Almost a year and a half after the COVID-19 pandemic swept through Europe (in the middle of the Fall 2020 ready-to-wear shows, no less), the Fall 2021 couture presentations are underway in Paris with a return to in-person fashion shows — and real-life OOTDs that do not include sweatsuits. The schedule is packed with exciting live presentations, from Pieter Mulier’s debut at the Maison Alaïa yesterday and Sacai’s Chitose Abe’s guest collection for Gaultier to Pyer Moss’s first haute couture collection on July 8, but we’re *almost* more jazzed about the return of the fashion show that happens off the runway. Here, we round up the eye-catching Paris street style 2021 looks from the concrete catwalk outside the Fall 2021 couture shows. Outfit inspiration, right this way.
If you were ever in any doubt about the resilience of capital-F Fashion, the return of in-person haute couture shows this week proves that people are ready to get dressed up again. In addition to another newsworthy debut coming on Thursday with Pyer Moss’s Kerby Jean-Raymond joining the couture calendar, the inaugural collection by Pieter Mulier for the Maison Alaïa was one of the most greatly anticipated by industry insiders and devotees of Azzedine Alaïa’s designs.
Alaïa, who passed away in 2017, has a legacy of transforming the codes of couture, making it modern, sexy and often quite minimalistic. A favourite of supermodels throughout the decades, the creative was known for using innovative materials in his primarily body-con looks — which were greatly informed by his training as a sculptor — as well as “keying” patterns into fabrics rather than using excessive embellishment.
With such prestige to measure against, Pieter Mulier took up the task of creating the brand’s first collection in four years by respecting what came before but not relying on it for credibility. The result was fun and fresh, but not a complete departure from the iconic designs that for Clueless’s Cher Horowitz, were a name drop in and of themselves.
Mulier, who worked closely with Raf Simons in his roles at Jil Sander, Christian Dior and Calvin Klein, is at the helm of a fashion house for the first time. And for his introductory effort at Maison Alaïa, he included many of its namesake’s most classic silhouettes and styles — hooded dresses, bare midriffs, sweeping hemlines — featuring them in a range of fabrics from leather to denim. Standout shoes and bags were also offered up as a nod to the brand’s reputation for creating some of the most coveted accessories in the biz.
In addition to bringing a much-loved label back to eager customers longing for extravagant wardrobe updates, Mulier’s collection heralded an element of uniqueness that spoke to his reverence for Alaïa’s trailblazing ways: It featured both couture and ready-to-wear pieces. Here are our top ten looks!
American athlete Sha’Carri Richardson made headlines last month when she won the women’s 100-meter race at the U.S. Olympic track and field trials in Eugene, Oregon. The 21-year-old hugged her grandmother in the stands after finishing the race in just 10.86 seconds. This victory secured her a spot at this month’s Tokyo Olympics — that is, until the United States Anti-Doping Agency (USADA) announced she is suspended from attending the Olympics after testing positive for THC, a chemical found in cannabis.
Sha’Carri Richardson should be competing in the Tokyo Olympics.
— 🏳️🌈b mcarthur (he,him) (@bmcarthur17) July 5, 2021
Her month-long suspension started June 28, and though Richardson will technically be eligible to return to competition just before the track and field events begin on July 30, the positive THC test erased her Olympic trials performance victory.
Cannabis is on the World Anti-Doping Agency’s list of prohibited substances, which United States Olympic & Paralympic Committee (USOPC) and USADA adhere to. According to USADA, the substance is prohibited because it can be performance-enhancing, it can put athletes at risk due to “slower reaction times,” and it is “not consistent with the athlete as a role model for young people around the world.”
This decision has sparked an impassioned reaction on social media, with the trending hashtag #LetHerRun being used to show support for Richardson. Celebrities like Cardi B, Seth Rogen, and American Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez have spoken out about how this decision is unfair. “[USADA’s] decision lacks any scientific basis. It’s rooted solely in the systemic racism that’s long driven anti-marijuana laws,” said Ocasio-Cortez in a series of tweets.
We worked with @RepRaskin and the Subcommittee on Civil Rights & Civil Liberties to formally ask @USAntiDoping to end Sha'Carri Richardson's suspension.
Their decision lacks any scientific basis. It's rooted solely in the systemic racism that's long driven anti-marijuana laws. pic.twitter.com/F28c5ScI1D
— Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (@RepAOC) July 3, 2021
In Oregon, where Richardson tested positive, cannabis is legal. Many are calling the USADA rules outdated and rooted in inherently racist policies. The criminalization of cannabis was spearheaded by the U.S. government beginning in the 1970s and led to the heavy policing and subsequent incarceration of Black and Brown communities. While individual U.S. states are increasingly legalizing the substance, many are still in prison on marijuana charges and federally implemented anti-marijuana laws persist.
