April Playlist

Are We Tired of the Creative Director Carousel?

Is anyone else completely exhausted by the revolving door of creative directors at high-fashion houses? At this point, the conversation feels like it's been dissected a million times—especially as a college student studying fashion. But with Glenn Martens heading to Dior, Demna on his way to Gucci, and Jonathan Anderson exiting Loewe, it’s impossible to ignore the industry’s relentless habit of quickly cycling through creative leads.

At its core, I get it. These changes aren’t happening in a vacuum. Gucci’s sales plummeted by billions under Sabato De Sarno. Luxury spending in key markets is shrinking. Brands are desperate to stay culturally relevant, to spark excitement, to chase the next viral moment. So, of course, Gucci is betting on one of the most talked-about designers in the industry (for better or worse) to reclaim its status.

But let’s be real—this constant game of musical chairs is exhausting. I would even go as far to say it’s actively contributing to consumer fatigue and the rapid acceleration of the fashion cycle.

For years, the industry has debated its impact on the environment and the unsustainable pace of trends. Social media, fast fashion, and Gen Z are always the easy scapegoats. But why aren’t we talking more about luxury fashion’s role in all of this? When high-end brands treat creative direction like a short-term marketing strategy, what does that mean for fashion’s future?

karl lagerfeld at chanel, image courtesy of time magazine

We’re no longer seeing the kind of long-term creative leadership that defined fashion’s most iconic eras. Designers like Tom Ford at Gucci or Karl Lagerfeld at Chanel had the privilege of time—years, even decades—to build a legacy. Today, creative directors are expected to leave their mark in just two or three years instead of 10. It’s no surprise that designers like Demna are radically rewriting house codes—because they’ve been shown they must in order to be deemed “successful”. They know they’re disposable, so they might as well make an impact while they can.

Take Balenciaga, for example. Its identity today is nearly unrecognizable from a decade ago, with only the faintest trace of its original house codes. And it’s not the only brand experiencing this. Every few years, consumers are expected to embrace a completely new version of a luxury house, which, in turn, fuels an endless cycle of reinvention which contrary to belief reaches a limit.

It's overwhelming. The constant turnover makes it harder to see exciting creative growth that is true to the brand, and the rapid shifts in creative direction only accelerate the already exhausting trend cycle. At some point, the industry will have to ask itself—are these quick-fix creative appointments really worth it, or are they just another symptom of fashion’s growing identity crisis?

Experimental Filmmaker Alice Wang’s New Project Explores Freedom and Fear

On a recent visit to the International Studio & Curatorial Program—one of the largest artist residency programs in the city—I became mesmerized by Alice Wang’s work. Wang is a Canadian sculptor and experimental filmmaker who is currently completing a residency at ISCP. I was lucky enough to meet her, visit her studio, and attend a screening of her most recent film project, Pyramids and Parabolas III (2024).

I was deeply struck by this film. Wang shot the entire project on 60mm film across Utah, New Mexico, Arizona, Iceland, and the Arctic, where she traveled solo. The visuals were breathtaking scenes that felt both distant and familiar. Alongside these visuals, Wang narrated her own writing in a voice-over and carefully selected sounds and music reminiscent of a rave. Her writing was phenomenal—the perfect balance between poetry and prose.

The film grapples with the limitations of the human experience, both physical and psychological. Wang masterfully combines all elements of the film to evoke a sense of fear while simultaneously conveying serenity, freedom, and calmness. What are the limits of our bodies? Wang approaches this question from a deeply personal angle—hence the solo travel, rave music, and the implied presence of drugs. Yet, I found it so powerful that a film so intimately tied to the creator’s experience could hold meaning that transcended her own. Limits, freedom, and life itself are subjects we all contemplate. Sometimes, the more personal art is, the more universally resonant it becomes.

I highly recommend watching Pyramids and Parabolas III and exploring Alice Wang’s other work.

March Playlist

New York Restaurant Spotlight: Ella Funt

While this unassuming East Village spot has been open for some time now, Ella Funt was just recently put on my radar. Located on East 4th Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenue, the exterior of this neo-French restaurant tends to blend in with the surrounding area. In fact, I probably walked past this restaurant a million times without noticing. But that’s the beauty of it. In my experience, the best restaurants (especially in big cities like New York) are those that lack exterior awe but inside hold the perfect balance between culinary excellence and a vibey atmosphere. Ella Funt was just that.

I was able to secure an 8:30pm Saturday reservation the same week – a win in New York. As soon as we entered, we were met with excellent service. The restaurant interior was dark and sexy but not trying too hard to be something it’s not. To start, we ordered martinis – vodka, dry, with a twist. Excellent. They were perfectly smooth. I have to say I am pretty particular about my martinis and Ella Funt definitely exceeded my expectations.

