.

Beyond silhouettes and styling, this season’s color story told its own narrative — and it wasn’t particularly spring-y.

New York Fashion Week leaned hard into a monochromatic palette, with only small injections of color breaking through. Think blacks, greys, warm browns, creams, and deep neutrals dominating the runway.

It reads like a wardrobe built for longevity and real life — practical, versatile, meant to last beyond one season. That said, as most of us are already living in plenty of real life, a few unexpected pops of color in spring wouldn’t hurt.

I thought it’d be interesting to look at the analytical side of what showed up most on the runway — since these are usually the details that trickle down into our everyday wardrobes through the high street.

The Unexpected One: Velvet Is Having a Real Moment

There was a +376% uptick in velvet this season. It surged across collections in a big way — not in a costume-y, holiday kind of way, but as a core fabric for tailoring, dresses, and outerwear.

If you’re raising an eyebrow, you’re not alone — not because velvet feels vintage, but because this was a Spring–Summer season. Velvet… in warm weather?

Naturally, curiosity led to a little window shopping. There were velvet-trim wedge sandals (which, I suppose, could work for spring) and an airy Dôen blouse finished with the softest velvet detail — the kind of piece you could actually imagine wearing to an early dinner.

It makes me wonder if velvet is shifting from “special occasion only” into everyday elevated dressing.

I’m not fully sold yet — but I’m intrigued. What do you think?

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The Sexy One: Slits Are Back — But Grown Up

Slits were everywhere this season, with a surge of +160%, but not only in the obvious, look-at-me red-carpet way.

We saw them on tailored skirts styled like corporate cool, alongside sweeping evening gowns at Ralph Lauren. They cut through coats, slipped into denim skirts that would otherwise feel too stiff to walk in, and showed up across silhouettes meant for real movement.

Runway reports kept flagging slits as a recurring motif. You could read it as a nod to a broader 2020s aesthetic: a wardrobe built around confidence through comfort and motion, rather than freeze-frame glamour. It feels very New York. Sexy, yes — but also functional, and purposeful.

The Easy One: Lace Isn’t Going Anywhere (It’s Just Getting Cooler)

Lace rose by +369% this season — and it might be the easiest trend to fold into everyday life, mostly because you probably already own some version of it.

What I loved about how it showed up was the shift in attitude: less boho-bride, more romantic with edge. Attendees wore it in all its forms — sheer skirts, layered tops, and even toughened up with ripped tights and oversized tees. If you’re not ready to commit to head-to-toe lace, even a subtle trim peeking out from under a chunky sweater does the trick.

Lace isn’t just for special moments anymore — it’s officially part of the everyday wardrobe. I’ve included a few easy ways to try it in the last letter.

The Fun One: Fringe Is Fashion’s New Movement Obsession

Fringe is one of those trends that has historically been coded as either festival boho or full costume. I started incorporating it last year — and was beyond happy to find a fringed leather jacket (on TRR) — so I felt personally validated seeing it surge by +212% on the runway this season.

In 2026, fringe showed up across runways and NYFW street style as intentional texture rather than aftermarket ornamentation. Sometimes it enhanced movement, swaying with each step; other times it simply drew the eye, adding depth and dimension to otherwise clean silhouettes.

So, Is NYFW “Dead”?

When people compare New York to Paris, they’re often comparing fashion fantasy to wearability. Paris will always deliver couture spectacle — it is institutional, historical, built around salons and dream worlds that feel intentionally removed from daily life.

New York operates differently. Even a house like Chanel, under Matthieu Blazy, chose to go underground — staging a show in the subway, under fluorescent lights, in a space defined by movement rather than marble. That decision felt symbolic. Luxury wasn’t placed on a pedestal; it was dropped directly into the rhythm of the city (I wrote about it here).

That rhythm is what New York Fashion Week has always reflected.

NYFW isn’t about suspending reality; it’s about dressing women for it. For the woman who commutes, works, walks quickly between meetings, who goes out after, who needs her wardrobe to carry her through a full day of living.

The trends this season reinforce that idea: velvet reimagined, slits designed for movement, lace layered thoughtfully, fringe integrated into construction.

So the next time someone casually declares “NYFW is dead” over coffee, you’ll know exactly why it isn’t — it’s just busy dressing real life.

At Chanel, romance appeared through a focus on the body and movement. Matthieu Blazy’s inspiration included a wall covered with birds and a poem titled "A Bird on a Mushroom." With an entry point like that, how could the result be anything but romantic? Blazy put the body first—how fabric responds to it, follows it, releases around it. The collection carried a sense of lightness, physical and mental. The sheerness of the clothes was deliberate, and the lucky ones who got to explore the collection in person said they weighed absolutely nothing. Romance lived in the way the fabric moved with the body through space.

Dior’s vision of romance centered on admiration and dialogue. For Spring/Summer 2026 Haute Couture, Jonathan Anderson drew inspiration from other disciplines, inviting craft beyond fashion to shape the collection. Among the primary influences, the work of artist Magdalene Odundo offered a pivotal lens — one that reframed couture through the poetics of sculpture. Her ceramic forms informed silhouettes, bringing softness and structure into quiet conversation.

That same spirit extended into the accessories. Anderson collaborated with textile artist Sheila Hicks to reinterpret the Lady Dior bag through texture, movement, and a sense of play, turning an iconic house symbol into something tactile and alive. Both women attended the show in the front row, a visible gesture of creative lineage and support. Nature ran through the collection — organic forms, tactility, the quiet excitement of discovery. It felt intimate in a different way: romance as curiosity, as respect, as the pleasure of being moved by someone else’s work.

Schiaparelli leaned into romance through spectacle and emotion. Daniel Roseberry, too, turned to the animal world, but rendered it with intensity rather than softness. The show’s theme — agony and ecstasy — sat between the theatrical and the religious, and it was palpable. You could feel the agony, then the relief of ecstasy—feelings most of us recognize from falling in love and seeking the assurance of being seen by another. Desire and feelings sat at the center of the collection.

And finally, I couldn’t leave this creation out. This sculptural piece by Gaurav Gupta was inspired by the human nervous system and the flow of energy, but can you honestly look at it and not think of lovers? Relationships? The idea of dependence between two entities—bodies, souls—is so strong that it feels like a tangible link between the two. Bodies linked, circulation shared. Romance rendered as anatomy, impossible to separate or ignore.

