Kate Barton, a Gen Z’er to her core, knows exactly how her generation scrolls, clicks, and buys. Instead of a traditional runway show, she tapped her crew—including Winnie Harlow, Kysre Gondrezick, and Dee Ocleppo Hilfiger—to model her Fall 2025 collection straight to Instagram. “This season was all about showing real women and showing it through social media,” Barton explained. No bells, no whistles—just scroll-stopping looks.
Travel has always been fashion’s most seductive accomplice—the great enabler of reinvention, the ultimate aesthetic reset button. This season, Alejandra Alonso Rojas found herself spellbound in Japan. A family trip to Tokyo, Kyoto, Nara, and Osaka turned into something deeper than sightseeing; it became a study in precision, a meditation on craftsmanship. “I was just so struck by how well everyone dresses,” she said, still in awe.
At New York Fashion Week Fall 2025, Tory Burch unveiled a collection that reimagined American sportswear with inventive twists. Held at the Museum of Modern Art, the show featured models descending a grand staircase to an eerie techno soundtrack, setting a dramatic tone.
Zankov’s approach to design remains steadfastly his own—no moodboard theatrics, no blatant references, just pure, distilled craftsmanship. His Fall 2025 collection was yet another masterclass in color, texture, and technique, a signature triptych that continues to define his brand. There were whispers of Warhol’s Factory, but only in the most elusive, ephemeral way—quarter-sized paillettes on sweaters and skirts, shimmering beneath plush coats, conjuring an Edie Sedgwick night out at Paraphernalia before vanishing into something entirely Zankov’s.
Johnson Hartig’s fall collection came full circle—literally—when he unearthed watercolor sketches he had stashed away two decades ago, originally inspired by Sonia Delaunay. In a moment of cosmic coincidence, Delaunay is currently enjoying renewed attention, with exhibitions at Bard and the Guggenheim—though Hartig only realized the connection after committing to the theme. His vibrant, expressionist prints adorned jackets trimmed with candy-colored marabou, glittering crystal embellishments, and a knockout pair of Larroudé boots. The designs even translated into grayscale knit separates, proving that Libertine’s signature maximalism can take on many forms.
New York Fashion Week Fall 2025 kicked off with bold statements and sharp contrasts. Brandon Maxwell redefined American sportswear with sleek tailoring and effortless elegance. Collina Strada turned rebellion into fashion, blending florals, camouflage, and exaggerated movement. Khaite balanced cinematic drama with everyday wearability, delivering sharp silhouettes and strong tailoring. Ulla Johnson elevated her earthy aesthetic with crystal embellishments and electroplated floral accessories. Christopher Cowan embraced the avant-garde, turning chewed gum and high heels into statement pieces. Monse stayed true to its deconstructed, asymmetrical edge. Three days in, NYFW is proving that fashion’s future is as rebellious as it is refined.
Oh, fashion. This world where trends change faster than you can blink, where one minute it’s oversized everything, and the next it’s “wait, never mind, we’re back to sleek and tailored.” And in this whirlwind? There are a few rare souls who somehow manage to capture something deeper—something timeless.
Autumn/Winter. That time of year when dressing becomes less about "looking cute" and more about surviving—but, you know, with some semblance of dignity. Layering, let’s be real, is an art. Not just any art, but one where you’re juggling warmth, style, and that intense inner monologue that screams, "Please don’t look like a marshmallow!" So here we go: a crash course in how to layer for winter without losing your sense of self under a mountain of wool and polyester.
Ah, the white shirt—so deceptively simple, yet a mainstay of wardrobes from Milan to Tokyo, a garment that claims purity but is as laden with history and artifice as any Balenciaga runway show. It’s the great equalizer of fashion, effortlessly transitioning from the pressed perfection of Brooks Brothers to the disheveled charm of a Comme des Garçons deconstruction, all the while maintaining that aloof stance of something both crucial and utterly indifferent to the whims of trends. One might think of it as the Big Mac of garments—ubiquitous, reliable, but with the potential for gourmet refinement (even if, sometimes, it's best enjoyed as is, ketchup dripping, no curation necessary).
Now *that* was a spectacle. We had naive innocence, angsty rebellion, villains, mermaids, princesses, lightning bolts, fireworks, rats, and even Kylie Jenner. For the brave, the afterparty included a chance to ride Hyperspace Mountain (which was *epic*). As I reluctantly left Disneyland Paris at the stroke of midnight, the techno beats still reverberated through the Magic Kingdom. Fashion Month always feels like stepping into an alternate reality, but this was a whole new level of surreal.
