I designed Meghan's £2.5k heart pendant – these are the style rules I swear by
Want to know how to spot a London girl in Miami? Look for the one cooing over knitwear (jumpers being far more useful back home than bikinis). 'Look how fun this is!' says Sophie Lis, holding her just-procured Sabal tie-dye cashmere cardigan up to her laptop camera.
Lis, 41, is the jewellery designer whose Magic Leaf hoops and Love pendant have been worn by Sienna Miller and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. This week she's traded Notting Hill for Florida to attend a jewellery conference, and the brightness of her surroundings has recalibrated her palette. 'I think it's the sun. It's the only time I wear colour.'
Still, today she is wearing a more typical outfit of sleek, neutral separates: a vintage Saint Laurent blazer, black J Crew T-shirt, Khaite jeans and a Saint Laurent belt. She's a smart shopper who mixes Alex Eagle tailoring, Galvan coats and Raey knits with Cos T-shirts and luxury resale gems – most recently, a pair of The Row zip-up boots from Vestiaire Collective. 'I'd been looking for them for ages and finally found them. It can take time, but it's worth it.'
Lis adores a surprise high street hit, too, such as the white Reiss tuxedo that admirers mistake for Max Mara. Black and white are a theme – she 'never' wears colour in London. 'Getting dressed up for me would be a great pair of leather shorts, fantastic tailoring or, at most, sequins,' she says.
'But jewellery is always the thing that I'm going to have more fun with,' she adds, before running me through her six different earrings (' I like to mismatch ' the stacks of three on each side); necklaces (her Compass pendant 'symbolises guidance and direction, which is nice when you're travelling'); bracelets (three prototypes of diamond tennis bracelets worn on the same wrist as yellow-gold Cartier Love and Juste un Clou bangles); and rings.
There's memory and meaning in every item. 'Special pieces of jewellery should tell stories. Everything I design has a symbolic reference to help someone bond with it. And then hopefully enjoy wearing it even more.'
The most meaningful pieces in her daily jewel-drobe are two rings spelling out her daughters' initials in Morse code, with each dot or dash indicated by a brilliant-cut round or baguette diamond – like a stealth but equally personal alternative to the name necklaces so many mothers wear. Octavia, aged seven, and Lupita, four, know exactly which is which. 'They love to try 'their' ring on.''
Lis recalls a 'totally idyllic childhood riding horses and surrounded by animals' in rural Oxfordshire. But jewellery also entered the frame early; she remembers being entranced by her grandmother's diamond cluster ring. She started her business in 2016 after struggling to find jewellery at a sweet-spot price point for her wedding. Now, the Fallen Star hoop earrings (£460) she designed for her big day are her bestsellers, and have been worn by Claire Foy, Princess Eugenie and Romeo Beckham.
Seeing high-profile fans in her designs is always exciting, but she finds another type of jewellery-spotting even more gratifying. 'The real 'wow' moment is when I see strangers wearing them out in their everyday lives,' Lis says, 'loving them as much as I do.'
Sophie Lis's five rules for personal style
Don't be afraid to mismatch your earrings. It's an easy way to add interest around the face, which is never a bad thing
Find clever ways to buy the best-quality pieces you can. Set up alerts on resale sites to help you shop smarter – you never know what you might find
A matching set like a tuxedo or co-ord takes the stress out of putting an outfit together and looks super-chic. Then you can have fun with the accessories
Try to choose natural fabrics over man-made. I think they look and feel better, and they're better for the environment
Raid your husband's wardrobe and you'll have a second set of clothes for free. I love to wear my husband's oversized jumpers and sports tops
Shop her style
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Telegraph
4 hours ago
- Telegraph
We fell in love over cocktails, and wine. Could our relationship survive when I went sober?
