In Paris, All Eyes on Jonathan Anderson's Dior Debut
To decode Jonathan's new Dior, today we have the most incisive and insightful take from BoF's inimitable editor-at-large Tim Blanks. On Thursday, when I asked Tim about his preview with Jonathan earlier this week, he whispered three key words into my ear: '18th century grunge.'
My mind tried to conjure up what that might look like, but it wasn't until the show at Les Invalides on Friday afternoon at 2:30pm that it all came into focus. Tim and I were seated across from a phalanx of designers — Stefano Pilati, Glenn Martens, Simon Porte Jacquemus, Donatella Versace, Silvia Venturini Fendi, Pierpaolo Piccioli, Chemena Kamali, Chitose Abe, Nicolas de Felice and Christian Louboutin — who came to support and, no doubt, to carefully scrutinise Jonathan's debut. Where Jonathan goes, many others will surely follow.
'He's been cast as LVMH's saviour,' writes Tim in his review. 'The first designer to be given full control of every aspect of the Dior business — women's, men's, haute couture — to pull it back from a brink that naysayers gleefully picture it perched on.'
So can Jonathan pull it off? Read Tim's full review here: 'Jonathan Anderson's Grunge Aristocracy at Dior'
Plus, this week on The BoF Podcast, tune in to hear from Yasmin Sewell on her journey from fashion into beauty, with her superpower: using intuition to guide her choices in business — and life.
Have a great weekend,
Imran Amed, Founder and Editor in Chief Below are my top picks from our analysis on fashion, luxury and beauty this week:
1. Jonathan Anderson's Grunge Aristocracy at Dior. Colliding artistry with calculated artlessness, the designer's debut offered up a great appetiser for a more complex meal to come, writes Tim Blanks. (Getty Images)
2. What the Israel-Iran Conflict Could Mean for Fashion. While a ceasefire is in place, shipping, supply chains and consumer sentiment remain threatened as tensions in the Middle East persist. (Getty Images)
3. Why Jewellery Feels Like a Better Deal Than a Handbag. Jewellery brands have raised prices less than fashion labels, and now benefit from a stronger sense of lasting value. (Cartier, Louis Vuitton)
4. Exclusive: Skims' Plan for Global Domination. Kim Kardashian's shapewear brand is preparing to enter many new markets in the US and, increasingly, globally. CEO Jens Grede spoke with The Business of Fashion about his vision to create 'the Apple store of apparel.' (Rafael de Cárdenas, Ltd)
5. Can Korean Fashion Be as Big as K-Beauty, or K-Pop? K-fashion made significant inroads in becoming a part of a global fashion conversation in 2025, with brands like Post Archive Faction and Gentle Monster grabbing attention. But scaling the category to become as big as other cultural exports remains challenging. (BoF Team /BoF Team) This Weekend on The BoF Podcast
As a fashion buyer and creative force at retail institutions like Browns and Liberty, Yasmin Sewell has long been tuned into aesthetics and the power of intuition. But it was during a moment of personal reset, that her intuition propelled her from fashion into an entirely new world: the business of beauty.
Founded in 2021, her fragrance brand Vyrao blends traditional perfumery with spiritual practices like Reiki, kinesiology, and neuroscience.
'When I was in fashion, what made me successful was tapping into my intuition and tapping into energy, which is everything I've created now. I was born quite psychic; I've always been able to connect with many things, and I used that ability to discover the designers at Browns,' Sewell shared. 'That feeling is what I've lived by my whole life. It's what's led me to where I am now. And actually, what I believe I've done is bottled that into fragrance.'
At The Business of Beauty Global Forum 2025, I sat down with Yasmin to discuss why she built a business rooted in energy, how she learned to manufacture fragrance from scratch, and why intuition is an underrated superpower in business.
