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Cosmopolitan
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Cosmopolitan
Move over Manolos! Where Carrie Bradshaw's new fave shoes & outfits in And Just Like That... season 3 are from
A Fendi Baguette bag, a pink tulle tutu and a newspaper print dress make up just some of Carrie Bradshaw's most recognisable fashion items, but perhaps nothing is more closely associated with the fictional style icon than her love of shoes. Specifically, Manolo Blahnik's, with the designer receiving multiple name checks throughout the six seasons of Sex and The City. However, it seems Sarah Jessica Parker's alter-ego is turning to a different shoe brand to fill the shelves in her expansive wardrobe, at least according to the latest season of And Just Like That... which will be landing on our screens every Thursday from today. That's our evening plans sorted for the foreseeable. But back to the shoes. The season three trailer opens with a close-up shot of what is obviously Carrie strutting across hardwood floors. Our very first glimpse of Carrie, and it's her feet. Or rather, her shoes, because the vibrant orange and pink clashing metallic platform heels with lightning bolt detailing are sooo Carrie-coded. The shoes in question are, of course, Terry de Havilland's Zie Platform Heel, possessing all of the British brand's signature design details. Carrie's in good company with Kate Moss, Margot Robbie and Millie Bobby Brown also amongst the footwear label's A-list fans. Sarah Jessica Parker has also been seen wearing the '70s-inspired designs IRL, even when she's not on set portraying the New York journalist. And they're far from the only pair featured in the show. The Lena Non Stop Disco Platform Heels previously made an appearance in season one of AJLT..., after costume designer Molly Rogers purchased a selection directly through the website like any other shopper. As soon as the episode dropped, sales of the shoes soared by 131%, with a 240% increase in year-on-year sales across the site throughout the three months the show aired. Since then, TDH has worked closely with the show's costume team, so it's no surprise that even more of the brand's bold, unapologetic designs – from dazzling heeled sandals to vibrant platforms – promise to steal the scenes in series three. Including a metallic turquoise blue iteration of the New York sandal. 'The New York sandal is actually a redeveloped archive Terry de Havilland style. Molly found an original vintage '70s version at London's Portobello Market and loved it. We then re-created it in a new colour way especially for Carrie,' Josh Spurling, Operations Director at TDH, tells Cosmopolitan UK. Of course, Carrie's shoes aren't the only thing to catch our eye in the latest season of And Just Like That... Keep scrolling for all the details on her outfits throughout season three. Unsurprisingly, the internet went wild over Carrie's gigantic gingham bonnet by Maryam Keyhani. She paired it with a multicoloured Ossie Clark dress, a Pierre Cardin purple cloth handbag, and threw her support behind the ugly shoes trend in Dr. Scholl's clog mule sandals. Ever on trend, Carrie puts her own spin on the naked dressing trend in this see-through nude tulle midi dress and matching puff sleeve drawstring waist duster coat from Simone Rocha's spring summer 2024 collection. With 3D flowers incorporated into the design, it also ticks off the corsage look. If you've resisted jumping on the spring summer fashion trend for polka dots, maybe Carrie's blouse can convince you otherwise? She paired it with pink paint-splattered trousers for a lesson in pattern-clashing with red sandals completing the look. Speaking of pattern clashing, only Carrie could pull off a mint green graphic print top with Zimmerman pink and purple floral print satin trousers. Her crystal-embellished Aquazzura mules and side pony are peak '90s – we love! This 'fit is classic Carrie: a vintage mint-green Yves Saint Laurent pussybow blouse, a flippy tiered pink vintage Gucci skirt and Aquazzura sling-back heels. We're drooling over that bejewelled Gucci bag. Carrie, Charlotte and Miranda crowded around a bar table? It's like the OG days! (Almost...) In this scene, Carrie wears a Zandra Rhodes blue lace blouse and pleated wide-leg trousers from the British designer's spring/summer 2020 collection. Her hair pulled up shows off her Bryony Raymond Confetti Plume earrings perfectly. Follow Alex on Instagram. Alexandria Dale is the Digital Fashion Writer at Cosmopolitan UK. Covering everything from the celebrity style moments worth knowing about to the latest fashion news, there's nothing she loves more than finding a high street dupe of a must-have designer item. As well as discovering new brands, she's passionate about sustainable fashion and establishing the trends that are actually worth investing in. Having worked in fashion journalism for six years, she has experience at both digital and print publications including Glamour and Ok!