When we both ordered Old Fashioneds on our first date in 2012, I thought my husband might be the one. Dale told me that, when it came to cocktails, he had a sweet tooth, and he couldn't resist a maraschino cherry or a tiny umbrella. I felt exactly the same way. I was smitten. Cocktails defined our courtship. We went to the Ivy, the Connaught, the American Bar at the Savoy. Not long after we met, he whisked me away to Paris, then Venice, and we attempted to drink in every bar Hemingway hung out in – quite quickly, we discovered this was pretty much every bar we passed. We went to New York and stayed at the Algonquin – and stayed up at the bar. Dale was happy to indulge my Dorothy Parker fixation. I started to wonder exactly what Parker's problem was. I couldn't channel her cynicism, any more. I was drunk, in love. Eventually, we settled into a real-life rhythm. We moved in together and ticked every box on the newly cohabiting couple bingo card. We'd cook, we'd buy nice wine, we'd host and attend boozy dinner parties. We'd make noises about taking a week off drinking, then we'd meet in the pub after a particularly tricky day at work, drink more than we meant to, and buy chips on the way home. We'd attempt dry January or Sober October, with varying levels of success. We'd have a drink when we went to the cinema, or the theatre. We became engaged in the summer of 2014, and we married in the Autumn of 2015 – I reckon I was drunk on champagne for the best part of 18 months. However, as my 30s progressed, I started to question my relationship with alcohol. I was struggling to manage my anxiety, and drinking exacerbated it. My hangovers got worse – I'd wake up feeling afraid – it was as though my bones knew something dreadful was going to happen, even though my brain could find no evidence to back this up. I became hypervigilant about work, worrying obsessively about making a mistake and failing, checking my emails constantly and obsessively. My alcohol-related anxiety shrank my ambition. I turned down exciting assignments, because I convinced myself that I wouldn't be able to do a good job. I never did anything dreadful – my worst drunken stunt was usually ordering a large Dominos pizza and then trying to beat it home. The binge eating was another issue: I was gaining weight and always trying a new diet. I'd drink on an empty stomach, then eat the contents of the kitchen cupboards for dinner. Dale was patient and kind, but baffled. He'd always been better than I was at knowing his limits and calling it a night. Yet, the more unhappy and anxious I became, the more I drank. Sometimes I'd go out without him and come home hopelessly drunk. We'd argue in the morning , because he'd been worried about my safety. I'd feel terrible about what I'd put him through and promise myself that I'd never do it again. Until the next time. For years, I wrestled with alcohol and my mental health, in secret. I thought that if I could get my anxiety under control, I'd be able to drink happily, in moderation, like everyone else. I still loved drinking with Dale. We moved to the Kent coast – we'd walk off our hangovers beside the sea, and he'd tell me everything was going to be OK. But mentally, I was going to some shockingly dark places. I was scared to tell Dale just how low I felt, because I was scared to express my thoughts out loud. I started reading memoirs about sobriety and addiction. At first, I was trying to reassure myself that I was fine and I didn't have a real problem. Maybe I was going through a phase, but I was startled to discover how much I had in common with the people I was reading about. The books made me feel less alone and less ashamed, but I couldn't ignore the facts that were in front of me. I couldn't drink like other people – not even my husband. We'd fallen in love under the spell of a magic potion. Now it was poisoning me. Every day, I went back and forth. I couldn't quit. I had to quit. I just needed a month off. We were going on holiday, then to a festival, then to a fortieth birthday party... As soon as the calendar was calmer, I'd take a break. The holiday was our first post-Covid trip – starting in Copenhagen, then on to Malmö and Stockholm. I'd been looking forward to it for a long time. On our first night we went out for gin cocktails, before dinner with a wine flight. And on our second day, I started crying, and I couldn't stop. I cried all the way to Malmö. I was in the dark and I couldn't get out. I realised I had to try sobriety, because nothing else was working. For Dale, a lot of this seemed to come out of nowhere. It was hard for both of us. He was sympathetic, but frustrated. He knew people who had problems with addiction, and I didn't fit the profile. For him, the trip marked the end of a big work project – he wanted to celebrate and have fun. 