Across these collections, one thread kept resurfacing: nature—birds, animals, organic forms, the body itself. Fashion’s fascination with the natural world isn’t new, but this season it felt pointed. Yes, nature is beautiful, but it’s also an escape, a place to look when daily realities feel too sharp. And so nature, in its romantic manifestations, became a form of refuge. What further linked these collections wasn’t a shared aesthetic, but a shared willingness to engage emotionally. Couture this season didn’t feel guarded or ironic.

This season, couture didn’t just reflect romance—it helped set the emotional tone for now and into Q1. Surprisingly, this isn’t a one-week Valentine’s spike. It’s been building since the end of last year, gradually filtering into how romance shows up in everyday fashion—through lace, the trick-playing sheerness of organza and chiffon, and the structural return of peplum.

How Romance Translates to Real Wardrobes

I’m not a huge trend person. I don’t really believe in full-blown aesthetic shifts or changing my personality because fashion says so. But I do like to switch it up once in a while—to embrace a certain notion for a season rather than a complete reinvention.

As a mom of two toddler boys, I’ve leaned (hard) into my practical, it-has-to-have-pockets side of life. With the change of seasons, I’m finding myself craving a bit more softness again, a return to something more feminine.

The brands have definitely read the memo, as finding just the right piece proved to be quite easy. Here are a few pieces I’m considering, and how I’d style them. Links (not affiliated) included, in case you want to check them out:

Starting strong with this perfect red top — instant Valentine’s-date energy in under five minutes.
Pair it with denim and your favorite boots for low-effort chic (and expect compliments).

Another strong Valentine’s option: this dress, paired with your favorite oversized leather jacket and a soft hair up-do?
Umm, yes.

Had to include this little number — I immediately pictured it under an oversized white button-down, just peeking out slightly. Your leaning-sexy-cocktail-hour option.

And a few day-to-night chocolate-brown pieces for your consideration.
I love that these tops and skirts can easily be layered with a big cozy sweater, peeking out underneath — that feminine, flowy contrast is what makes the outfit feel interesting. From the left: laced top, skirt, chiffon shirt.

These feel to me like small, thoughtful additions—pieces that soften an outfit, add some whimsy to my otherwise very practical wardrobe, and make getting dressed feel a little more exciting again.

Which piece would you try — and which couture moment stayed with you most this season?

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There are fashion shows that demand a reaction (who said Dior menswear?) and those that demand attention. Valentino’s Haute Couture presentation this season fell decisively into the latter category — a show that resisted speed, refused easy capture, and made the act of looking feel deliberate again.

SPECULA MUNDI (Latin for “mirrors of the world”) was Alessandro Michele’s first couture show for the house following the passing of Valentino Garavani just a few days prior. The emotional weight of the moment reshaped how the collection was presented and received — not as a debut, but as an act of stewardship carried out in real time.

A runway replaced by a viewing device

The show began with Valentino’s voice in the background, sharing his love of the cinema, where the inspiration and desire to “dress beautiful women” was born.

Rather than a traditional catwalk, guests were seated around a circular structure modeled after a Kaiserpanorama — a 19th-century viewing apparatus that allowed multiple spectators to observe images individually through small portholes.

Each person watched alone. And yet, everyone watched at the same time.

The Kaiserpanorama was a commercial, ticketed form of mass entertainment, not a niche intellectual experiment. Invented in 1880 by German entrepreneur Auguste Fuhrmann, it appeared in dedicated venues across Europe and was explicitly designed for broad, paying audiences, long before cinema entered the mainstream. If you’re wondering what people paid to watch back in the day, the photographs often depicted current events, distant cities, disasters, and everyday life, serving as early visual reportage.

I majored in psychology and communication, and this presentation genuinely stopped me in my tracks on both levels. “The medium is the message” is one of the first things you learn as a communications student, but it’s rare to see it applied this literally. Here, the structure of the viewing experience mattered as much as the garments.

From a psychological perspective, it was also an inversion of the power dynamics of couture and fashion viewing. You could not see everything. You could not record it easily. You had to stay still. That slightly eerie, isolating way of looking was bound to leave a deeper impression. It wasn’t just about what you saw, but how you were made to see it.

The structure turned couture into a ritual of focused observation. Guests peered through small windows into presentation rooms where models stood momentarily illuminated, then vanished. No walking. No shared frontal view straight to IG stories.

As Michele’s show notes suggest, this was a space where “the image doesn’t overwhelm the spectator — it educates him.” It teaches you to focus the gaze, pause, and take it in.

In an industry - and a world - increasingly designed for instant consumption, the insistence on slowness feels almost radical.

Opening with the house code

The collection began with a drop-waisted gown in Valentino red — perhaps a homage, and the only obvious one.

From there, the collection moved fluidly across decades. Showgirl feathers appeared early, nodding to classic stage and screen glamour, while Elizabethan-style collars returned as sculptural neckpieces, pulling the focus upward and turning each look into something closer to a portrait. These were garments designed less for movement than for being held in place and carefully observed.

Throughout the collection, headpieces, neckpieces, jewelry, and gloves carried as much narrative weight as the gowns themselves. Accessories didn’t decorate the looks — they completed them. Couture here was cumulative, built from the aggregation of details rather than a single dominant gesture.

Erté, Art Deco, and the pleasure of excess

Michele has spoken about drawing heavily from the work of Erté, the Art Deco illustrator and designer whose elongated figures, graphic opulence, and theatrical glamour defined early 20th-century visual culture. That influence was unmistakable.

Michele didn’t pin the collection to a single era. Instead, he let references overlap — the ’30s next to the ’80s, couture history mixed with costume — all while staying true to the house codes, in a very Alessandro Michele way.

Couture as costume, costume as art

I can’t help playing a quiet betting game while looking at this collection — who might end up wearing what on the Met steps. Especially this year, with the theme Costume Art, exploring fashion’s relationship to fine art and the dressed body. Several looks here feel almost destined for that moment: sculptural necklines, operatic headpieces, gowns that read as complete visual compositions.

This one, in particular, is giving me Margot Robbie. Do you see it?

On legacy, restraint, and what remains

In a deeply personal letter, Michele spoke of legacy not as something to be preserved intact, but as something that endures only when we resist the urge to rush in and replace what’s been lost. To accept absence, he suggests, is to allow a house to keep moving without erasing its past.

The show didn’t ask for applause. It asked for stillness — and earned a standing ovation all the same. In that pause, it became clear how much meaning is lost when fashion is rushed, and how much returns when we slow down.