In an interview with NBC’s Today, Richardson explained that she took the substance to cope with “emotional panic” after learning about her biological mother’s passing. This situation comes just a few weeks after tennis star Naomi Osaka withdrawal from the French Open due to mental health struggles, and points to a general lack of mental health support for young athletes, specifically Black women.
So in the last few weeks: WTA said Osaka can’t take care of her mental health, gymnastics punished Simone for being too good, Sha’Carri banned for racist marijuana laws, five BW banned for natural testosterone levels. It’s almost as if there’s a concerted anti-BW effort here.
“Black women have no space to grieve. We have no space to cope. We have no space to make mistakes,” tweeted Dani Kwateng, executive editor at Teen Vogue. “She shouldn’t have to apologize.” In response to the suspension, Richardson tweeted solemnly, “I am human.”
“A positive test for any banned substance comes with consequences,” read a statement from the USOPC, in part. “We are dedicated to providing Sha’Carri the support services she needs during this difficult time.” But these words are not reflected in action. By banning Richardson without taking into account any nuance of the situation, or revisiting why these laws are in place, institutions of power such as the Olympics continue to perpetuate rules that disproportionately target marginalized communities.
Few things have the power to transport us to a specific moment in time the way that scent can. It’s no wonder, then, that smell is the sense that is most intimately tied to memory. Think back to the smell of your childhood home, your mom and your first love and be instantly brought face to face — for better or for worse — with that place, that time, that person. Sometimes, a scent is only for us to know. Other times, it’s a shared experience that becomes a character in the stories of countless others throughout the years. The latter category is home to the one-and-only Chanel No. 5.
This year, the iconic eau de parfum turns 100. Throughout its long life, it has rubbed elbows with some of the biggest names in pop culture (Marilyn Monroe, Catherine Deneuve and Andy Warhol, to name a few) but has also remained a mainstay on the makeup vanities of perfume lovers everywhere. It’s said that one bottle of Chanel No. 5 is sold every 30 seconds around the globe, after all. It’s a rare product that is the epitome of luxury yet accessible to and beloved by the masses — this is undoubtedly one of the secrets to its success.
Photography courtesy of Chanel
With a legacy so storied, where does the scent find itself in 2021? I confess that while I, of course, have always known Chanel No. 5, I hadn’t regularly worn it until recently. And as any fragrance lover knows, recognizing a scent and really wearing it — letting it bloom on your skin, follow you into the night and weave itself into the fabric of your day-to-day life — are two entirely different experiences. Today, when I spritz on No. 5, I’m wearing the signature scent of countless people in the past, and the scent of countless in the future, projecting myself onto its legacy and writing myself into its rich history.
The fragrance starts off with a big burst of soapy florals. I’m greeted by lily and ylang-ylang before the aldehydes — which give the scent the waxlike, metallic notes it’s famous for (if you know, you know) — come through, reminiscent of a bar of soap. The scent is immediately clean, but the base of sandalwood, amber, vanilla and patchouli gives it a skinlike warmth so it never becomes sterile. Unlike with many other, less sophisticated fragrances, I can’t pull No. 5’s notes out individually, listing them off one by one as they make themselves known. Instead, No. 5 hits my skin fully formed and forces me to take it as it is. As it wears and warms, the aldehydes remain the stars of the show, revealing themselves to be less synthetic, softer, gentler.
For a scent that was once described as “the scent of a woman,” No. 5 is certainly not overly feminine. If it were released today, it would, with tremendous ease, fit in with the genderless-fragrance launches that have become increasingly popular in the current beauty climate. Chanel No. 5 only smells feminine because for 100 years, it set the standard for women’s fragrances: We think it is because we’re told that it was. But it actually smells timeless, squeaky clean and bright — like freshly washed, still-warm-from-the-shower skin. And doesn’t everyone ultimately want to smell clean and like a warmer, more interesting version of themselves? Judging by the many genderless scents that have dropped within the past few years — each delivering a promise of cleanliness and freshness and of being more than a simple summation of its notes — the answer is a resounding yes.
