Let’s play!

My fantasy summer is warm, bright, vibrant, and joyful, and it’s heavily influenced by the imagery I’ve collected over time. I seem to be drawn to sun-drenched photographs, wet hair, feet in the sand, colourful clothes, beautiful people with nowhere to be.

I wanted to look back at my archive and discover what my favourite images have in common, and what I’m actually responding to. What makes an image feel like summer? And, in a way, what makes an image feel lighter than ordinary life?

La Bomba

I’ve always adored Jacquemus, and among his endless unforgettable visuals, one short fashion film has stayed with me ever since I saw it: La Bomba (2018), directed by Gordon von Steiner. It feels like the perfect place to begin, because it immediately transports you, and it’s light. Much of that lightness comes from its use of the continuous, choreographed tracking shot, which seamlessly travels from one tableau to another, and instead of scenes building a plot, they behave like moving photographs. It’s an atmospheric fashion film: there are characters, yes, but there is no storyline. It’s meant to show you how their world feels like, and it feels exotic, glamorous, fun, and very upbeat. It’s perfectly summed up into the only line of dialogue: “La Bomba,” a sharp observation from the film’s only male character.

Give it a glimpse! It’s short, feel-good, and visually stunning:

Yellow And Turqoise

Simon Porte Jacquemus also has a very lovely habit of sharing bits of his mood boards. For his latest collection, Le Bonheur, he was inspired by this image below, which I loved and through which I discovered the photographer Dudi Hasson. What got me immediately, besides the yellow-orange and turquoise combination (!!), was the almost physical hit of summer it gives you by making you feel thirst. It gives your brain enough sensory cues to simulate the heat.

The colour combination I love so much actually does a lot of this work: yellow - sun, turquoise - water. It sounds simplistic, but remember that our brains like to think fast, forcing us to make (not always accurate!) rapid associations between cues and concepts. That’s why the best summer images are highly sensorial.

Thrill

Continuing the colour blocking and vibrancy I enjoyed so much in the previous image, I find myself admiring the work of French photographer Jean-Daniel Lorieux enormously. Sun-drenched visuals from the golden era of glossy editorials, some of these were shot in the 80s, and reach an incredible level of escapism. Beyond their extraordinary quality, the images radiate freedom, playfulness, adventure, joy, Caribbean dreams, all within incredible colour palettes.

Most interestingly, something about them feels particularly empowering. It could be the recurring theme of one woman surrounded by several men, or the sense of adventure, danger even - overall thrill-seeking roles that women rarely seem to play. On some level, they suggest: you could do this.

These images are strong also because the woman not only looked at, but she has agency within the fantasy. She’s experiencing something.

This is a good distinction between objectification and identification. It’s very interesting to keep in mind, and be intentional with, because any visual, editorial, or campaign, can depict a beautiful woman in a way that makes the viewer think I want to look at/like her, or it can make the viewer think I want to be her. These are very different psychological experiences, and I find myself way more responsive to the second.

A Different Kind Of Intimacy

My summer archive keeps finding ways to make a flat image feel physical.

The gentleness, the care, the sand and the caress, it’s the tactile details I’m drawn to.

Aesthetic Synchrony

Back to colour, I love a red mani-pedi. I came across this picture shared by photographer Carlijn Jacobs, simply captioned “Red nail at sunset.” I love being a girl, and I enjoy the feeling of excitement when my nails, outfit, or some tiny detail of what I’m wearing happens to match the surroundings, and the spontaneity of this discovery. I remember the joy I felt when my burgundy nails PERFECTLY matched the shade of Burgundy wine I was drinking. The man I was with seemed less enthusiastic when I shared this news. (Rude.)

Completely unrelated side note: here’s a shot from Tom Ford - the thirst sensation also repeats here, but she has a nice red pedicure and I love that she’s stepping on this man. Fun!

There’s a kind of aesthetic synchrony, a pleasure we get when suddenly elements seem like they belong together. Nails-wine-color: memory, or nails-sunset-color: memory, that gives us a little click of satisfaction, because our brains are little pattern recognising machines, and this is pure aesthetic pattern recognition happening in real time. Carlijn’s photograph is also such a small observation: red nail at sunset. That isn’t necessarily what’s so warm about it, the act of noticing is. And that is an incredibly important skill for day-to-day joy!

Spontaneity

Speaking of fun, I love a playful summer editorial, and I couldn’t miss Bruce Weber. His signature style is natural and spontaneous. His subjects are rarely posing, they often laugh, move, touch, look away. His Americana images are known for capturing very beautiful people, but what we usually get from him is sensuality in an unpolished way. More than anything, the spontaneity itself is very seductive.

