SERENISSIMA, SUNDAY NOTES

 

Letter left inside a jacket pocket, never mailed

Venice, early days of June 

There are places you visit, and others you haunt. Venice, I fear, has reversed the roles. 

I wandered in wearing silence, left with something less intact. The city is a costume no one dares remove. Even the sky feels baroque, draped in pearl-grey thoughts, every hour a different shade of rehearsal. Theatrical. 

Yes, she is beautiful. But not kindly. She keeps too many mirrors. 

I thought of Marchesa Casati often, how she once walked these stones in peacocks and sleep-laced jewels, shoulders draped in dusk and leopards, gliding through shadows like myth turned flesh, determined to make her life a work of art. She wanted her life to outlive her. Perhaps it has. Now the pigeons circle where her gaze once landed. The ghosts applaud her, still. They remember. 

A GESTURE IN DUCHESSE

    ©Carven

A clean cut, precisely weighted. 

This sleeveless top in structured black duchesse by Carven balances volume and line. Light padding gives quiet architecture to the silhouette. A square neckline frames the collarbone; the back opens into a deep fold, interrupted by a suspended thread of mock pearls. 

MAN OF THE YEAR

 

                                                                                                                                                                                  performed by Lorde

                                                                                                                                                                                 ________________

"You met me at a really strange time in my life  

Take my knife and I cut the cord 

My babe can't believe I've become someone else 

Someone more like myself"

A FOUND BEAUTY

    ©Lauralai Wilson Wolf

Two silver arcs, barely touching. From their meeting point, a shard of clarity descends, neither ornament nor excess, but presence distilled. Discovered on the page of jewellery artist Lauralai Wilson, these earrings suspend time in their making. Unlabeled, but unmistakable: likely silver and quartz, materials chosen not for opulence, but for their resonance. A fragment of light. A trace of intention. A beauty not declared, only held.

A STUDY IN QUIET FORM

    original images courtesy of ©Heirlome

Pale light descends through a tall window. In the interval before day declares itself, fabric absorbs stillness, carrying the mood of rooms seldom entered. Heirlome Winter 2025 inhabits this liminal cadence, not a season, but a sensation suspended between memory and invention. Garments are composed like quiet architecture. 

Long coats stretch across the silhouette with a deliberateness that resists haste. Lapels drift open like parentheses. There is no urgency in these lines, only the calm of things that have considered their purpose. Weight is employed sparingly, where presence is required; elsewhere, the collection yields to air.