To receive this email in your inbox each Saturday, sign up to The Daily Digest newsletter for agenda-setting intelligence, analysis and advice that you won't find anywhere else.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Los Angeles Times
24 minutes ago
- Los Angeles Times
New Jeff Buckley doc unearths the late rock star's unsung Latino roots
Mamá … you got some f—ing cojones, baby. These were some of the last words that legendary singer-songwriter Jeff Buckley left for his mother on an answering machine — not long before he tragically drowned in a river in Memphis, Tenn., in the spring of 1997. Just three years earlier, Buckley, a staple of New York's downtown coffeehouse scene, had released his debut album, 'Grace' — a collection of eclectic guitar confessionals and cover songs, propelled by the androgyne elasticity of his four-octave vocal range. The orchestral rock elegance of 'Grace' drew a stark contrast from the grunge fare that conquered the airwaves in the early '90s. It would also be the only full-length album he released while alive. Helmed by Academy Award-nominated director Amy Berg, the new documentary 'It's Never Over, Jeff Buckley' recalls the story of Buckley's life and death, primarily and most intimately by the women who loved him most: his former partners, artists Rebecca Moore and Joan Wassen; and of course, his mother, Mary Guibert. Buckley was born on Nov. 17, 1966, to Guibert and her high school sweetheart, who became the beloved antiwar folk singer Tim Buckley. Yet before the release of 'It's Never Over,' Buckley's Latino heritage had long been eclipsed in the media by that of his famous, yet estranged father. 'There's so much emphasis on the Buckley side of things,' says Guibert, who calls me from her home in Northern California. 'But [Tim was] just somebody flying through the night.' Guibert and her family immigrated to Anaheim from the Panama Canal Zone, a territory long contested between the United States and Panama until 1999. A student at Loara High School, Guibert became a skilled cellist, pianist and dancer. She started going steady with Tim, then just a quarterback and member of the French Club, in 1964; they married the following year, after Guibert became pregnant at 17. 'When I met him in high school, I was very busy,' Guibert says. 'I was sitting first chair cello in the Youth Symphony Orchestra. I was performing in a play. I [took] ballet, tap and modern jazz dance classes. I wanted to be an actress on Broadway. ... But I was the one with the uterus.' It was during Guibert's fifth month of pregnancy that Tim abandoned her to pursue his musical career — and tune in and drop out with the likes of 1960s icons such as Andy Warhol and Janis Joplin. The couple divorced in 1966, just a month before Jeff was born. In an show of narrative justice, the documentary juxtaposes Tim's righteous monologues against the Vietnam War and social inequality with scenes of Guibert and their son celebrating milestones in his absence. Tim remarried in 1970 and died five years later of a drug overdose. Jeff was notably omitted from the obituary and not invited to the funeral. He would later resent comparisons by music journalists to his father, whom he'd spent only a handful of days with as a child. 'I have a great admiration for Tim and what he did, and some things that he did completely embarrass me to hell,' said Jeff in a 1994 interview. 'But that's a respect to a fellow artist. Because he wasn't really my father.' Guibert wells with pride when I ask her about bringing up a rock legend in a Latino household; she and her mother sang nursery rhymes to young Jeff in Spanish. Family members often referred to him as 'El Viejito,' for his long face and an emotional literacy well beyond his years. But Guibert admits that their home life was no lighthearted family sitcom. She and her siblings were often subjected to violence at the hands of her father. 'I adored my dad, but I feared him like nothing else,' she says. 'The escape route was to get married and get the f— out of there. But after I divorced Tim, I couldn't get a checking account for my paycheck … because in those days, I had to have my father's signature. 'In spite of the machismo,' she says, she left home with Jeff at 19, got a job and started a new life in North Hollywood. 'Jeff was my rescuer. He's the reason I [said], 'You know what? I have to take my son out of here because I don't want him to grow up to be a man like [my dad].'' Guibert and Jeff often moved homes. She eventually married Jeff's stepfather, Ron Moorhead, changed Jeff's name to 'Scott' (it didn't stick) and gave birth to his half brother, Corey. Yet she continued to smoke pot and party with her peers, longing for the kind of life enjoyed by other young California girls. Jeff adopted a stern, fatherly tone with his mom, which the documentary illustrates with the missives he left on her answering machine. But however fraught, or codependent their relationship was, Guibert says, it remained strong to the end. 'He said, 'Mama, you could have given me up, you could have aborted me, you could have done all of those things and you chose to keep me,'' she recalls. 