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I stepped away a little longer than planned while travel and life took over. If you’ve been following along, thank you for sticking around. I’m back — and I hope you are too.

Dior — or perhaps Jonathan Anderson — has been dominating the conversation. Let’s take a closer look.

The reaction to Jonathan Anderson’s Dior has been loud, confused, and oddly emotional — which is usually a sign that something more foundational is being challenged.

The internet is tripping over itself to declare the collection either an unparalleled act of artistry or an insulting failure. And while this is where our collective attention tends to live - in the urgency to define and tag - it’s worth sitting with the confusion for a moment.

This isn’t really a debate about menswear, or even about whether the collection “worked.” It’s about what happens when a heritage house allows something new — and, in doing so, defies expectation.

It All Started With a Thrifted Dress

Though at first glance the show reads more like a JW Anderson collection than a Dior one, this was not a case of ignoring the archives. On the contrary, Anderson moved beyond Dior’s own history, tracing Christian Dior’s influences back to Paul Poiret — an early 20th-century couturier whom Dior deeply admired. Anderson has shared that a thrifted Poiret dress was a major inspiration for the collection. The opening tank tops, in particular, read as the clearest reference, appearing almost like a cut-down facsimile of a Poiret gown.

Poiret became a conceptual starting point — not only for silhouettes, but for his attitude toward dress as social signaling. His work fused references from the Middle East with neoclassicism and famously freed women from the corset, introducing loose, fluid silhouettes that prioritized movement. Looking at it side by side, the influence is undeniable.

This idea of looseness, both physical and social, echoes throughout the collection. Anderson reinterprets aristocracy as a character type: eccentric, nonchalant, rebellious. Punk references and Mk.gee’s influence enter here, shaping that character into something intentionally untethered from any single era — a subculture Anderson created specifically for this show.

When Jonathan Anderson talks about Dior, he doesn’t start with image. He starts with labor. He speaks about the couture atelier, where nothing is made by machine, and every detail passes through human hands. You see it in the hand-beaded 3D petals on the exaggerated puffers, in garments that appear effortless while resting on extreme levels of skill and time.

At its core, the collection asks what aristocracy means now — especially in an industry that depends on money while avoiding naming it. “What happens if you ignore the idea of money in aristocracy?” Anderson asks. A curious thing to leave out when designing clothes rooted in craftsmanship, eccentricity, and — inevitably — wealth.

What emerged is a vision of neo-aristocracy built on tension. Exaggerated proportions, deliberate mismatches, and inflated shapes disrupted otherwise classic tailoring.

“Fashion shows are about showing ideas.”
Jonathan Anderson

The collection landed in a cultural moment obsessed with reaction: the quicker you respond, the stronger the emotion, the more rewarded you are. So it’s no surprise that the show has been labeled everything from ragebait to an overreliance on Galliano-era provocation. I get it. It’s loud. There’s a lot — maybe too much — to take in at once. But if you sit with it a moment longer, it becomes clear that none of this was accidental or a mess.

Read Anderson’s interviews closely, and the intention sharpens. This wasn’t a collection designed to reassure. It was meant to pose a set of questions — about status, masculinity, and who luxury is actually for right now. Anderson has been clear that menswear, womenswear, and couture will operate as distinct expressions of the house; each show builds this new, multifaceted language.

Provocation alone doesn’t sustain attention, as we learned from Duran Lantink’s debut at Jean Paul Gaultier. Calling it ragebait only works if you ignore intent. This wasn’t designed to be scrolled past. It was designed to be looked at, argued over, and interpreted. In a luxury landscape that increasingly avoids risk in favor of reassurance, Dior Men FW26 accepted risk as part of the mandate. The conversation wasn’t a byproduct — it was the point, and, as with many things that defy expectations, the discomfort was part of the response.

Pushing Dior Forward

The Dior customer has never been especially experimental. Traditionally, he’s conservative, polished, and invested in continuity rather than disruption. That tension sits at the center of this collection: who is this Dior for?

“Ultimately, I am not Christian Dior, and I am not Dior the brand. I’m here to add a chapter to it.”

It’s a line that can be read as deeply respectful — or quietly defiant. What matters is what that chapter becomes: the foundation of a lasting vision, or a singular, transitional moment.

It’s not hard to imagine this collection unsettling the traditional Dior customer.

And yet, this wasn’t a blind leap. A creative risk of this scale is unlikely to have been taken without consideration or visibility at the highest levels of the house. Anderson is a seasoned merchandiser, and it’s worth remembering that what appears on the runway is not what ultimately arrives on the sales floor. So perhaps there’s no need to panic just yet. Whether this shift succeeds in expanding Dior’s buyer base remains to be seen.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts on this “new chapter” - yay or nay?

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Long black puffer.
Black or charcoal wool coat.
Black beanie.
Black boots.
A city-wide clone army of black coats and sensible boots, shuffling from subway to office to holiday errands.

At one point, a gust of wind almost lifted a woman straight off the sidewalk — a full Mary Poppins moment — and even she, mid-flight, looked like everyone else. Sensible, padded, sturdy. New York’s unofficial winter uniform.

And listen, I get it. I’m not here to tell you to buy a “better” coat or a more fashionable pair of boots. I’m not even going to talk about basics or denim. The best part of this entire letter is that you can wear your favorite lounge set underneath — peak nap-readiness — and still look like someone with a point of view.

Winter style, for me, similarly to my winter rituals, is about being cozy, in an intentional, and, where possible, even playful, kind of way.

When 90% of you is buried under layers, the remaining 10% becomes disproportionately influential. Your headgear, gloves, scarf, and shoes do more talking than your actual clothes. Adjust those elements just a little, and the whole look reads differently.

So let’s talk about a few easy ways to make winter layers feel like a real outfit.

A Pop of Color to lighten up the mood

There’s something about winter that makes people dress to match the sky. The darker the days, the darker the clothes. You can almost track daylight savings by the number of black coats that appear on a single subway car.

I love black outerwear as much as anyone, but when the mood dips — and December moods do dip — I find myself craving color. All we need is one saturated note somewhere in the frame: a deep red scarf, a plum headband, a green glove, a cherry-toned sock peeking between a loafer (bold move in this weather) and hem.

It’s less about “adding interest” and more about adding a warming element that doubles as a mood shifter. Win-win. Color tells your brain: sunlight still exists. Not all hope is lost.

And if you’re feeling truly playful, keep reading — I have thoughts on hedgehog bags.