'At the time, I thought 'Can't she just wait until we're back from our holiday?'' he told me, later. But he knew that I was desperate and frightened. Together, we took it one day at a time – some occasions were more challenging than others. At first, I struggled when I was socialising, and we'd bicker about when we could go home – if I had my way, we'd leave 20 minutes after arriving. We tried to go to bars together, and I turned into a whiny fun sponge, complaining that everywhere was too loud, too crowded and too hot. I suspect that we came quite close to divorce when I was about three months in sobriety, and I'd wake up every morning and give Dale a TED talk on how well I'd slept. We missed our favourite drinking rituals, but we found new ones. When I finished a novel, Dale bought me a bottle of Wild Idol non-alcoholic champagne to celebrate. Instead of seeking out new cocktail bars, we went on missions to discover the best gelato. And I started to realise that without booze, I was, on balance, a better partner. I still had dark days, but they didn't become dark weeks or months. I had more energy and enthusiasm for trying new things, from exhibitions to cinema trips. We went out for dinner less, but we went out for breakfast more. I often thought it was a shame that neither of us could drive – poor Dale missed out on the biggest potential benefit of a newly sober spouse, a late-night chauffeur. I asked Shahroo Izadi, a psychologist, addiction specialist and behavioural change expert, about the challenges that a couple in our situation might face and how you can both support each other when one of you goes sober. She told me: 'What often creates tension is the assumption that one partner's choice to stop drinking is a silent judgement on the other – or on drinking itself. In truth, it's usually about recognising the personal impact alcohol has on them – not alcohol itself being 'bad.' The key is to communicate your needs without moralising: 'This is something I'm working on, and here's how you can support me,' rather than implying anyone else needs to change.' Her words strike a chord: if I've learnt anything since I stopped drinking, it's that alcohol affects everyone differently. I feel as though I'm 'emotionally allergic' to booze – I wouldn't necessarily expect Dale, or anyone else to respond to alcohol in the way that I did. It's coming up to three years since I stopped drinking. I believe it's one of the best things I've ever done – I think I'm happier, and I think our marriage is stronger. But in the interests of accuracy, I had to ask Dale what he thought. 'It's been much easier than I thought it would be. Drinking together was always fun, and I never thought you had a problem, so I was a bit shocked and sad when you stopped. Maybe the hardest part was not knowing how much you were struggling in silence. But three years on, you seem calmer and happier and our life and our routine hasn't changed that much. We still go out and have fun together. I drink a bit less, and I feel better for it. For me, the biggest benefit is probably that I don't worry as much when you're out late without me.' Quitting drinking was hard. Having a supportive partner made it much easier. I don't know that I'd still be sober if I was with someone who pressured me to come to the pub, for 'just the one'. I know that this has been challenging for both of us, in different ways. I worried that without booze, I wouldn't be any fun. But before I quit, I wasn't fun at all. Just anxious and unhappy. Now I'm calmer, more confident and more energetic – and hopefully, nicer to be married to. Sometimes sobriety seems bittersweet. I miss getting tipsy with Dale, and I'm sad that there aren't any more shared Old Fashioneds in our future. But we can still toast each other if I'm holding a mocktail. And there's always gelato.