'And I think that was a bond that never could be broken.' Throughout the documentary, friends and lovers remember Jeff's bottomless well of empathy, which was no more pronounced than in his music. Perhaps due to what he described as his 'rootless' nature, he felt at ease interpreting songs by artists across cultures and genres, from Nina Simone to Edith Piaf and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, and imbuing their lyrics with his own yearning, elegiac croons. Likening himself to a 'human jukebox,' Jeff entranced millions of fans with his cover of Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah,' but he got listeners hooked with original ballads such as 'Grace' and 'Lover, You Should've Come Over.' Berg first reached out to Guibert about making a film in 2007, but it wasn't until 2019 that she agreed to share her treasure trove of archival materials. Guibert says it was her own protective, motherly instinct that gave her pause; she also preferred the idea of a scripted film. (Actor Brad Pitt had originally vetted the idea of a biopic in the '90s, but the project fell through; he eventually became executive producer of 'It's Never Over.') 'With all respect to documentarians and filmmakers, it takes a long time to really understand how things work,' Guibert says. She has previously supervised the production of all of Jeff's posthumous records, including the 1998 compilation 'Sketches for My Sweetheart, the Drunk,' and a live album released in 2000 called 'Mystery White Boy.' She adds that she made a 'handshake deal' with Don Ienner, then president of Columbia Records, to be present in the studios for the mixing process. Yet Guibert remains hesitant to share all his musical material, which is locked in a climate-controlled unit in Seattle. 'It would be like showing his dirty laundry,' she says of releasing certain recordings. 'That's what agonized him so much — that when you record things, they are forever.' Eventually, Guibert says, she would like to revisit the idea of a biopic about her son, who's continued to amass a cult following in the decades since his death. 'Grace' reentered the Billboard 200 in July and debuted on the Top Alternative Albums and Top Rock & Alternative Albums charts. 'If somebody had said you're going to be the curator for an amazing phenomenal artist, I would have said groovy — who?' Guibert says. 'If they said, 'It's your son, but he has to die first. … I'd say, 'Oh no, I'll keep being a secretary.' I'll keep selling whatever I can sell until I'm too tired and they have to put me in the home.' 'But that's not my fate,' she says, 'and that was not his.' Released by Magnolia Pictures, 'It's Never Over, Jeff Buckley' premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January and is now showing in select theaters across the U.S.
Elle
an hour ago
- Elle
Natalie Portman on the New Miss Dior and Her Viral Rihanna Encounter From Paris Fashion Week
Every item on this page was chosen by an ELLE editor. We may earn commission on some of the items you choose to buy. After almost 15 years as the face of multiple iterations of Miss Dior, Natalie Portman has become nearly synonymous with the scent. She has fronted the French fashion house's eponymous fragrance since 2011, when she starred in the Miss Dior Chérie campaign. Now, Portman is the face of Miss Dior Essence, the brand's newest fragrance launch, and she's reflecting on her years-long collaboration with Dior. 'It's been incredible to get to be with all the artists and creators,' Portman exclusively tells ELLE. 'To really start feeling like part of that family has been incredible. You definitely have that outsider feeling when you start, and as the years go by, you feel part of it. When I go to work, it becomes like going to see family. It feels very warm and at home, like we're creating something together.' The new Miss Dior Essence, imagined by Francis Kurkdjian, creative director of Dior Perfumes, is a fruity take on a gourmand. It leads with juicy blackberry notes and elderberry and blooms into floral jasmine and heady oak. Much like Portman, the scent has evolved with the house, 'like a liberated girl who dares to wear the vibrant looks and fuchsia miniskirts now seen on the catwalks of Dior shows,' according to Kurkdjian. Ahead, Portman talks to ELLE about her earliest scent memory, which of her iconic characters would wear the new Miss Dior Essence, and the viral interaction she had at Paris Fashion Week with Rihanna, who declared her 'one of the hottest bitches in Hollywood forever.' I always think that what you eat is the most central part of your beauty routine. I make sure to drink lots of water, and I eat a vegan diet, which is helpful. I wash my face with Tata Harper cleanser; I use the Dior cream as a moisturizer, and that's it. Kind of simple. I love fragrance. I love the smell of products too. The Dior cream smells of roses; the Tata Harper has a very distinctive jasmine smell. Then, of course, I use perfume for different occasions. On a day out I might use the Miss Dior Essence, and at night I might use the Miss Dior Parfum. I remember being in citrus groves as a kid, and the smell of orange blossom is still one of my favorites. I love how concentrated and bold it is. It really has all of that fruity, woody, floral quality, while also being