The Accessory Hierarchy: Where Style Actually Lives in Winter

Summer dressing begins with the body; winter dressing starts with the shell. That’s why good accessories are essential if you don’t want to look dull or gloomy.

Gloves are the quickest fix. They make a coat look styled instead of… there.

Tights and socks do more work than we give them credit for. Sheer black, ribbed neutrals, a bold red knee-high — tiny choices that completely change the feel of a look.

We all know the usual headgear lineup: beanies, headbands, earmuffs. Cute. Reliable. A little uninspired.

Detachable hoods, though? Genuinely useful. They update a coat, they’re rainproof, and they give the whole look a sharper edge.

And no, I’m not doing a scarf roundup. Scarves are obvious, and they add bulk we don’t need. Instead, here are a few cleaner neck-warming upgrades that work without overwhelming your coat.

The Unexpected Details That Change Everything

A belt over a black wool coat is an instant upgrade. It creates a waist, a mood, a silhouette you didn’t know the coat had. Ten years old? Doesn’t matter. The belt does all the talking. Now picture this mustard belt-bag layered on top — that’s the styling moment.

And brooches — please bring back brooches. They’re the most elegant micro-expression of style: small enough to feel personal, but striking enough to be noticed. Pin one on the lapel of your coat, on a scarf, or even on the cuff of a sleeve. It sends a message: I’m doing winter better than you. I have a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. My home smells like hot cider made with A-list liquor and hand-squeezed organic apple juice from the Alps.

Bonus Corner: I shall save you from talking about the weather; now you can talk about your hedgehog

Because here’s the truth: winter flattens our playfulness. We go out as if on a survival mission, and we dress the part. Everything becomes functional, padded, heat-retaining, serious. Which I fully support, there’s nothing I dislike more than being cold. However, the seriousness can be turned down a notch. I love the unexpected silliness of an animal-shaped bag, something that feels like a wink in a season that can feel humorless.

A hedgehog bag, a squirrel bag (I wish — iykyk), an Onigiri bag — these are mood enhancers disguised as accessories. They don’t need to be practical; they just need to spark joy when the sun sets at 4:30 p.m. And they’ll help you avoid talking about the wind and temperature drop for the twenty-first time that day. So, you know… you’re welcome.

That’s it for today. Let me know which one of these you’d like to add to your wardrobe.

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Keep warm, stay joyful! <3

If you’ve been here a while, you know I have a soft spot for Matthieu Blazy. Last time we talked about Chanel, I said his superpower was humanity — the (rare) ability to design clothes that feel emotional without sacrificing wearability.

This week, Chanel brought Métiers d’Art to New York, and Blazy brought that same humanity underground. Métiers d’Art (translates to “arts and crafts”) is an annual event launched by the late Karl Lagerfeld in 2002 and exists to honor the specialist ateliers whose work defines the house.

The show took place in the old, deserted Bowery subway station and felt like a love letter to the artisans and to the city that never stops.

Blazy explained his choice perfectly: “We all take the Metro. It’s chaotic, it’s a mess… it erases social classes… it belongs to all of us.”

And that was the show — Chanel in the wild, not on a sanitized runway, but in the place where New Yorkers actually live their lives: running late, holding coffee, dodging teenagers with AirPods.

Models stepped off a train like passengers returning from some glamorous alternate reality. The columns, the fluorescent lighting, the payphone — all of it became part of the storytelling. It made couture feel democratic for a moment, which is hilarious if you know Chanel prices, but also strangely… moving?

This Métiers d’Art wasn’t Chanel pretending to understand New York; it actually felt like the city. Cacophony of style and energy — messy, nostalgic, full of characters from every decade. From a downtown girl in a half-zip and jeans (hi, Bhavitha Mandava) to the Coco-era suit and tweed jacket reworked for now.

Wearable storytelling (his words, not mine)

One of Blazy’s quotes from this collection stayed with me:
“I was interested in the artifice — to explode the silhouette and technique, but… when you decompose the silhouette you still have something quite wearable.”

This is the piece he’s taking for the win — proving you can have fantasy (embroidery, tweed wizardry, hours of handwork) in clothes that survive a full day in New York and still work for cocktails.

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The bags everyone screenshot

Let’s talk about the bags, because this collection gave us a zoo: the giraffe, the squirrel, the apple, and the coffee cup.

The giraffe references Madagascar — a creature lost in the New York subway system — which I find so charming. I appreciate that kind of humor much more than the obvious nods like the apple or the coffee cup (that’s not to say I wouldn’t die to get my hands on either).

The squirrel was the real surprise — influencers would not stop talking about it. Its tail is fur that climbs up the leather strap… This is a crazy collector’s piece. A true object of delight.

Chanel didn’t publish retail prices (and might not). But given the house’s recent price trajectory and the handcrafted nature of Métiers d’Art pieces, you’re easily looking at $10K–$15K if they ever hit boutiques at all.

Meanwhile, I’m over here quietly adding the skyscraper skirt to a wishlist I have no business maintaining. It’s entirely beaded. Ah, a girl can dream.

Legacy in motion: Chanel but make it cool again

What makes this show more than a spectacle is the way Blazy speaks to Gabrielle Chanel: “I wanted to almost take revenge for Gabrielle Chanel and look at fashion through cinematographic imagery… even when costumes depict reality, they’re always slightly exaggerated so they can be remembered.”

This idea, the pairing of exaggeration and wearability, feels central to how Blazy is shaping Chanel right now. I love how these two seemingly opposite qualities coexist so easily in his world. You either remember the ease of the jean and half-zip, or the extravaganza of the color and texture. Both leave an impression; they just land differently.

Haute Couture is next, and fashion people are already vibrating with anticipation. If Act One was emotion and Act Two is chaos, I can’t wait to see where Blazy takes the story next.

I read a mountain of gift guides while researching my own and a few “anti-gift guides” urging no shopping or full DIY. I’m not here to tell anyone how to live, but I couldn’t bring myself to publish a “go-shop” list. I also get tradition, and the quiet pressure of Chrismukah: not everyone can hand-make gifts on a deadline (certainly not me).

I don’t crave a massive spree; I do crave more coziness for the long, cold months ahead (hello from New York). Below is what I’m considering to make time at home feel softer. Think of these as small, sensory comforts that double as thoughtful gifts and make everything after 4:30 p.m. (the new midnight) a little warmer.

The things that make a season memorable aren’t what we buy; they’re what we sense. Wood smoke. Late-afternoon light. A song drifting from another room.

