Latest news with #Elyse
Graziadaily
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Graziadaily
Stella McCartney Revives Her Most Controversial Shoe - And Gen Z Is Obsessed.
Fashion's necromantic tendencies - its compulsive need to to resurrect the dead - can be equal part revelation and regret. Some silhouettes require a respectful dormancy to build desire again, while others deserve to stay buried in the murky depths of a mothballed wardrobe. And yet, here we are, brushing off a shoe that once loomed large in the collective Tumblr consciousness: Stella McCartney's Elyse platform. From L-R: Kendall Jenner; Rihanna ©Getty Yes, those shoes. The architectural, vegan brogues-on-stilts that looked part orthopaedic fantasy, part Spice Girls tour memorabilia. The kind of footwear that walked so Margiela's Tabi boots could sprint through Tik Tok. And now, they're back - in a limited edition capsule of four styles, made using mycelium-based faux snakeskin and apple waste masquerading as cruelty-free croc. Which feels suitably 2025, doesn't it? Stella McCartney Autumn/Winter '14 ©Stella McCartney The always vegan Elyse first appeared on McCartney's Autumn/Winter '14 runway, a moment of maximalism wedged between normcore and streetwear taking over. It was also around the time that Kim K broke the internet with her Paper Magazine cover, and the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge poured all over our feeds. Back then, the Elyse had cultural pull: Rihanna wore them, Kendall wore them, Gigi wore them. And by proxy, you wanted to wear them too, even if they made stairs a risky sport. Are they comfortable? Yes. Are they chic in the traditional sense? Absolutely not. But that's never been the point. The Elyse is less about refinement and more about sartorial punctuation. It's the kind of shoe that makes people stare (and occasionally trip). It's the same oddball appeal as Marant's wedge trainers or the return of Dior's early-aughts monogram saddle bags. So ugly they transcend. So try-hard they circle back to cool. Which is exactly what makes them ripe for revival. If Gen Z can embrace five-toed Vibramswith a straight face and the wrong-shoe-theory (never mind camel toe Nike trainers), then there's room on the shelf (albeit a reinforced one) for Stella's Frankenstein creepers. Now the reincarnated Elyse arrives with a freshly filtered face: Amelia Gray, model du jour and walking FYP, fronts the campaign. It's the stamp of approval that turns retro into relevant, and signals to a new generation that fashion is most fun when it doesn't take itself too seriously. In short: we're in. Again, just watch your ankles. 1. Stella McCartney, Elyse Platform 2. Stella McCartney, Elyse Platform 3. Stella McCartney, Elyse Platform Henrik Lischke is the senior fashion news and features editor at Grazia. Prior to that, he worked at British Vogue, and was junior fashion editor at The Sunday Times Style.
Cosmopolitan
30-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Cosmopolitan
My Best Friend Started Dating My Ex-Husband
Elyse and I stood in the driveway of my empty home, surrounded by suitcases. 'I can't go with you to the airport. It'll make me too sad,' she cried. I nodded, choking back sobs. I was moving from Maui to LA to be closer to my long-distance boyfriend. Saying goodbye to my best friend hurt worse than any previous heartbreak. She and I were so close we could make eye contact across a crowded room and know exactly what the other was thinking. 'Nothing is going to change,' I blubbered. For a while (aside from being 2,500 miles apart), nothing did. We talked all the time, continuing to divulge every aspect of our inner emotional worlds. Then, three months post-move, my phone rang. 'I had sex with Brooke. Please, don't be mad,' Elyse said, her voice shaky. 'I've been so scared to tell you.' My stomach churned as she explained how she'd run into my ex-husband, Brooke, at a party the previous weekend. He'd flirted first. 'Do you like him?' I asked. Surely, they'd made a drunken mistake. 'Yes,' she whispered. 'But, if it bothers you, I won't see him anymore.' 'I don't care,' I lied. 'Go for it.' In my twenties, I would've thrown my phone across the room. The unwritten tenets of 'girl code' mandated one never hooked up with their bestie's ex. As Gretchen Wieners in Mean Girls succinctly explained: 'Ex-boyfriends are off limits to friends. That's just, like, the rules of feminism.' But, at 36, I bristled against the notion of implied ownership over another person. Eight years had passed since my decade-long relationship (including a nine-month marriage) with Brooke ended. No unresolved feelings lingered. I wanted Elyse to be happy. Him, too. Besides, I was deeply in love and had been with my boyfriend for a year! So why did the thought of them together make me want to projectile vomit? I was 22 when Brooke and I got married. College sweethearts, a wedding seemed the natural next step after graduation. We relocated from the Pacific Northwest to Maui so he could pursue a career in conservation. But our vows were short-lived. Six weeks after we said, 'I do,' I had an affair, blowing up our relationship. Nine months later, we signed our divorce papers. That morning, I'd driven from the paralegal's windowless office to my job at a clothing boutique. I arrived bereft. My new co-worker Elyse listened without judgment as I trauma-dumped. It was our first shift together. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It's all going to work out the way it's meant to.' When she suggested we don the store's finest garments and drink champagne to toast this new chapter of my life, I rolled my eyes. Still, I was drawn to her whimsy. We could only afford cans of sparkling wine, which we drank dancing to music at full blast. Tipsy, we closed the store early to eat sandwiches on the floor, cry-laughing as confused tourists knocked to be let inside. Several months later, Brooke and I reconciled. Though we never remarried, we moved back in together for another four years. Our second chance wasn't enough for us to make it work long-term—my affair still loomed heavy over our relationship. In the aftermath of that final breakup, I spiraled, partying hard and seeking comfort with men who wouldn't normally be a blip on my radar. I was 18 when Brooke and I first met—we essentially grew up together, dating all four years of college, getting married right after, divorcing nine months later, then reuniting and cohabitating for another four years after that. I was 28 the final time we slept together, and by then, I didn't know how to be without him. He was my first experience with unconditional love. Elyse was my second. She pulled me from my burning pile of self-destruction. The sharp ache of my breakup was blunted by her steadfast companionship. Now, my past had become her present. In the weeks after Elyse admitted her feelings for Brooke, I listened to her palpable giddiness on the phone as she recounted their budding courtship. I wanted to share in her excitement. But whenever she said his name, my chest tightened. Why were we pretending this man and I didn't share an intimate and complicated history? Had she forgotten her pivotal role in helping me move on from him? How did I possibly fit into the picture now? Did they talk about me? Even worse, did they not talk about me at all?! Instead of asking her these questions, I hid behind a smile, desperately wishing for everything to return to normal. To our friends, I'd say with a nasty smirk, 'I give them a month. Tops.' Within three, they catapulted from casual dating to full-fledged monogamy. The closer they got, the further I grew from Elyse. Information she used to confide in me first now trickled in from other sources. She didn't tell me when her intuitive healer had a vision of her and Brooke surrounded by their future children. Nor did she mention when they said I love you for the first time. In turn, I stopped reaching out to her in moments of joy and sadness. When my boyfriend proposed on a beach in Mexico. When I became pregnant. When I suffered a miscarriage that landed me in the ER. That spring, Elyse flew to Washington to meet Brooke's family. Through the lens of social media, I watched her immersion into a life that was once mine. I flinched at the photos—the flowers in his mother's garden, Elyse's face pressed adoringly to his. I'd lost her to him. In a way, I grieved for him again, too. I liked all the pictures, of course, proving with a digital heart I was the bigger person. I wasn't. That summer, my boyfriend and I decided to forgo a traditional wedding, opting to throw a small party in our backyard with our closest friends. Part of me longed for Elyse to be there. In the end, I didn't invite her. This was the slight that broke the dam of our repressed silence. In a heated email, she accused me of pushing her away first. 'You said you were okay with us from the get-go,' she wrote. 'Your feelings changed. You didn't talk to me about it. Are you jealous?' Reading it, I spat out my coffee. Me? Jealous?! Of what?! I had zero desire to be with my ex-husband again. I wanted an acknowledgment that she knew sleeping with Brooke could irrevocably alter our friendship. That in that moment, she'd chosen him over us. As soon as I said it, I realized she was right. I was deeply jealous—not of Elyse, but of Brooke. The idea that jealousy was an emotion to abhor was just as ingrained in me as the concept of 'girl code.' It'd been easier to focus on Elyse's alleged disloyalty than it was for me to look inward. When I did finally accept my jealousy, I saw it stemmed from fear and anxiety. I didn't want him back in my orbit in this strange new way. I also didn't see a world in which the three of us could be friends, and I was afraid I would lose her altogether. By gossiping behind her back and being dishonest about my true feelings, I'd made that world a terrible reality. My shame over being jealous had allowed resentment to rot the roots where love and trust once bloomed. In only seven months, I destroyed one of the most important friendships of my life. My reckoning came too late. Despite trying to apologize for my behavior, Elyse wasn't ready. I'd wounded her. For three years, we existed on the periphery of friends. Then, early in the pandemic, I picked up the phone. It felt like an eternity had passed since we'd last spoken. As the line rang, I chewed on my lip, unsure she'd even accept my call. 'Hi!' Elyse answered. She sounded tentative, but happy. A mixture of relief, sadness, and hope overwhelmed me. I'd missed my friend dearly. 'I'm pregnant,' I said. 'We're having a baby girl.' That day we talked and talked, catching up about our lives, how scary and dark the world felt. It was the first of many phone calls to come. Slowly, we rebuilt our communication and trust. Now, we're even closer than before, and when I look at Brooke, I don't see my ex-husband. I see a devoted, adoring partner to a woman I cherish. Recently, I flew to Maui to co-host Elyse's baby shower. On the day of her celebration, I stood in front of the guests to offer a toast. Elyse was resplendent in fuchsia, her belly draped in strands of flowers. I raised a glass of champagne, my voice breaking as I tried to convey my love and happiness for her. We locked eyes, and she smiled. I didn't have to say anything. She already knew.