Photography courtesy of Chanel
As is the case with any true icon, it has become hard to separate the facts from the myths within No. 5’s origin story. Make no mistake about it: That’s part of its charm. Though the scent is made up of floral notes, Gabrielle Chanel was allegedly adamant that No. 5 must smell “like a woman, not like a rose.” So how did it arrive at its now completely distinctive blend? It has long been rumoured that the high dose of aldehydes was accidental. The story is that perfumer Ernest Beaux created samples of many different versions of the fragrance to present to Gabrielle. In one, he mistakenly added a dose of aldehydes that was far greater than anything that would have been in a fragrance at that time. This blend, as fate would have it, was the one she fell in love with, and it went on to become Chanel No. 5. Was the remarkably high dose of aldehydes actually intentional? Maybe. But where’s the fun in that? That’s the thing about urban legends: When a tale is told over and over again, it becomes its own sort of truth.
To celebrate 100 years of Chanel No. 5, the brand has released a limited edition collection called Chanel Factory 5 — 17 everyday objects (like bath tablets packaged in a tea tin) that have been reused and given new life, the Chanel way. “By taking popular consumer items out of their context and dressing them up in the aesthetics of No. 5, we return to Chanel’s first creative gesture: that of transforming a functional object into a desirable luxury item,” explains Thomas du Pré de Saint Maur, Chanel’s Head of Global Creative Resources Fragrance and Beauty. “That’s what Chanel Factory 5 is all about: offering the experience of luxury in everyday life.”
Browse some of our favourites from the Chanel Factory 5 collection below.
This week’s fashion news is as Y2K as it gets. With the Tokyo Olympics less than three weeks away, Kim Kardashian announced that her intimates line Skims will be the official underwear provider for Team USA. Meanwhile, Gap is embracing an early 2000s aesthetic and re-releasing its vintage brown hoodie after it went viral on TikTok. Keep scrolling to see what else caught our attention.
Kim Kardashian’s Skims is the official underwear of the U.S. Olympic Team
Yes, you read that correctly — Kim K’s line Skims is designing all loungewear and undergarments for Team USA at the Tokyo Olympics. The announcement came from a series of tweets from the celeb who wrote, “When I received the call inviting Skims to be a part of @TeamUSA, every moment I’ve spent admiring the strength and energy of the Olympians from the sidelines came full circle.”
If you want to be part of the team, no tryouts are necessary. The capsule collection will be available on the Skims website starting July 12 and includes minimalist sports bras, leggings and boxer briefs, all embellished with the Team USA and Olympics logos.
After years of protests by animal rights groups, luxury outerwear brand Canada Goose has announced its plan to go fur-free by 2022. The brand will be taking a phased approach as they end the purchasing of all fur by the end of this year and stop all manufacturing with fur by 2022. “Our focus has always been on making products that deliver exceptional quality, protection from the elements, and perform the way consumers need them to; this decision transforms how we will continue to do just that,” said Dani Reiss, president and CEO of Canada Goose.
This news comes a year after Canada Goose’s 2020 announcement stating they’d no longer be buying new fur from trappers and would instead be using reclaimed and recycled fur already part of the supply chain. The Humane Society International told the BBC the updated decision was a “momentous step in the demise of cruel fur fashion.” People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) was equally thrilled as they’ve been petitioning, organizing demonstrations, and erecting billboards for Canada Goose to stop using fur since at least 2006.
Marc Jacob’s first collection since February 2020 was an ode to creativity
After a 16-month hiatus, Marc Jacobs is back for Fall 2021, and he brought the space age with him. In 69 unique looks, the designer wanted to explore the importance of creativity during troubling times. Not for the fashion faint of heart, Jacobs showcased oversized proportions in the form of floor-length sleeves and extreme puffer gowns. Twiggy-esque faux eyelashes, iridescent dresses and bold prints injected an extra dose of the 1960s as models stomped down the runway in sky-high Mary Jane platforms.
Vetements is launching a new brand and “secret project”
Despite not being on the Paris men’s fashion week schedule, Vetements is still making headlines. The luxury fashion house has revealed its latest undertaking, a “secret project” that is expected to come with the launch of a new gender-inclusive, menswear-inspired brand. “We’ve created the Gvasalia Family Foundation, and we’re starting with a new experimental laboratory, a multi-dimensional platform for young talent, which could one day replace traditional conglomerate structures by redefining co-working spaces and co-creating experiences,” Vetements CEO Guram Gvasalia told Vogue. Armed with a new Instagram account, expect the unexpected when both the brand and “secret project” are released on July 22.