This isn’t a traditional gift guide. It’s a curation of feeling quiet, tactile ways to romanticize fall, and, if you’re gifting, a few pieces that carry that warmth forward.

Let’s jump in. Many of these are on sale right now; holiday timing is on our side.

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Atmosphere

For many of us (myself included), the early darkness shifts the mood and lowers our energy. As we lose natural light, the lighting we choose becomes essential: not a single central ceiling light (and definitely not fluorescent), but warm hues from a few different sources. A few good options:

• Portable Lamp in warm fall tones looks so cute, and will bring the right glow to whatever corner you choose.

• This small “soft-glow” lamp reads like switching on a candle. (Currently 20% off.)

• Candles = instant atmosphere. A few favorites: the oh-so-hyped (and actually worth it) Flamingo Estate candles. I love the jasmine now in a limited, personalized edition (great gift). Also super giftable: their 5-star fancy olive oil (still under $50).

• Layering = cozy. You know when you walk into a space and feel calm right away? Beyond dimmed lighting and quiet music, there’s usually texture: throw pillows, runners, double curtains, and always a soft throw. This mohair one is the blanket I’d buy again: truly warming, great colors, three sizes.
  Another lovely option at a lower price point: Anthro’s version.

My cozy musts

• This is so mom, but a robe is truly a necessity this time of year. Fun colors, 100% cotton, and another one I keep hearing about (and might finally get): the Parachute robe, which is supposed to dry you off in cloud-like softness.

• Warm socks are key, not too thick, and if they can elevate a loafer, that’s a win. These Cotton Cashmere Crew Socks are my current faves.

• A Jenni Kayne cardigan is another mom/homebody staple, IMO. I live in mine. It’s an investment, but for 100% cashmere that actually wears beautifully (I got mine two winters ago), it’s worth it. There’s currently 25% off site-wide.

• Aesop’s hand cream is a winter must, and this set makes a lovely little gift, nicely packaged and genuinely helpful.

• And the icon: L’Occitane’s nourishing shea butter hand cream, feels luxurious and actually works.

Rituals

My favorite things to do when I have the energy after a hectic day with my toddlers. These feel like mini spa moments. They fill my heart with joy, make my bathroom smell incredible, and keep me from feeling like a dehydrated houseplant by 8 p.m. All very giftable.

More skincare tips <3

Lighting a candle is step one. After that, it’s the little rituals:

• Dry brushing before a shower. I’ve tried several body brushes in the past and ended up scratching my sensitive skin. This is my dream brush, soft and smooth, with real exfoliating results.

• Body lotion that smells like you have your life together (aka: no scent). I love this one because it absorbs quickly and leaves my skin hydrated. For a little splurge: the Augustinus Bader Body Cream. It’s rich, nourishing, and I alternate between the two. When I want to go the extra mile (or when my skin truly needs it), I add oil to lock in moisture and call it a night. High-end staple, and I also love this French classic because French women do it best.

• The twice-a-week hair-wash routine that completely resets your mood. Mine includes Oribe Gold Lust shampoo and conditioner. There’s a beautiful gift set with the mini Nourishing Hair Oil (it smells phenomenal). And this weekly hair mask is also available in a fun gift set with a full-sized mask.

• My newest “me moment”: cuticle oil. I finally found one I’m loyal to, and it feels like the smallest luxury with the biggest payoff.

• A heated eye mask, tiny ritual, huge impact. If your eyes get dry or irritated, or you stare at a screen all day (so… everyone), this helps so much. Pro tip: it’s the perfect two minutes to meditate. Mine is simple, but there are techy ones that make you look ready for space travel.

A few gift ideas for kids

Because we can’t show up empty-handed for the little ones.

• A matching pajama set on a little one is always adorable. This classic poplin style is adorable and comes in four colors.

• I’m so excited to finally try the Yoto player this year. I’ve heard such great things, and I’m really counting on it to keep my toddler entertained.

• Not just for the holidays, this personalized vehicle book is fantastic. My 3.5-year-old is obsessed. There’s a list of all the “things that go” at the end, and we turn it into a little memory game!

If you enjoyed this guide, tap the ❤ and share it with someone who loves cozy season.

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That’s a wrap. Hope you found this helpful, and happy holidays.

Here’s a quick roundup for today:

• The daily makeup staples (aka the “I need to put my face on in under 7 minutes” lineup)

• Some brushes I’ve heard so much about that I finally decided to purchase and test for myself

• A few sets - because it’s not a Sephora sale without them

→ Skincare besties - this mini-guide focuses on makeup, but my 7-minute skincare routine (which I’m still happy with) is here.

This mini guide is for the one who doesn’t wear a lot of makeup for whatever reason (no time, no skill, no will) but still wants reliable products that actually work in her warrior kit - mm, I mean makeup kit. You won’t find multiple options that send you into instant decision fatigue — just my ride-or-dies, if you will.

You also won’t find products that are overly sensitive, fussy, or require real know-how (hands can serve as brushes too!).

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The daily makeup staples

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Dr. Jart+ Premium BB Tinted Moisturizer with Niacinamide and SPF 40 - Niacinamide-infused BB cream that hydrates, conceals, and protects with SPF 40. It gives a very natural-looking finish, and I love that it has that built-in SPF 40 — perfect for the days I skip sunscreen and the weather decides to change drastically. I’ve repurchased it time and again, and it’s so much less intimidating than blending foundation in the morning chaos. I just apply it with my fingers. I’m pretty fair and use shade Fair – Light.

Armani Beauty Luminous Silk Hydrating Face and Under-Eye Concealer - Medium coverage, lightweight, easy to blend, and it doesn’t crease (win!). It feels light under the eyes and covers small blemishes too. Allure 2025 Best of Beauty Award winner. I use shade 4.75 – light with pink undertone.

Westman Atelier Face Trace Cream Contour Stick — What I love about this one is that it’s truly fail-proof. You cannot mess it up. It blends so seamlessly, and the shade is so natural and cool-toned that you’ll never look muddy. It’s creamy, adds just the right amount of definition, and leaves a soft, natural finish. Love. I use Biscuit – cool beige coffee.

Optional (when I have a few extra minutes, or it’s summer and bronzer just looks good):

Saie Sun Melt Natural Cream Bronzer - Like contour, bronzer has to be foolproof for me. I don’t have time to reapply my skin tint if a muddy disaster hits! This cream-balm bronzer blends beautifully, feels lightweight, and gives a natural, all-over sun-kissed look. I use Light Bronze.