Looking at his work, it makes me wonder whether it would make the same splash if it was communicated today. I doubt it, because the culture now tends to be very suspicious of effortless pleasure. It’s unusual seeing beautiful people having a good time without the image, campaign, or editorial needing to explain itself. Older visual culture seemed less embarrassed by aspirational desire. As much as we want to act like this is not the case (because it sounds crazy, because it is) there is a need now to apologise for beauty, wealth, leisure, travel, pleasure. Today, it feels wrong to say: Look how nice life can be.

Arthur Elgort’s style shares that spontaneity. His shots often feel candid and energetic, like Here Comes the Sun, for Vogue’s April 1999 issue. Sporty-fun, he captures Gisele Bündchen barefoot in the sand, smiling, in motion, wearing a red-and-pink outfit I love, styled by Grace Coddington. He captured another heatwave moment for Vogue’s April 1995 issue - Kate Moss grocery shopping in a bikini. Heels aside, it’s almost mundane, and very relatable (NB: I am not considering the “relatability police” when I use this word, or ever, actually). Few things are worse than putting that cover-up back on after a salty, SPF-covered beach day and having to go into that grocery store. You just want to wear bikinis everywhere. And a good summer photograph makes you feel that heat. It is, again, sensorial.

A Leisurely Life

I think with summer, generally, what we’re looking for is a sense of freedom, nowhere to be for a while, a leisurely life. And nobody captured an upscale leisurely life quite like Slim Aarons. He famously called his photography “attractive people doing attractive things in attractive places.” I especially love his iconic shots at Punta Tragara, Sunbathing in Capri (1974). Women soaking up the sun, with nowhere else to be - reading, sleeping, or casually walking around topless sipping a cocktail. There is something incredibly soothing about it, nobody is in a hurry. They feel luxurious because the real luxury is having time.

I also love his jump-into-the-sea photograph, the brightness, the blue, the sense of plunging in and escaping, detaching, the release. Jumping into water is an incredibly powerful visual, because it carries so many sensorial associations simultaneously. It makes you anticipate coolness, weightlessness, physical relief. It’s the feeling of summer away.

Postcards From Portofino

This is possibly my favourite editorial ever - Christy Turlington in Postcards from Portofino, photographed by Arthur Elgort for Vogue December 1992. I don’t even know where to begin. Firstly, she’s so beautiful, and the location is one very dear to me. She wanders, exploring, eating with locals, helping with food, stopping for a cat.

The beauty of it is that, while she is obviously stunning and perfectly polished, her glam doesn’t feel in-your-face. The styling is timeless and absolutely impeccable, and still it doesn’t distract from the place. This is a very rare and difficult balance to achieve, I find. And Christy deserves a lot of the credit for that. She seems genuinely joyful and grateful to be there, her attitude is calm and curious. She seems interested in the people and the surroundings, perfectly polished without a hint of feeling precious about it.

I love beauty, polish, glamour, beautiful clothes, beautiful places, I only dislike when these things become self-conscious displays. What I respond to is refinement coexisting with curiosity, warmth, humour, participation, and ease. In Portofino, Christy Turlington makes beauty seem more approachable than intimidating, because she is embodying a rare combination of extreme polish and apparent lack of self-consciousness. She’s looking outward.

You Can’t Compete With Someone That’s Having Fun

I am guilty of spending most of this work looking backwards at photography. But I don’t want the conclusion to be that everything was better before. I’m only nostalgic for a particular feeling, and luckily, some publications are still having fun.

As It Turns Out…

I’m not actually attracted to summer in a narrow sense, I’m attracted to a broader playfulness. There is something so appealing about visuals in which the rules of ordinary life seem temporarily suspended. I like images that don’t take themselves too seriously. There is sensuality, but also humour, there is beauty, but also absurdity, there is something always balancing out the authority of the photograph. My favourite images have a characteristic confidence, without the solemnity. I think that might be one of my main aesthetic preferences. Or maybe just one of my main preferences, generally speaking.

- Ana

PS. Behind the scenes of Helmut Newton’s iconic Riviera, is Helmut in heels.

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I want to see MORE of this!

A bit of context:

We’ve been experiencing a shift in consumerism from product to experience - more specifically, a preference for memory over ownership. I’m aware this is news to no-one, so I’ll keep it short:

Consumers are increasingly prioritising travel, events, and dining over physical goods. Why? There are several explanations: the social media effect (experiences are inherently more shareable), a generational shift (Gen Z, especially, wants to feel immersed in the narrative), and a saturation of products - a belief that we already have enough stuff. A belief I am not yet wise enough to share, unfortunately.