very feminine. It gives a strong personality while still feeling romantic. It makes me feel bold, daring, and feminine—it reminds me of being in love with love, and wanting that deep, passionate, wild experience. The music helps a lot—playing the music that's in the scene and being in these incredible locations, like the library or the rooftop. And then, of course, the scent itself helps me get in character. I feel like Jackie O. would wear this fragrance. Maybe Queen Amidala. Oh, it was such an incredible moment for me personally. I admire her so much, and I was shocked that it became something people paid attention to—I didn't even realize anyone caught it on camera. It was amazing to meet her and to have her be so kind. She's such an incredible artist and woman. It was a very sweet, very nice moment. I think I used to think of beauty as something to conform to—an ideal to please other people. Now it's much more about bringing out my own individuality and making myself happy, making myself feel good. This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
Chicago Tribune
3 hours ago
- Chicago Tribune
Editorial: Even an honored Kiss is better than UFC on the White House lawn
For an early look at the culture wars, we suggest listening (if you can find it) to the 2002 interview with Gene Simmons, the Israel-born bass guitarist of Kiss, conducted by Terry Gross, the dignified host of NPR's 'Fresh Air.' Things jumped the shark when the chat turned to the topic of the codpiece routinely worn on stage by Simmons, also notorious for his theatrically snaking tongue. 'It holds in my manhood,' Simmons said to Gross, 'otherwise it would be too much for you to take. You'd have to put the book down and confront life.' That's the printable part. Thereafter, Simmons appeared to crudely sexually proposition Gross who kept her dignity. 'I would like to think that the personality you've presented on our show today is a persona that you've affected as a member of Kiss,' she said at the end of one of the most bizarre interviews in public radio history, 'something you do on stage, before the microphone, but that you're not nearly as obnoxious in the privacy of your own home or when you're having dinner with friends.' We aren't so sure. Either way, Simmons did not deserve such generosity. But now look at where we are. NPR and WHYY-FM in Philadelphia are struggling to replace lost federal funding and Simmons is getting ready to strut across the stage of the Kennedy Center to receive one of the nation's highest cultural honors from the president of the United States. We suspect that if either Gross or Simmons had been told that future lay ahead, neither one of them would have believed it possible. The spectacle of Trump's Kennedy Center honors list is so absurd as to threaten to make us wordless. But we're not so easily cowered. We'll let others huff and puff, as indeed they have and just observe for the umpteenth time that certain things in America are not supposed to be entirely about the taste of the president. Ya know? What constitutes artistic excellence is not beyond political implication, of course. And Trump's list is not the first to reflect some presidential preference. We don't (outside of Simmons) even think it's that terrible: Gloria Gaynor, George Strait, Sylvester Stallone and Michael Crawford are all compelling creatives, although the last named has actually done very few shows in the U.S., despite being a beloved U.K. actor. But he did do the one that mattered, albeit decades ago: 'The Phantom of the Opera,' a musical that happens to be Trump's favorite and one of the few he has actually . Boom! Give the man an honor! (Although we were reliably informed that no one was more surprised to hear Trump's announcement than Crawford; the president knows the danger of people turning him down.) There's nothing wrong with populist honorees or conservative honorees and, yes, a case could be made that past slates were a tad stuffy and/or curated to the taste of the liberal elite. A separate case could also be made that they don't matter, like the Oscars or the Emmys or other such kudos. True, as compared with Trump's negotiations with Vladimir Putin, for sure. But for those who work in culture, they do reflect a lifetime of achievement, often at much personal cost. Whether or not one individual happened to walk through the door and tap his toe is incidental. There are those who follow these things and are available to advise presidents. We hope Trump might avail himself of one. And no, Mr. President, honoring yourself next year is not really something done. We wonder, though, what Gross, who is still at her microphone, might have to say if the rumors are true about a Ultimate Fighting Championship battle on the White House lawn coming up July Fourth. That level of debasement makes this year's Kennedy Center honors look as a benign as a celebration of 'The Sound of Music.' Fox News reported Friday that first daughter Ivanka Trump, apparently a UFC fan, is pushing for the event as part of the nation's 250th birthday celebrations. On a podcast, UFC President and CFO Dana White promised 'the baddest card of all time.' God Save America. Gross, we hope, has not been asked to do the color commentary.