Armani Beauty Eye Tint Long-Lasting Liquid Eyeshadow - Truly the easiest eyeshadow ever. I swipe it on my lids, blend the edges with my fingers, and look instantly more awake. My go-to is 18M Beige for a quick neutral look.

Speaking of looking awak, if you’re using an eyelash curler (or ready to start), it has to be Shiseido. You can’t convince me otherwise.

Brows: Benefit Cosmetics Precisely, My Brow Pencil + Benefit 24-HR Brow Setter Clear Gel . Honestly, I can skip almost everything else, but leaving the house without brows makes me feel naked. A few quick strokes and I’m ready for the day. Good brows define the whole face IMO.

Blushes: My two favorites — I alternate depending on mood:

• PATRICK TA Major Headlines Double-Take Crème & Powder Blush Duo in She’s That Girl (a little morning affirmation).

• Westman Atelier Baby Cheeks Lip + Cheek Cream Blush Stick in Petal (dusty nude rose). Comes in mini size too! I use it for both cheeks and lips; it blends easily and gives that healthy flush of color.

Lips: you cannot have too many lippies. A few favorites: OLEHENRIKSEN Pout Preserve, Tower 28 Beauty lip oil, DIOR Plumping Gloss, and Armani Beauty Lip Gloss with Squalane

On freezing New York days when my lips just need hydration, I line lightly (this or this — both classics), blur with a finger, and top with balm.

Brushes

One of the strengths of this routine is that if you don’t like brushes, you don’t actually need to use them! The only exception is contour or bronzer, and this is my go-to for that step:

Saie The Big Buffing Brush — I reach for it every time I need to buff out contour or bronzer. It’s dense yet soft and gives a beautifully seamless finish.

In my cart:

• MAKEUP BY MARIO F4 Dual-Ended Foundation & Face Brush – rave reviews and ideal for travel.

• Still hunting for the perfect concealer brush. My finalists: Hourglass and HAUS LABS BY LADY GAGA — I decided to try the Lady Gaga one.

With the holidays just around the corner, here are a few sets to consider:

• Just purchased the Tatcha Dewy Skin & Plump Lips Set — An excellent deal (not even on a “girl math” level, like for real). You basically pay for one product and get the other two for free. I love the Tatcha moisturizer — it’s rich, feels luxurious, and absorbs quickly.

• Merit The Flush Balm Trio - This is such a cute gift set. Merit is known for its easy-to-apply blushes, and I love the limited-edition shade they’ve included here, which looks like a beautiful terracotta.

• Ole Henrikson Pout Preserve Mini Set - You can’t go wrong with a mini trio of the bestselling Pout Preserve. I might grab it for myself and stash one in every bag.

• Necessaire Body Wash Discovery Collection - My favorite body wash, hands down. Their scents are just so good! This mini set is great for travel or sampling them all.

• Yves Saint Laurent YSL Iconic Pink Make Me Blush & Loveshine Lip Oil Stick Set - Chic, gift-ready, and perfect for the makeup lover in your life.

That’s it for today, hope this was helpful!

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This season, three collaborations caught my attention: JW Anderson × Uniqlo, Anna Sui × Old Navy, and Glenn Martens × H&M.

Beyond the hype, they reveal something more profound about where fashion is headed: luxury design is no longer locked behind glass.

Fashion collaborations aren’t just a “nice to have” this season - they’ve become a strategic hinge for both luxury designers and high-street brands. They’re mutually beneficial, offering a lower entry point for consumers while giving designers cultural reach. That accessibility makes them feel special, even valuable. For legacy labels, a collab like Anna Sui × Old Navy or Glenn Martens × H&M offers cultural relevance in markets where exclusivity alone no longer drives spending. People are becoming more aware—and wary—of the economic environment, and brands understand that most of their audience can’t afford to buy designer items at full price.

These partnerships create hype through minute sell-outs, viral drops, and instant social-media buzz — turning fashion collaborations into marketing engines in an era where attention is scarce. It’s an excellent way for designers to reach a younger audience who may not be familiar with their work.

For the consumer, this moment matters because it signals that the old rules of luxury are shifting. It’s no longer beyond our reach; in fact, it’s as attainable as coffee and a croissant for a Glenn Martens tank from H&M.

We’ve grown comfortable seeing high-design ideas in accessible places, yet we still crave authenticity, story, and craft. These collaborations tap into a kind of value fatigue—a collective exhaustion with things that mean nothing. When even a $74 dress carries a designer’s name, it feels like meaning in a world of disposability. It’s a slight push toward sustainability in the wasteful realm of fast fashion, suggesting that intention, not price, is what gives clothes their value.

It’s easy to be cynical, to see these collaborations as creativity diluted for profit. But there’s another way to look at it. If more people are learning to recognize proportion, intention, and design through something as simple as a $39 piece, maybe that’s progress in itself. Perhaps what looks like dilution from one angle is actually design literacy from another.

In the end, creativity isn’t measured only by rarity — it’s measured by impact. If a collection stirs emotion, triggers memory, or invites ownership of taste — then maybe what looks like dilution is actually democratization.

My Take

I love what this moment represents. Gen Z (and the ones after them) who shop at Old Navy are getting (what might be) a first encounter with a ’90s icon like Anna Sui. The ’90s were the golden age of individuality, when fashion featured supermodels whose first names alone defined an era: Christy, Naomi, and Linda. Seeing a new generation rediscover that kind of romantic rebellion, even through a capsule rack, feels almost sentimental.

It’s nice that the young “corporate girlie” can reach for her crisp Uniqlo button-down and spot the discreet JW Anderson logo — the designer now leading Dior. And that someone else can walk into H&M tomorrow and try on a Glenn Martens trench (if they’re lucky - it’s already sold out online) for less than a dinner in the West Village.

However, while I celebrate the exposure and accessibility these collaborations offer, I still believe in the thrill of the original. The kind of piece you find second-hand or archived, that carries history, not just hype. It’s not about price or status; it’s about connection - owning something conceived with craft and intention, that outlived the trend cycle it was born into.

The urgency to create “what wasn’t out there,” as Anna Sui once said, rather than to replicate what will meet mass-market taste at a profit point, is what makes fashion meaningful. The collaboration model gives us entry points, but the originals remind us what depth feels like. Both can coexist — the fast and the lasting, the accessible and the aspirational — yet the pieces born of intention will always carry more weight.