While these explanations can all be true at once, I think it could be even simpler than that: people just want to be interesting! We want something captivating to bring to the dinner table. We like telling a good story, and recommending new experiences. We like putting people on.

Why now, especially?

The biggest buzzword in luxury right now is taste. Everyone has their own definitions - what it is, how to develop it, whether it’s something you cultivate or simply arrive at. Regardless, what people want to signal right now is that they have taste - more specifically, niche taste.

I’m sorry, I know there’s a fatigue around the word taste, I wish I could’ve spared you. There’s also a fatigue around the word fatigue, by the way. We are generally very fatigued at the moment.

Because hospitality is basically the purest form of experience economy, luxury brands are expanding into hotels, cafés, beach clubs and restaurants. They use these as a tool to deepen engagement and build immersive worlds, ultimately forming complete brand ecosystems. It sounds compelling, but when are these meaningful, and not just temporarily staged aesthetics?

The summer beach club collaboration

This has become a category of its own, and the examples are endless.

Missoni Resort Clubs are an entire project, spanning luxury hotels from Sydney to Dubai to Mykonos and beyond. I’ll give it to them - it makes a lot of sense, because they are totally a summer vacation brand.

For the rest, I’m more sceptical of this “fashionisation” of perfectly good beach clubs. I’m not convinced it does much. Granted, I’m not looking at anyone’s conversion rates as I’m saying this - but surely it takes more than a branded umbrella, a Coca-Cola, and an Insta story to call it a true immersion in a brand’s universe. Right?

What is luxury immersion today?

Similar to taste (take a shot every time you read taste today), the word luxury is also starting to lose meaning. A lot of ‘luxury’ now is self-proclaimed - drifting away from actual quality and becoming more of a branding tool. But what does it take to actually deliver it? I believe that real luxury has a lot to do with the anticipation of needs.

Netnography - a long word for a simple idea - is the practice of understanding behaviour (and, indirectly, anticipating needs) through online activity. Zooming in on fashion and food, a netnographic reading reveals a clear overlap between fashion lovers and real foodies. The crossover is not random at all. Brands have been integrating food into campaigns and visual merchandising for a long time, usually with great engagement. The appetite for fashion-led culinary experiences is already there!

So how do you make that experience actually meaningful and luxurious? Beyond temporary takeovers, some brands opt for more permanent, elevated approaches. There are already some beloved examples: Ralph Lauren’s Parisian lunch spot Ralph’s, and Saint Laurent Sushi Park, also in Paris, among others.

But if the demand is there, why not push it further? Permanence, for some brands, may feel like an unnecessary commitment on the F&B front. But there’s an interesting solution for anyone in fashion wanting to play with their food.

The We Are Ona Proposition

We Are Ona is a culinary creative studio designing food centred experiences for its clients. They operate as a creative collective, bringing together chefs, sommeliers, baristas, waiters, alongside a wider network of artists, designers, and creatives. Each project is different and built with the right mix of talent, selected to translate each brand’s identity into a culinary celebration.

They are behind many iconic moments in the fashion industry, and you’ve probably seen their work without realising. If not, it’s definitely worth a look. They’ve been trusted by brands like Chanel, Valentino, Hermès, and Maison Alaïa, among others.

But if I had to mention one single moment they brought to life, I would like you to know that they were behind the wedding table of Simon Porte Jacquemus and Marco Maestri. To this day, my friends and I look at those images and think that was a good wedding.

But their events go beyond what’s on the table. They create environments for connection. In Vogue, Maria Geyman recalls arriving alone - “Fast forward a couple of hours, and I was on my fourth glass of wine, sharing a cigarette with a stranger (I haven’t smoked since my husband quit almost two years ago).” As Luca Pronzato, the founder, told Elle Decor: the crowd is as essential as the setting. People meet, connect, and some even end up building lives together after these dinners.

They have a very interesting and flexible business model: on one side, they create private, highly curated brand events; on the other, they host their own pop-up dinners around the world, where everyone is invited - you just have to buy a seat at the table! But I’m a fashion fan, and a bit greedy, so what feels even more exciting is the potential intersection of the two.

What if a fashion brand collaborated with We Are Ona on a public, week-long residency? Not a summer-long beach club, but a limited, intentional dining experience, where a self-selecting audience chooses to engage more seriously - real immersion.

I feel like there is so much space to play around with this! I’m especially thinking of fashion brands with strong, distinctive codes here. Brands with an ironic undertone. Playful, even slightly absurd. Matières Fécales, for instance. A fashion-led culinary experience with Fecal Matter? It sounds like such a conversation piece and, as my friend kindly pointed out, a rather lovely full-circle moment.