To eat we shared the beef tartare with a side of house-made focaccia, the ceviche, the octopus, and the miso cod. All were excellent. The cod melted in your mouth and was the perfect balance between savory and sweet. The ceviche and octopus were also big winners and complemented each other in a great way. While the steak tartare was great, I would suggest skipping and getting the burger instead (I’ve heard from a trusted source that it is one of the best burgers in the city).

miso cod with shiitake mushrooms and spinach

Beyond the food, the atmosphere remained lively yet intimate throughout the night—low-lit, buzzing, and effortlessly cool without feeling overly curated. The service was attentive but never intrusive, adding to the seamless experience. When we left at around 10pm, the bar was filled with young people getting their nights started.

Ella Funt feels like one of those rare gems in New York—understated yet exceptional, a place that doesn’t scream for attention but earns it with every bite and sip. It’s the kind of spot you’ll want to gatekeep but can’t help raving about.

Successful Simplicity at the Opening of Tena Saw: Sirens

Tucked away on the border of the East Village and the Lower East Side, OSMOS is an unassuming and intimate gallery space. This Thursday however, the gallery was packed with locals for the opening of Tena Saw’s solo exhibition titled Sirens. Honestly, I was completely unfamiliar with the artist, the gallery too, but left wanting more – a feeling I haven’t encountered in a while.

Saw primarily works with ceramics and sculpture, yet Sirens showcased a departure from that medium, focusing instead on paintings and prints, with just one sculptural piece anchoring the space. I found myself drawn to a particular series of abstract spray-painted works (pictured above). I’ve always favored abstraction, but there’s a fine line between compelling and overwhelming. Too often, abstract work can feel chaotic, even overstimulating. Saw, however, resists that temptation. Her pieces strip away excess, allowing color and composition to be the priority.   

Visually, the work was beautiful—but so was everything else in the show. What set these pieces apart, at least for me, was their ability to evoke so much with so little (if you can’t already tell based off last week’s entry…I appreciate minimalism). And these pieces, though smaller in scale compared to others in the show, felt like they contained so much. There was a particular sense of intimacy to them.

Mark Rothko; No. 2, 1962, Oil on Canvas.

What struck me most was the emotional weight these works carried. It reminded me of the first time I saw a Mark Rothko painting—I was met with unexplainable emotion. It’s the lack of familiarity—no figures, no explanation, not even expression through process like Jackson Pollock’s work—that captivates me.

There’s something powerful about work that evokes such a visceral response without demanding it. I’m filled with curiosity yet appreciated the process of making my own individual meaning out of these pieces. It has been a while since I left a gallery opening truly impacted by the work on display—props to Tena Saw and OSMOS.

The exhibition is on display from now until March 15th. Learn more about the artist at https://www.tenasawceramics.com.

Paris Couture Week Shows: Harmony Between Place and Product

In an era where "more is more" defines fashion show production, this year’s Paris Couture Week was a refreshing change to say the least. In the oversaturated fashion industry, brands have become trapped in a cycle of constantly trying to outdo themselves—and each other—with every show. And frankly, it’s exhausting. There’s only so much drama, spectacle, and shock value I can take per season. The relentless pursuit of virality has become transparent and predictable, even cliché.

Feeling this general disinterest in overly theatrical shows, Paris Couture Week felt like a necessary breath of fresh air. These shows were stripped down, intentional, and refocused on what truly matters—beautiful clothing. While the success of each designer’s collection is a discussion of its own, something special is happening here: couture houses seem to be refocusing on their purpose, bringing the craftsmanship and artistry of the garments back to center stage. And, importantly, the product (if you can even really call couture “product”) is working harmoniously with the place, the show setting.

Daniel Roseberry’s collection for Schiaparelli was staged in the beautiful Petit Palais ballroom, adorned in classic Parisian molding. Roseberry focused his designs on the idea of modernity, exploring the interplay between old and new. The collection was spectacular and extravagant—clearly couture. But the show? Simple. There were no theatrics, it was all about the clothing. And the setting worked perfectly. How better to explore the cycle of old becoming new again than by placing your new designs in an early 20th century building. Pure thematic harmony. And of course, the aesthetics complimented each other perfectly. The clothing did not have to compete with the setting. Love.

Christian Dior Couture by Maria Grazia Chiuri

Dior, on the other hand, utilized place as a pop of color in the background of what was a very neutral toned collection. Using fairytales as her inspiration, Maria Grazia Chiuri presented a Dior couture collection that was playfully stunning. I’m pleasantly pleased by this drama-free production, considering a fairytale theme is a one-way ticket to an over-the-top, McQueen-esque show. Instead, the colorful artwork by Rithika Merchant created the perfect atmosphere of fantasy. The collection looks almost immersed in the art, which is amazing on so many levels but worked to reinforce a theme of dream and fairytale.

I could keep detailing the overwhelming success of this couture week’s shows, but I think you get the point. These shows were about the clothing, yet simultaneously used venues to subtly support their collections. There was no extra fuss. I appreciated that. The question, however, is will these refocused show productions continue during the Fall/Winter 26 season? Or maybe these stripped-down productions have something to do with the very fact that it is couture week…