Gap to re-release its iconic brown logo sweatshirt
Y2K fashion is back, and so is Gap’s classic brown logo hoodie. Weeks after the debut of their collaboration with Kanye West, the all-American retailer is looking to TikTok to keep the online momentum going. The vintage brown hoodie made famous by TikTok creator Barbara Kristoffersen spurred a social media storm back in January and the hashtag #gaphoodie has since racked up more has 5.8 million views. A rare find on resale sites, this summer Gap will give the people what they want and drop a limited-issue release of the iconic pullover for $69.95.
Content warning: This story discusses residential schools and violence against Indigenous people. Canada’s Residential School Survivors and Family Crisis Line is available 24 hours a day at 1-866-925-4419.
In light of the ongoing discoveries of Indigenous children’s unmarked graves in Canadian cities including Kamloops and Cranbrook, calls on social media to boycott Canada Day are growing. In the past month, hundreds of remains have been found on the grounds of former residential schools, where Indigenous children were sent between the 1870s and 1990s to be forcibly assimilated into colonial Canadian culture. Thousands of children are believed to have died in the residential school system.
To Indigenous communities, these discoveries are nothing new — there is an entire volume of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) dedicated to “Missing Children and Unmarked Burials.” But for many non-Indigenous people, these announcements have induced a reckoning of Canada’s dark history and ongoing violence against Indigenous communities. For this reason, many are choosing to don an orange shirt instead of red and white on Canada Day this year.
What does an orange shirt symbolize?
Orange Shirt Day is an annual commemoration carried out on September 30. It is held in remembrance of residential school victims and honours the healing of survivors and their families. The date was chosen for early fall because this is the time of year when children would be taken from their homes and forced into residential schools.
What does it mean to wear an orange shirt on Canada Day?
Wearing an orange shirt symbolizes solidarity with Indigenous communities who are currently grieving the loss of their children, says Danielle Morrison, an Anishinaabe lawyer from Treaty 3 territory. Morrison is also the owner of Clan Mother, a goods and apparel business, currently based in Winnipeg.
“I’m the daughter and the granddaughter of residential school survivors, and I can’t even begin to tell you how seen and heard I feel when I witness that show of support,” says Morrison. “Those orange shirts being worn or hung on the front steps of the homes in my neighbourhood, it tells me that I’m not alone in my grief and that I’m free of the burden of being denied truth after all these years.”
Wearing orange on Canada Day also represents a call to the Canadian government to implement all 94 calls to action from the TRC, which was released in 2015. Advocate Shayla Oulette Stonechild, a Métis and Nehiyaw Iskwew (Plains Cree Woman) from Muscowpetung First Nations, says it’s important that non-Indigenous people read and understand these calls to action. “Write your local MPs [and] MLAs to implement the 94 calls to action. The more public pressure, the more likely Canada will begin to take accountability,” she says.
— Ontario Native Women's Association (@_ONWA_) June 27, 2021
Stonechild is from the first generation in her family who didn’t have to attend a residential school and says the trauma inflicted by them is still felt in Indigenous bloodlines. “Wearing orange is one of the most accessible ways to show solidarity with Indigenous communities during this time of mourning, as we continue to unearth graves of Indigenous children,” she says. “It is showing that you support the lives of these children, you support our collective healing process and relationship building between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. It is not the only step that is needed though.”
Why are people calling to boycott Canada Day?
Canada Day falls after a month of painful consecutive discoveries of unmarked graves inflicting trauma on Indigenous communities across the country. Canada’s residential school system legacy lives on through its lingering impacts, and boycotting Canada Day is a stand of solidarity, says Morrison.
“I understand the difficulty that [people are] having with not celebrating Canada, given that Canada’s considered one of the best places in the world to live. But I think what Canadians misunderstand is that as Indigenous people, we were always and we continue to be sovereign nations. And that is what Canada tried to extinguish via the most inhumane tactic imaginable: they forcibly removed our most precious gifts, our children,” she says.
“All of that is nothing short of genocide, and the denial of genocide is, in fact, considered to be the final stage of genocide. So Canadians really need to ask themselves: is any of that worth celebrating? What we’re asking for is the time and space to grieve,” explains Morrison. “We’re asking for others to stand in solidarity with us, to hold space for us. Because we’re searching the earth and trying to make sense of so many lives that were lost.”
“Listen to many Indigenous voices. There are over 630 nations in Canada alone. We all come from diverse languages, nations and teachings,” says Stonechild, whose podcast and non-profit organization Matriarch Movement focuses on amplifying Indigenous women’s voices. “Wear orange to be in solidarity.”