Maybe the real evolution of luxury isn’t just its democratization, it’s our growing discernment. We can appreciate an Old Navy × Anna Sui dress for its joyful nostalgia, while still craving the craftsmanship of the original. It’s lovely to see the “fur”-cuffed leather coat made more approachable. Still, there’s something about seeing it multiplied by the dozen under harsh fluorescent lights, beneath a glossy Collab poster, that makes it feel as uninviting as it is attainable.

Kim Kardashian wore Maison Margiela to a gala — a house whose masked models once symbolized anonymity, shifting attention from the body to the garment. It was meant to erase identity so the craft could speak. Kim, of course, did the opposite. When asked why she chose the look, she said it felt “Skimsy.” A moment that perfectly captures how context defines taste: where you are, when you are, and who you are. Maison Margiela’s mask was never meant for someone who has built a career on visibility.

Then came the news that Grace Wales Bonner will lead men’s ready-to-wear at Hermès - a rare moment of optimism in luxury fashion. Her work has always carried memory: Jamaican heritage, Afro-Atlantic references, a reverence for craft and cultural continuity. It’s a kind of taste rooted in personal heritage, history, and lived experience - not trend.

And then GQ released its chaotic “50 Most Stylish People Alive” list, where Greta Lee, widely considered a fashion icon, somehow shares digital space with Adam Sandler. I bet Adam Sandler is laughing at this as much as I do.

Between the absurd and the inspiring, it made me wonder what taste even means anymore - and how our values in fashion keep getting redefined.

“Fashion done right”

We talk a lot about “fashion icons” - Greta Lee, Zoë Kravitz, Ayo Edebiri - as if they’ve uncovered a secret formula. The internet is overflowing with “outfit formulas” and endless guides on “how to dress like…” They promise that all you need to do is adopt a “minimalist, edgy style” to become your idol - when really, what you need to embrace is your own inner voice.

The truth is, their style can’t be replicated because what makes it work isn’t the clothes; it’s the coherence. It’s the way their choices (read: their stylists’ choices, but we’ll touch on that another time) align with who they are.

That’s the difference between simply dressing well and being truly well-dressed — one is imitation, the other is alignment.

As the Saying Goes, You Can’t Buy Taste

But you can learn it.

We live in a world where everything is one click away: food, clothes, even validation.
Taste, however, can’t be delivered - it takes effort.

It asks you to look inward, to ignore noise, to sit with your preferences long enough for them to mature into conviction. In other words, taste is work. It requires curiosity, self-awareness, and discernment — all the quiet, unglamorous things that don’t show up on Instagram. This is why it’s so tempting to just buy whatever Zoë Kravitz is wearing. It demands nothing of us but a credit card and Wi-Fi.

Copying a look can only take you so far, as it’s lacking context and depth. That’s why maturing your taste is valuable: taste reflects an ongoing relationship between knowledge and intuition, exposure and restraint.

When executed well, taste serves as great branding. It guides you through an invisible blend of choices that makes one thing feel better than another - and that’s why taste, in essence, becomes judgment: the rarest form of intelligence left to us. An asset, uniquely human, to lead us through the next chapter.

The Quiet Power of Discernment

In the era of AI, many argue that intelligence is being commoditized.

AI is becoming widely available and inexpensive, much like other utilities we’ve come to take for granted. It’s argued then, that judgment is now our central ability to discern what feels right, what fits, and what endures. It’s said to become our most valuable skill.

I’d also add something harder to define: emotion - or more precisely, feeling. We choose to dress a certain way because of how it makes us feel. Emotion remains something AI can’t replicate. The way an outfit feels is the very reason you want to copy it in the first place - the effortless Zoë Kravitz, the playful “it girl” Ayo Edebiri, the elegant Greta Lee.

When AI can generate endless variations, taste will guide you to the one that feels true. It’s the filter through which you decide what to prioritize, what you deem worthy. It’s not about being right; it’s about knowing what feels right, what fits your context, values, and vision.

Nothing worth having comes easy

True taste is learned, not innate. It’s emotional intelligence made visible - a quiet alignment between intuition and self-knowledge.
Developing it requires vulnerability: trusting your inner compass combined with the quiet confidence of saying - I don’t care about the trend - this suits me. It feels like me.

Taste must be cultivated: it’s turning inward, developing judgment, and making connections between self and context. The goal is not to collect “the right things” but to create meaning. The best-dressed aren’t trend followers or imitators — they’re editors of themselves.

Who knows — if you stay committed to the process, you might just become the cool person who gets it.

When I first saw Kim’s new launch, my mind went straight to who in their right mind would wear that? And what kind of marketing gimmick is this?

I leaned into curiosity and did a little research. In a sea of similar (and hilarious) reactions echoing my own, one unexpected theme surfaced: female empowerment. It felt like a stretch to go from faux full bush to feminist statement. Yet, the conversation made me pause. Watching the creative director musical chairs at Paris Fashion Week drove the point home. We desperately need more of that — female empowerment, women at the top, and (much) more women included in what we still call women’s wear. I wrote about that whirlwind of new appointments and what it means for fashion’s next chapter here.

For context, recently, fifteen creative directors rotated between major Paris houses. Only two were women: Louise Trotter stepped in at Bottega Veneta following Matthieu Blazy’s move to Chanel. Rachel Scott took over at Proenza Schouler, and if we are generous, we can count one more: Maria Grazia Chiuri, newly named Chief Creative Officer at Fendi, returning to the house where she began her career back in 1989.

That makes three. Three women shaping the most visible stage in fashion - an industry inspired by women, made for women, yet still largely designed and managed by men.

Yes, high fashion was born in male-led ateliers of the early twentieth century. Still, after nearly a century of supposed progress since women entered the workforce, the balance hasn’t shifted much. This legacy of male‑run heritage brands remains a barrier today - whether it’s tradition, politics, or the myth of the male genius designer, the numbers speak for themselves.

Who said the carpet has to match the drapes?

This isn’t the first time Kim K has broken the internet - and probably won’t be the last. Asking whether this is a branding spectacle or who would buy it misses the point. The real question is where and when it lands. Hair has become a prominent theme in fashion — less old‑money fur, more primal and intentionally raw. Many of the designers shaping this trend are women, but Kim’s version naturally draws more controversy. She’s made a career of turning the “taboo” into commerce.

If you take a closer look, Kim’s launch hits a nerve because it exposes (literally and figuratively) what fashion has long tried to smooth away. The product may be absurd, yet the gesture — reclaiming what’s been censored — is not. After decades of being told to wax, edit, and filter, it becomes a power play: a woman choosing for herself what kind of “visibility” she will offer.