Daily Mail
6 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Chic $12.5M Santa Monica home dubbed the 'White Lotus Sanctuary' has a fascinating link to Hollywood icon
A Santa Monica mansion once rumored to have been used by Charlie Chaplin and later transformed into an artistic haven by a legendary painter has hit the market for a whopping $12.5million. The spectacular home is built almost entirely of organic materials including limestone and teak wood throughout and boasts 500-year-old monastery doors and hand-carved Indonesian stone baths. There are two main bedroom suites plus three additional bedroom suites. The master suite boasts an impressive closet. The living room, dining room and open kitchen-family room form a courtyard that creates a resort-like interior-exterior space that looks out on to an inviting swimming pool. It's now being listed by Compass agent Frank Langen who calls it a ' White Lotus ' sanctuary. 'The impressive innocuous wall enclosing the compound gives only a slight hint of the Pura, 'White Lotus' vibe behind it,' the listing writes. 'When entering through the repurposed 500-year-old monastery gates one is immediately immersed into the harmony of the environment,' it adds. Part of the lot was formerly a two-story fire station. The legendary British comedian, producer, writer, director and composer Charlie Chaplin once used it to store his prized collection of fire trucks. But the home's most remarkable chapter began when world-renowned abstract expressionist painter Sam Francis took over the property, transforming it into his permanent creative sanctuary and studio. Francis turned the space into a bustling hub for the LA art scene, with an open-door policy that welcomed notable artists like Ed Ruscha, Ed Moses, Larry Bell and Ken Price. 'The two story fire station was Sam's painting studio,' Langen told 'There are images online with him and his art in that space.' The property became synonymous with California's artistic renaissance, hosting countless creative minds who shaped modern American art. However tragedy struck in 2007 when a devastating fire destroyed much of Francis' original 1920s home. But a new owner stepped in and enlisted renowned Malibu architect Christopher Sorensen to create something even more spectacular. He created a gorgeous fusion of sustainable luxury and artistic heritage that took five years to complete. The rebuilt mansion follows LEED certification guidelines while incorporating materials that span centuries and continents. The environment mixes calm sophistication by blending classical and traditional styles while including modern amenities. A closet is seen above The home's most show-stopping feature is its swimming pool - which doesn't just sit beside the kitchen but actually flows directly through it. It's finished with bulletproof glass that allows underwater views while preparing meals. The property has a three-car garage and sits on a rare double street-to-street lot which offers an extra layer of privacy. The environment mixes calm sophistication by blending classical and traditional styles while including modern amenities. 'The whole style was changed to a South East Asian vibe from a more traditional style,' said Langen. The overall aesthetic combines 'pleasing Balinese influences with thoughtful, precise functionality', the listing states.
Daily Mail
16 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Australia's most 'wholesome' bachelor wins hearts across the country with his very candid message: 'This is so cute'
Australia's most 'wholesome' bachelor has drawn praise across the country after he shared a heartfelt video looking for a potential suitor. Perth man Sam said he was ready for a long-term relationship after having 'no luck on the dating apps'. In a video viewed more than 580,000 times on TikTok, the 28-year-old said he thought he would try a different way of finding his future love interest. 'This is my dating application video on TikTok,' he said. 'I'm blind in one eye, I like video games, hiking, camping, adventures, photography, vlogging, and travelling. 'I'm preferably looking for a long term relationship.' The young man said he was looking for somebody about his age and in Australia. 'So this is my third take of this video and I really hope that this reaches the right people and hopefully something comes out of this,' he said. 'So, yeah, feel free to drop any, feel free to drop a few comments. 'And, feel free to shoot me a DM or if you're a gamer, add me on Discord. I also don't smoke or do drugs or have kids. 'I'd like someone who I can travel the world with and make memories with.' Many social media users said they empathised with Sam's dating troubles. 'Dating apps are a horrible experience. You seem so lovely! I hope this reaches the right person,' one woman wrote. 'This is wholesome bro, take it from someone who's been where you are and is dating the most amazing girl, you're gonna find the right girl!' one bloke said. 'Keep your standards high, don't change for anyone and remember, you can't say the wrong thing to the right person! Good luck bro!' 'My husband is also blind in one eye! i hope you have better luck on TikTok, dating apps suck,' a third said. 'Fingers crossed you can find a girl that aligns with your values! you seem like such great value.' Others were sure the video would reach an apt bachelorette. 'This is the sweetest, most wholesome thing I've ever seen! good luck out there and I wish you all the best and you will find someone perfect for you,' one woman wrote. 'You seem like such a kind genuine soul, i hope you find someone who deserves you and makes you happy,' another wrote. 'You seem like such a lovely guy! The right ones definitely out there good luck Sam we're all rooting for you!' a third added. One man congratulated his bravery. 'Luck to you, tops for putting it out there like this. Brave and bold mate,' he wrote. Other viewers offered to be his wingmen and wingwomen. 'Good luck Sam! You've got this,' one woman said.