Most importantly, educate yourself. “Be open to changing your perception, be open to healing your heart,” says Stonechild. “Reclaim what it means to be human in a society that is drastically losing their own humanity.”
When the world ground to a halt in the spring of 2020, writer, director and dramaturg David Bernstein was faced with a stark new reality: he was a theatre-maker in a world without any theatres.
As others in the theatre industry were contemplating virtual performances and digital media, Bernstein began to explore another of his longtime fascinations — scent. The resulting company, Jovian, is a scent art studio based in Toronto that produces what Bernstein describes as “psychoactive perfume for skin and space.” The small batch, hand-crafted scents are a mix of aromatherapy, traditional perfuming, and playful nods to new age philosophies and drug culture — Jovian offers scents in “uppers” and “downers” and employs an in-house astrologer, Jaime Wright, who helps dictate the formulas.
As a gay man, Bernstein has taken a queer approach to the heteronormative field of scent, an industry so gendered that it splits its offering in two straight across the gender binary; colognes for men, perfumes for women. Jovian’s all-gender scents are certainly not the first offerings to eschew the perfume binary, but they’re particularly innovative because they don’t just toss away the old binary labels for scents, but also the gendered associations with particular ingredients.
The decision to go all-gender was informed by Bernstein’s days selling perfume at a department store to support himself while he was a student at New York University’s TISCH School of the Arts. In that position, Bernstein says he was constantly met with customers’ deeply held beliefs about scent and gender. “It’s amazing, “ he says, “when you’ve worked as long as I have in perfume, people’s gender hang ups come right to the forefront.”
Customers, Bernstein says, would be intrigued by scents he’d introduce them to, but shoot them down because of their gender. “They’d say, ‘Oh, I love it, but is it too feminine?’ or ‘Is it too masculine?’”
“It doesn’t have genitals and it doesn’t have a socially defined gender performance,” he says in response to that line of thinking. “No, it’s not too feminine. It’s liquid.”
Photography by Jake Poloz
Around the same time, Bernstein discovered CB I Hate Perfume, a brand that takes inspiration for its scents from unusual sources that span from snow to dust to sushi. The boutique quickly became one of his favourite places in New York City and the brand’s philosophy eventually helped inform Bernstein’s own take on scent. When he started Jovian, Bernstein embraced a queer fluidity as he sourced ingredients, exploring how different ingredients mixed together to create an emotional state rather than the age-old perfume ideology of how they’d help the wearer attract suitors of the opposite gender. He also embraced his own mix of uncommon materials like fresh hops, porcini, ginger lily, and coffee.
The idea behind each Jovian scent is to transport the person who smells it, ultimately allowing it to change their state of mind. The approach is informed by Bernstein’s work in theatre as a “scent designer” — an artist who creates scents to be released into a theatre space in hopes of transporting the audience. If, for example, a scene is set in an orchard, a scent designer might create a mixture evoking trees and fruit that would be diffused during that moment in the play, kind of like an artistic take on smell-o-vision. The same method is occasionally taken with fashion, like when Alexander McQueen tapped Bernstein to create three custom scent effects for a dance-based presentation of its McQ wares at the New Museum.
As a queer creative and business person, Bernstein says he’s spent this Pride Month reflecting on who space is held for in the LGBTQ+ community — particularly those whose identities are afforded less privilege than his own as a gay white man. This year Pride Month also intersected with some deeply troubling events that have been on Bernstein’s mind, including the revelation of hundreds of unmarked graves at the sites of residential schools across the country. Beyond the human level, Bernstein says he’s been reflecting on being in a business that extracts natural materials from the land given Canada’s fraught relationship with land and its original caretakers.
“The oils have been sublimated from agricultural product to liquid extraction, the bottles have been made in a factory, and all have been shipped across borders and socioeconomic contexts,” Bernstein explains. “So, a lot of conceptually and ethically profound things have happened before I even blend the first drop of scent.”
About half of the essential oils he uses are sourced from India, which is currently dealing with a devastating surge of COVID-19. “My queer utopia of scent functions on labour from elsewhere — that’s something I’m staying mindful of,” he says, explaining he’s shared fundraising efforts from relief organizations in India on the Jovian Instagram and made donations on behalf of the company, but he’s looking to go beyond short-term, reactive responses. “To me, queering a particular discipline means, in part, trying to work from the collisions and tensions contained within it,” says Bernstein.
“I want to find ways of moving beyond my own visions, impulses and contexts as a ‘queer artist,’ and apply the same irreverent, subversive lens to queering the ethics of production.”