Otago Daily Times
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Otago Daily Times
'The first time I had a firearm pointed at me was when I was 14'
By Eva Kershaw, for Frank Film Jacob Bryant is drawn to danger. 'I think you're born with it,' says the intrepid cinematographer, renowned for his work in some of the world's most volatile environments. Bryant grew up causing trouble in Le Bons Bay, Banks Peninsula, shooting possums and rolling cars in the surrounding hills. 'The first time I had a firearm pointed at me was when I was 14-years-old,' says Bryant, 'so suddenly, you're in Kabul and you've got someone coming up with an AK47 and putting it through the car window... I was able to deal with it more rationally, I think.' 'I always knew that if he survived, he'd be great,' his mother, Louise McKay, tells Frank Film. And he is great. Having filmed in Iraq, Sudan, Zimbabwe, Afghanistan and beyond, Bryant's work with leading documentary makers has been nominated for multiple screen awards. Bryant attributes his success to skills he wasn't taught at school. Rather, it seems the kids who cannot sit still in a classroom are often perfect for the jobs that rely on instinct more than instruction. At a young age, Bryant inherited his father's '22 gauge rifle. 'I could only carry 2 or 3 possums at a time because I was so little,' says Bryant, 'but that physicality - running around these hills, climbing, walking, building things - that stuck with me my whole life.' Sitting still was (and continues to be) almost impossible for Bryant. He struggled with academics, and his tertiary education ended after his first year of highschool. 'It was deeply unpleasant - the idea of just sitting in one place,' he says. 'I was really driven to do as much as I could in my life, and school really got in the way of that.' By the age of 18, Bryant had written off eight cars, was barred from every pub on Banks Peninsula, and had been arrested. 'I had such a reputation. For being a fuckwit actually,' he says. But as Bryant's mother puts it, whilst he had a knack for causing trouble, he was always polite. Bryant realised while sitting in the holding cells of the Christchurch Central Police Station at the age of eighteen that it was not his place. 'If this was my future, this was absolutely not who I was,' he recalls thinking. Bryant moved to London in his early 20s, and bought a Super 8 camera from Portobello Market. From there, he forged a career in cinematography, working on stories for the BBC, CNN, TWI and Insight during his first three years of work. 'That that's all I ever wanted to do,' says Bryant. 'To shoot pictures and be able to show the world – the world that I was experiencing – to other people.' 'He certainly has an eye for beauty,' says McKay. 'He has empathy for people that he feels are being treated wrongly.' Countless times, across three decades, Bryant has visisted the world's trouble-spots and put himself at risk to tell the stories of others. The most notable occasion, perhaps, was in 2015. Māori Television was pursuing a story on the Israeli blockade on Gaza. A flotilla of vessels was trying the break through the blockade, and Bryant was employed as the cameraman. 'There were definitely risks attached to that,' says Bryant. He had heard of instances where Israeli military had boarded flotilla vessels and shot several activists onboard. 'We were gonna have to do some pretty drastic things to get those pictures off [the boat].' -Frank: Stories from the South episode three
NZ Herald
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- NZ Herald
Frank – Stories from the South: Jacob Bryant, a polite menace
'I always knew that if he survived, he'd be great,' his mother Louise McKay tells Frank Film. And he is great. Having filmed in Iraq, Sudan, Zimbabwe, Afghanistan and beyond, Bryant's work with leading documentary makers has been nominated for multiple screen awards. Bryant attributes his success to skills he wasn't taught at school. Rather, it seems the kids who cannot sit still in a classroom are often perfect for the jobs that rely on instinct more than instruction. At a young age, Bryant inherited his father's .22-gauge rifle. 'I could only carry two or three possums at a time because I was so little,' says Bryant, 'but that physicality – running around these hills, climbing, walking, building things – that stuck with me my whole life.' Sitting still was (and continues to be) almost impossible for Bryant. He struggled with academics and his secondary education ended after his first year of high school. 