Sundays are for inspiration, v. 6
Ophelia, Ophelia-on-a-motorcycle hair, Anne Boleyn's pearls, London Fashion Week, and more.
Coucou! I have been feeling so inspired as of late (yet very busy and scatterbrained, which is why I haven’t been able to collect my thoughts and share one of these in a minute). Here’s everything that has captivated my attention over the past however-many weeks.
The hair at Prada AW25 (by Guido Palau) gave me life. I’ve shared many times how much I love hair that appears undone, even borderline unkempt. It was as though Ophelia got on a motorcycle. Imperfection as beauty makes me really happy.
Speaking of Ophelia, I went to visit her again last week at the Tate Britain. There she was, suspended in time (and, well, water), and while she hasn’t changed since I last saw her in June 2023, I always feel moved by her presence.
Although Gucci hasn’t hit for me since Alessandro’s departure, this collection, designed by the talented studio team (and styled by the incredibly talented Suzanne Koller), did feel like a subtle nod to his influence (mixed with that of Tom Ford’s). I especially loved look 10, which seemed to take a page from The Red Shoes, one of my favorite old films.
Although it’s been 488 years since Anne Boleyn’s execution, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. I came face to face with her portrait at the National Portrait Gallery in London, a must see if you’re in town. The Tudors exhibit is exceptional, even if seeing Henry VIII’s portrait made me want to hurl a box of chocolates at him, like Elle Woods after she broke things off with Warner Huntington III. Anyways, enough about that schmuck. Anne’s portrait, and particularly her pearl necklace, were so captivating to see up close. Really beautiful. And now I want a similar necklace!
This look by Complice F/W 1993 has been on my mind a lot recently. I love the feeling of being wrapped up like this in a shawl or a cape–it’s kind of like giving oneself a day-long hug.
Conversations between Marina Abamović and Hugo Huerta Marin:
While in London, I stayed at Hazlitt’s, a 308-year-old Georgian townhouse turned hotel. I’ve wanted to stay there for years and was not left at all disappointed by its toile-lined armoires, clawfoot tubs, working fireplaces, gin honesty bar, and dozens of probably-haunted oil paintings.
This Bienen-Davis handbag c. 1952. I absolutely cannot get enough vintage box bags, and this accordion shape is so special.
I had dinner last week at The Twenty Two (in New York) and reveled in its interior spaces. I’ve been feeling really inspired by French tapestries lately (and I can’t deny how much I love the little tassels on the wall sconces).
Antique Edwardian lace gloves. Have I talked about these before? Probably. I don’t know what it is about them–they’re so delicate and feminine and add a special little touch, and I love the way they cradle my fingers like a Chinese finger trap.
Jil Sander’s AW25 collection, which showed in Milan this week, left me feeling very seen. I often feel like Jil does not receive the praise she deserves and cannot ever fathom why. But this collection, in particular, felt special and a bit adventurous for her. It has her signature structure and clean lines, but the tinsel and feather details were really fun, and gave me crow-witch businesswoman, a genre to which I subscribe and one that I just came up with in this very moment (but which feels so right). Perhaps it’s made for the minimalist who finally let her hair down.
This 1943 advertisement for Harry Winston and this 1963 engagement ring ad for Tiffany & Co. I am slightly arachnophobic, but I love the dark energy present in both of these.
And last, but most certainly not least, the Simone Rocha AW25 show, which I was so lucky to be invited to, in London. In my opinion, it’s one of her strongest collections yet, marrying the delicacy of 1940s boudoir energy and the roughness of structured, masculine leather. I wrote on Instagram that, in summation, it was as though Rita Hayworth got up from her chaise lounge wearing a silk nightgown and a fur stole to go outside for a smoke and threw on her boyfriend’s leather jacket. It was perfect in so many ways.
And while we’re on the topic of London Fashion Week…London Fashion Week. It was my first time, after years of wanting to go. I’ve long said to anyone who will listen that London deserves its flowers, as far as innovation and creativity go. And now after having experienced it firsthand, I stand by that statement. There is so much unbridled individuality and creativity in the UK, and it was really beautiful to witness up close. By fashion week standards, it’s much less events-focused than New York, or even Paris. I found that quite refreshing, because it did feel like everyone who went did so for the purpose of the collections, and not necessarily to be seen, if that makes sense. (Even if part of my job is “being seen,” I have a complicated relationship with that aspect of it.) Anyways, for London being the forgotten child of the fashion calendar, I’m so thankful I got to visit her (as a middle child myself), and I will be back.
I think that’s it for this week :) I’m heading to Paris on Tuesday for over a week, and will surely collect a lot of inspiration while I’m there! X