Surprisingly, it is not new. The idea of a merkin - a pubic wig - dates back to the 15th century, when women wore them to cover signs of disease or to maintain modesty after shaving for hygiene. Centuries later, they appeared in theater and film to skirt censorship laws that forbade visible nudity. What began as concealment eventually moved on stage, and now apparently is flying off the virtual shelves — the hairy micro-thongs are sold out (!!)

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We might give this launch the benefit of the doubt, though the harsher view is that it’s simply a marketing stunt - designed for profit rather than progress. When it lacks substance, social context, or deeper intent, it becomes just another product sold to change the female body - this time by “adding” something women already have.

Institutional visibility = power?

Fashion is all about being seen — who gets noticed, wearing what, and by whom. Still, the people in charge of that visibility haven’t changed much: men continue to lead most major luxury houses. Is that out of respect for tradition, or just another way of keeping women out?

Before we discuss social media influence, it’s worth asking what kind of visibility matters more: the prestige of the runway or the reach of the feed, which rewrites culture in real time.

Nowadays, visibility is not about being recognized by fashion institutions; it is about reach, influence, and control over the narrative. Skims has nearly seven million followers on Instagram — about the same as Loewe, one of the oldest and most influential heritage brands in the world. That parity says everything. A reality star’s shapewear line and a 178-year-old Spanish fashion house now have equal global attention. It is debatable who has a stronger fan following, and following is the new currency and ultimate power.

Kim’s empire might not carry the artistic gravitas of Chanel or Dior, yet it represents a new order of influence: one that does not ask for inclusion because it no longer needs the invitation.

The Measure of Success

As we established, only two of the fifteen creative directors in Paris are women. Maybe that imbalance explains the broader hair trend, and why the most provocative gesture about female power this season did not come from a runway — it came from Kim Kardashian.

Skims currently surpasses Chanel in global search interest - proof that Kim’s empire has won in reach and visibility. Still, it highlights a tension in fashion today: you can win outside the heritage system, but the prize might look different.

— Would you rather be remembered for creating an heirloom-worthy Chanel bag, or for the faux-fur bush that broke the internet?

You don’t consider yourself a fashion person. You’re following zero influencers, and you mostly shop mid-market brands. You probably think Paris Fashion Week has absolutely nothing to do with you or your life, à la Andy (in The Devil Wears Prada).

And yet, just like Andy, you’re wrong. Here’s why you should still care about what happened this month in Paris, even if it’s solely to not give the impression you live under a rock.

What happens at Paris Fashion Week doesn’t just live on runways, magazines and luxury stores. It quietly decides what our stores, ads, and even moods will look like for the next year. It trickles down in vibe, aesthetics, and what you’ll see on the racks in Zara.

When the shows become soft, sensual, or reflective, that feeling shows up in campaigns, store windows, and suddenly, even a Target ad feels more muted, poetic, or minimalist.

Creative director musical chairs!

This Fashion Week presented Spring-Summer 2026, but it mostly introduced change - and plenty of it, as 15 major creative directors moved between houses, reshuffling the scene.

There’s a lot at stake from cultural, commercial, and legacy standpoints, but we will not cover that right now.

Each new designer subtly (or boldly - who said Jean Paul Gaultier?) rewrites fashion’s vocabulary, whether through proportions, textures, or colors. Within a few months, the mid-market translates it.

More than trends, it’s cultural language. And so whether you shop Chanel or H&M (or anything - and there’s a lot - in between), this wave of designer reshuffling changes what we all want to wear.

Luxury brands make the cultural weather.

Mid-market brands sell the forecasted season.

Here’s what it all adds up to: when Paris changes hands, it changes everything downstream - not just what people buy, but what they believe looks good right now. And that’s a big deal, isn’t it?

Let’s take a look at how that chaos actually played out on the runway:

I’m curious to see how this energy will translate onto the commercial floor (curious and concerned).

It was hard to ignore one of the most talked-about debuts (as we’ve established, there were quite a few) - Duran Lantink’s first collection for Jean Paul Gaultier.

However, it was equally funny to watch how quickly the buzz around this show evaporated. For a few hours, it was everywhere - provocative (to some) and impossible to ignore. But by the next morning, it was gone. Surprised at first, I realized that makes sense, in today’s oversaturated world, a gimmicky show cannot and will not leave a lasting impression.

What will? Emotion.

Why did the influencers cry?

It sounds a bit much, doesn’t it? To be moved so much by a runway show, to shed a tear? It sounded like too much to me. But then I watched it. And I felt it.

Your Comfort, Your Armor

The artistry and technique Matthieu Blazy brings to every house (previously at Bottega Veneta) — his way with silhouettes, his play with materials — were all there. In a way, nothing less could be expected of him; however, it’s no easy task to reimagine the tweed jacket, the two-tone shoes, the Chanel handbag.

But more than that, it was about redefining what it means to be a modern woman. What Blazy did wasn’t about the gorgeous gowns, jewelry, and coveted bags; it was really about the feel. To me, it read: grounded, sensual, real.

Blazy told The Business of Fashion, “the whole company of Chanel is based on a love story,” and I believe we all felt that love in the looks that could take a woman from errands to cocktails, chic in her cropped, logo-free men’s jacket. These are clothes built for comfort and for armor: easy to wear, yet powerful enough to shield a woman from the world. She’s dressed for it — and ready for it.

The show notes themselves frame this debut beautifully: “An imaginary conversation with Gabrielle Chanel.” It’s a deliberate return to the woman behind the name — not the brand, the bag, or the perfume, but Gabrielle herself. By calling her by her full name, Blazy brings her spirit back into focus - the creative, complex woman who started it all.

Another thoughtful nuance can be found in the signature: “Matthieu Blazy for Chanel,” not “Chanel by Matthieu Blazy”. There’s a subtle statement of respect: a designer lending his vision to a legacy, not claiming it as his own. It’s an intentional humility that stands in stark contrast to Duran Lantink’s unapologetic “I’m not entering the archive.” Blazy approached heritage as dialogue, connection. Lantink treated it as a constraint.

If I had to sum up his vision in one word, it would be seen — and isn’t that what we crave most? Maybe that’s what explains the tears: joy from the woman who can actually live in these clothes, and emotion from the fashion lover who felt understood - who recognized herself in his vision of modern femininity.

Blazy’s first act left the entire fashion community buzzing with a shared sense of excitement and renewal. I can’t wait to see where Act Two takes us.