'It was deeply unpleasant – the idea of just sitting in one place,' he says. 'I was really driven to do as much as I could in my life, and school really got in the way of that.' By the age of 18, Bryant had written off eight cars, was barred from every pub on Banks Peninsula and had been arrested. 'I had such a reputation. For being a f***wit actually,' he says. But as Bryant's mother puts it, while he had a knack for causing trouble, he was always polite. Bryant realised while sitting in the holding cells of the Christchurch Central Police Station at the age of 18 that it was not his place. 'If this was my future, this was absolutely not who I was,' he recalls thinking. Bryant moved to London in his early 20s and bought a Super 8 camera from Portobello Market. From there, he forged a career in cinematography, working on stories for the BBC, CNN, TWI and Insight during his first three years of work. 'That's all I ever wanted to do,' says Bryant. 'To shoot pictures and be able to show the world – the world that I was experiencing – to other people.' 'He certainly has an eye for beauty,' says McKay. 'He has empathy for people that he feels are being treated wrongly.' Countless times, across three decades, Bryant has visited the world's trouble spots and put himself at risk to tell the stories of others. The most notable occasion, perhaps, was in 2015. Māori Television was pursuing a story on the Israeli blockade of Gaza. A flotilla of vessels was trying to break through the blockade and Bryant was employed as the cameraman. 'There were definitely risks attached to that,' says Bryant. He had heard of instances where Israeli military had boarded flotilla vessels and shot several activists on board. 'We were gonna have to do some pretty drastic things to get those pictures off [the boat].' In Frank – Stories from the South episode three, Bryant divulges how he smuggled his SD card off the boat, into an Israeli prison, and back out again, for the world to see the footage.
Yahoo
22-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
OPINION - The London Question: Are rampaging influencers ruining life for the rest of us?
Influencers, already everywhere in London anyway, are growing more brazen by the day. What was once a small coterie who haunted restaurants like Sexy Fish in Mayfair has grown into a mass of aspiring social media messiahs willing to go to great lengths for the perfect snap. They pose on people's doorsteps, disturb restaurant diners and have a penchant for filming content in busy Tube stations, leaving the rest of us squinting in the glare of their ring lights. Notting Hill is famous for its rows of rainbow coloured houses. For passers-by, they're a joy to behold. For residents, they've become a nightmare to live in. 'I'm being driven literally mad,' says Tara, whose once quiet, pastel-hued street has become a hotbed of activity. Her house is baby pink and a favourite backdrop for influencer's photo shoots. 'It can be pouring with rain, it can be snowing, it can be a wind tunnel, and they're still coming. They'll take their coats off in the middle of the rain and stand on my steps, taking turns to photograph each other,' she says. Tara's street is named in a number of TikTok videos about 'where to find colourful houses' in Notting Hill, which has led to the influx of influencers. 'Last year it was bad, and this year so far it's been impossible,' she says. Although the street is near the bustling Portobello Market, it used to be 'incredibly peaceful' and had very low footfall. It's not just that the influencers take pictures of each other. Tara is an artist and spends all day weaving tapestries in her living room. Anyone who looks through the window can see her surrounded by tendrils of wire and thread. Many cannot resist taking a snap of the artist at work, no doubt thinking it will be a perfect, authentic snapshot for their Instagram grid. 'Sometimes I've turned around and I've had maybe 15 people opposite, just looking at me and taking photographs of me working.' While taking a photo of someone through their window without their consent could be deemed an invasion of privacy, Tara's complaints to the council and the police have been met with a shrug. Around 20 times a day, she has to go outside and ask people to stop. 'On the whole they're polite, but sometimes they're really foul and tell me to f*** off.' What's incredible is the sense of entitlement — it's just massively invasive Tara, Notting Hill resident There's the noise, too. 