Beauty seeks new master builder. Leonard A. Lauder, the Mozart of mascara and the Picasso of fragrance, passed away on Saturday at the venerable age of 92.
During his career, he shaped Estée Lauder Companies Inc. like a perfect anti-ageing cream: with passion, precision and a good dose of the scent of victory.
Thanks to him, the small family business has become a $15.61 billion empire by 2024. Yes, you read that right: billions… in lipsticks, creams, serums and promises of eternal radiance.
In June 1995, five months before the IPO, he declared with a seriousness worthy of a long-lasting foundation: ‘We are going to become the number one supplier of top-of-the-range cosmetics in the world.’ He wasn’t bluffing.
FM
David Hockney is exhibiting at the Fondation Louis Vuitton, and it must be said that everything is there: the large formats, the explosive colors, the small, very precisely calibrated dose of non-subversion, and above all, meticulous staging. But what do we really see? Hockney, certainly, but also a lot of Vuitton.
In a valley suspended out of time, nestled in the secret embrace of the Alps, lived an old jeweler named Silas. He wasn’t just a master of gems; it was said he listened to stones as others listened to the stars, and that gold spoke to him in dreams. He never crafted the same piece of jewelry twice, for each was born from a unique silence, a breath from the deep world, dictated by the sigh of metals and the buried song of crystals.
In the traveling soul of Giambattista Valli, Marrakech was no longer just a destination, but a haunting presence, an oriental melody that vibrated deep within his being. Like a collector of fleeting impressions, he constantly went to breathe the air of its medinas, where the echo of merchants mingled with the intoxicating scents of spices. The secret gardens, edged with exuberant bougainvillea, and the flower stalls, opulent like precious silks, were no longer simple fleeting visions; they had inscribed themselves, with the delicacy of a dream’s imprint, at the very heart of his moodboard, and even to the reins of his marketing inspiration.
Designer fragrances reign supreme over the most glamorous category in the beauty industry. So why on earth aren’t more designers cashing in? Perhaps they’re too busy agonizing over the perfect shade of beige for next season’s collection.
It’s a piece that doesn’t go unnoticed, and the bomber imagined by Dgena.fr and worn by artist Taic has literally gone around the world. An unexpected fusion of street and couture savoir-faire, this exceptional garment redefines the contours of clothing as a medium of expression for the French music scene.
The story of the Beall family, a true embodiment of the American dream built on resilience and entrepreneurship, began in 1915. That year, Robert Beall, a humble cotton farmer from Georgia, saw his crops devastated by a boll weevil infestation. Rather than give in to despair, he made a bold decision: to leave his homeland and seek new opportunities in Florida.
In the late 1990s, at just 18 years old, Gisele Bündchen was invited to walk in a major British fashion house’s spring-summer 1998 show — her very first international runway appearance. But an unexpected challenge arose: she was informed she would have to walk the runway topless.
Maria Grazia Chiuri, high priestess of maximal minimalism, has decided to play on home turf for her cruise collection. Ten years after making Rome vibrate with her cell phone, she returns with “Mirabilia Romae.” Rome, an open city, or how to try to surpass a decade-old moment of glory in a city that has seen Julius Caesar, Fellini, and the scooter from Roman Holiday.
It was Monday, that sacred day when millionaires get bored and mistresses get busy. Louis Vuitton, always eager to fill that existential void between a caviar massage and a scheduled divorce, unveiled his latest haute joaillerie collection at the Château de Bellver, a gothic setting perfectly suited to the egos of his guests.
Birkenstock 1774 and Maharishi have joined forces, and your feet will never be the same.
There was a time when influence rhymed with inspiration. Today, with female influencers, it rhymes above all with manipulation, scandal and ethics on sale. For behind the perfectly filtered stories and sponsored selfies lies a world where morality seems to have long since taken a trip to the Gobi Desert.
Dior announced Wednesday that it has officially been cleared of an Italian investigation into its supply chain. The Italian Competition Authority has granted the house a certificate of good ethical conduct, and Dior is delighted with what it calls a “positive conclusion,” which, in luxury communications terms, means “we had nothing to do with it.”
Last year, the Chanel bulldozer, which had previously been running at full speed like a red carpet catwalk, suddenly stalled. Revenues were down for the first time since the covid, and profits plunged by 30%. The culprit? The Chinese purse, suddenly less enthusiastic about the idea of spending a minimum wage on a handbag.
The luxury sector is going through an unprecedented period of turbulence. Long a symbol of excellence, abundance and aspiration, it is now undergoing a tangible erosion, illustrated by the upheaval of historic department stores. In the United States, Saks Global has just announced the elimination of 500 to 600 brands from its portfolio – a strong gesture that reflects a brutal readjustment in the face of a reality that is less golden than it used to be.
British fashion house Burberry is responding to the current challenges with an ambitious new savings plan, which could lead to the loss of 20% of its workforce by 2027. The stated aim is to reduce sales to £3 billion, with the full support of creative director Daniel Lee.
Time stood still in Cannes when, during the spring bloom of 2003, a famous singer delicately let her purple silk stole fall down her forearms on the esplanade of the Palais des Congrès. The day after her ‘Golden Ambition’ tour. The ‘doctrine of the Diva’ has been repeated on numerous occasions since, notably the previous year, when a certain Bella, bust unveiled in a chiffon creation on the red carpet, caused a sensation. A way of honouring the female figure, or an offence against decency, depending on your point of view, but the Cannes Film Festival has just put an end to it.
It’s where sacred leather sleeps on blessed shelves, and bags whisper for moccasins to meditate on. It’s on a cobbled street, of course, because tarmac is too vulgar for fashion mysticism, and with an air of mystery before a heavy wooden porte cochere that opens like a dramatic period film, here is the candlelit concept store lining the golden catacombs of style: the Palazzo Settimanni, the chic mausoleum of Gucci’s heritage.