Daily Mirror
26-05-2025
- Politics
- Daily Mirror
Moment Emmanuel Macron snubbed by furious wife after she slaps him during row
French President Mr Macron and his wife Brigitte were captured in what looked like a lover's spat as they arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam, at the start of a South East Asia tour Emmanuel Macron could be seen flinching away from his wife Brigitte as she appeared to smack him in a dramatic moment aboard the French President's jet. The French premier and his wife touched down in Hanoi, Vietnam this morning as the two started the first leg of a tour through South East Asia, with the two set to spend three days in the nation before moving onwards to Indonesia and Singapore. Their globetrotting plans seemed to start on a sour note, however, when a video captured what appeared to be Mrs Macron slapping or pushing her husband of nearly 20 years in the face before snubbing him. The video shows Mr Macron wincing away from his wife before composing himself and starting to walk down the stairs and seemingly extending an olive branch. He holds out his hand to escort Mrs Macron down the steps of the jet gangway, but is quickly brushed away by the 72-year-old, who clings on to the staircase railing instead. The two descend to the bottom of the stairs in silence, with Mr Macron offering brief smiles for onlookers while his wife wore a steely expression. The video has caused a massive stir, dampening what was meant to be a triumphant tour strengthening French relations with its partners in Asia. Initially, French media reported that the Elyse denied the authenticity of the video and other images, but later backtracked, confirming they were real but downplaying their significance. The French President explained away the footage as "nothing", saying he was "bickering, or rather joking" with his wife. A body language expert has said the interaction appeared anything but "playful", suggesting instead that the exchange was "genuinely shocking". She told the Daily Mail: "This will inevitably be turned into a 'joke' by some people but I would call it genuinely shocking and I would say the same if it was any other couple walking down any street, no matter who did it to who." The expert added that neither Mr or Mrs Macron laughed or teased together after the initial interaction. She said: "There is no follow-up shared laughter, grins or teasing rituals, Macron performs a "think-on-your-feet" wave before stepping back in towards his wife, but he seems to touch his face too, in a checking gesture." The Elysee provided a very different perspective on events, going as far as to suggest they were sharing a "moment of closeness". A spokesperson said: "It was a moment when the president and his wife were relaxing one last time before the start of the trip by having a laugh... It was a moment of closeness."
Business Journals
01-05-2025
- Health
- Business Journals
St. Patrick's Day stroke survivor grateful to be alive
For the Transon family, St. Patrick's Day – and the parade through the streets of downtown Milwaukee – is an annual tradition. Bob Transon, 76 from Delafield, was on hand for the festivities on March 9, 2024. He had a special reason to be there. His daughter, Elyse, was marching in the parade, leading her very own Milwaukee Irish Dance Studio through a traditional St. Patrick's Day performance. After the parade, Bob and Elyse met up. As they finished their conversation, Elyse went on her way. Immediately after, Bob slumped over in his seat and was beginning to slur his speech. Elyse raced back to her dad, and he was unresponsive. 'I grabbed his hand and said, what's going on, it's me, dad, grab my hand. And…nothing,' said Elyse. They called 911 and an ambulance rushed Bob and Elyse to Aurora St. Luke's Medical Center in Milwaukee. There, Aurora St. Luke's 24/7 on-call stroke team did a scan that showed Transon had just suffered a stroke. A stroke occurs when there is sudden bleeding in the brain, known as a hemorrhagic stroke, or when blood flow to the brain is blocked. This is known as an ischemic stroke, and this is what struck Bob. Without a steady supply of blood, brain cells begin to die, potentially leading to permanent neurological damage. expand With Transon 's life in the balance, Aurora's stroke team acted quickly. After the initial scan and just 20 minutes after arrival, clot-busting meds were administered, and he was taken into surgery. Within 80 minutes, a thrombectomy was performed to reopen the blocked blood vessel in his brain and Transon's condition was stabilized. 'The whole reason that these procedures are successful is because of efficient communication from the second the patient arrives to the hospital, getting things ready and prepped. It's a strong team working together very efficiently,' said Dr. Amanda Willcox, neurologist at Aurora Health Care who performed Transon's thrombectomy. Thanks to response times faster than industry benchmarks, Transon went home two days later and made a full recovery. 'I can't praise the people that helped me out at Aurora St. Luke's enough. If it wasn't for their quickness, there would be more residual issues,' said Transon. 'The hospital staff was tremendous. They said to me 'you're like a walking miracle,' and I attribute that to the speed, the surgeon and the nurses that took care of me.' expand When it comes to stroke care, time is brain. Every second counts. During May and American Stroke Month, it's important to know and recognize the BEFAST warning signs: Thanks to knowing these warning signs and the quick response of the team at Aurora St. Luke's, Bob and Elyse are able to celebrate more special St. Patrick's Days in the future. 'It's humbling,' said Willcox. 'The whole reason we utilize these technologies is for outcomes like this.'