'It's constant,' sighs Tara. 'I like to work in quiet, and hearing people talking outside my door all day drives me mad. I'm thinking of moving — that's how maddening it is.' Tourists looking for photo ops in the area are nothing new: thousands flock to Portobello every weekend, posing outside the Travel Bookshop which featured in the film Notting Hill. But Tara says influencers are far more bold: 'What's incredible is the sense of entitlement — it's just massively invasive.' This is happening across Notting Hill. One local took to documenting the influencers who ran rampant on his street on TikTok. The videos show people lying across front steps, spraying red flares and letting go of bunches of balloons for the perfect snap. Residents who live in any of the brightly coloured houses in the area will often open their doors to find an influencer or three posing on their front steps. Peter Lee, a pensioner who lives in a distinctive pink house, said influencers dancing on his steps in high heels caused £2,000 worth of damage to the tiles. Yet the 77-year-old views the situation with surprising equanimity: 'That was obviously frustrating, but really I find it all quite amusing.' He was less amused when a professional camera crew showed up unannounced and began to photograph a sportswear clad woman as she swung from his railings. When he went outside to take a video, the crew asked him to stop filming as it was 'distracting' for the model. 'It's my house!' Lee told them. The model turned out to be former Made in Chelsea star Binky Felstead. Anywhere beautiful seems to get overrun by the Instagram crew. Greenwich Park is famous for its cherry blossom trees, which bloom with candy pink flowers every April. Nowadays, you can barely see them for the hundreds of people who are using them as a backdrop for their content creation. There's no point trying to go for a walk: all the pathways are blocked by tripods. 'It's a shame locals don't get to enjoy the short time these beautiful trees are so picturesque,' said one on a Greenwich residents' Facebook group. Others have seen influencers shaking the branches so that they can get the perfect action shot of blossoms raining down around them. 'It's terrible. They've really damaged the branches. Some are hanging off having been snapped,' added another. Meanwhile, restaurants have become overrun by the tyranny of the phone-eats-first types. It's one thing to take a sneaky snap of your meal when it arrives, but influencers often pitch up with a full ring light and tripod or repeatedly use the flash on their phones, which is particularly galling in any dimly lit dining room. Some restaurants try to discourage diners from using their phones. 'They are the barrier to conviviality,' St John founder Fergus Henderson once told the Standard. 'Your phone is not your tool for eating, it should not be on the table with your knife, fork, glass and bread.' The Clerkenwell restaurant has a sign outside its dining room asking patrons not to use their phones. 'It's very intrusive when you come for dinner and you see everyone on their phones. If you want to be on your phone, stay at home,' says Martin Kuczmarski, owner of The Dover in Mayfair. The sultry New York-style Italian restaurant has been one of the hottest tables in town since it opened last year, and many social media mavens have been desperate to get through the door. 'I've been approached directly by people who say, 'I'm an influencer, I have 1.5 million followers, can I come for dinner — table for four — in return for one post?'' says Kuczmarski. He always turns them down, because he would not want to create a 'fake image' of The Dover, nor does he think it is fair on paying guests, who then have to put up with the endless photo taking. 'I think too many restaurants in London are using these techniques,' he adds. Is there no peace in this world any more? Not even the London Underground is safe. I saw a TikTok of an influencer trying to take an 'aesthetic video' at a Tube station, death-staring at any commuter who dared walk in front of the shot. She was at Oxford Circus, one of the busiest stations in London. Perhaps it was rage bait. Consider me baited. This is the fresh hell we live in: an expectation that people should happily let some random person's content creation dictate their lives, even if only for a few seconds. I miss the days when people had a little shame.