Editor’s note: I’m aware I’ve just used the words fashion, fecal matter and culinary experience in the same sentence. If you (rightly?) feel that I’ve lost it, I’m open to feedback.

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After this little episode, I feel like we need some fragrance.

Most fashion houses are associated with at least one scent. What I’d really love is to go to a dining experience built entirely around a perfume’s note profile! Imagine a light, citrus composition celebrated with a fresh, coastal desert menu - or a deep, leathery fragrance translated into a brooding setting and a smoky, spice-led dinner. The possibilities are endless here.

It feels like there’s a real community for this - so let’s have some fun with it, and see how far we can go.

- Ana

PS. While on the topic of food & beverage, I remembered Stanley Tucci’s lovely book, Taste: My Life Through Food. I remember him very elegantly making a slight passive aggressive comment (my favourite kind). After sharing how he makes his Negroni, he adds:

“There are those who consider serving this cocktail ‘straight up’ to be an act of spirituous heresy. But they needn’t get so upset. I never planned on inviting them to my home anyway.”

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“I was always a bit in love with her because I admire her sensibility, and her liberty”

Peter Lindbergh said about Franca Sozzani, “she is a free woman who can express herself, and let other people express themselves.”

Franca Sozzani held the position of editor-in-chief of Vogue Italia for 28 years, until she passed away in December 2016. Forbes called her the “queen of controversy.” During her time at the magazine, she sparked conversations with issues on domestic violence, environmental degradation, substance abuse and her famous July 2008 “All Black” issue. She believed fashion should comment on society and used editorials to provoke cultural debate.

Are we still fostering an environment where creative voices can express themselves freely, or have we gotten to a point where the fear surrounding cancel culture is killing a lot of valuable creativity?

“With each issue, I was prepared to be fired” Franca said in Franca: Chaos and Creation, a documentary created by her son, Francesco Carrozzini. She allowed ambiguity and seemed comfortable sitting with the tension her work provoked: was it critique, or was it exploitation? While Time Magazine observed that “rebellion had become Franca Sozzani’s calling card,” it’s worth noting that she wasn’t careless - she was deeply intentional. She risked splitting the room, unapologetically.

There is something to learn from the way she got ahead of uncomfortable conversations for fashion players.

In 2005, Franca Sozzani tackled plastic surgery in one of her most controversial editorials, “Makeover Madness,” shot by Steven Meisel. Instead of glamorising beauty procedures, the editorial staged the surgical process itself. Models appeared with post-operative bandages, creating an aesthetic that was deliberately unsettling. Some critics argued the editorial was disturbing and exploitative, while others saw it as a sharp cultural commentary. Why did it matter? In the mid-2000s, the issue anticipated conversations that became much more visible later, such as the normalisation of cosmetic procedures and beauty standards shaped by media imagery. She challenged the industry’s quiet complacency and proved that fashion - often dismissed as escapism - could also serve as a space for confronting uncomfortable truths.

A natural question follows: why did she believe fashion could carry these themes?

Perhaps because fashion, often written off as superficial, is in fact one of the clearest mirrors of culture. At its best, it carries enormous power for storytelling and commentary. And yet today, that potential often feels constrained. The combination of cancel culture and the relentless scrutiny of social media has created an atmosphere of caution, where brands and publications seem increasingly afraid to take real creative risks. The result is work that feels safer - and often far less interesting - than it could be.

Not everyone had a voice - certainly not in the way we do now.

It is true that editorial power was more centralised in the past. Criticism existed, yes, but virality was slower. In contrast, today’s Instagram and TikTok critics would dissect every image instantly. Brands and publications now operate in a hyper-reactive environment. The paradox is that these players say they want cultural relevance, yet relevance rarely comes from playing it safe. The real lesson from Franca Sozzani isn’t controversy - it’s conviction. In reality, people respond to clarity of vision, not neutrality.

It’s also worth thinking about what makes provocation intelligent, rather than cheap.

Not all shock, nor all current cultural discourse, is meaningful. True valuable insight may combine conceptual depth, cultural relevance, along with aesthetic sophistication and narrative coherence. In this respect, I believe there is another lesson to be learned from Franca Sozzani: taking a step back. She saw and honoured the real value of the talent-first approach. Franca’s provocation was not random, but conceptually grounded, and it demanded trust and respect for the photographers she worked with as artists and conceptual thinkers. Bruce Weber wrote her “I now realise I took [the photographs] for you… because you would be the only one who would understand,” and Peter Lindbergh said “it was always very personal - by Franca you felt understood as a photographer. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Let’s look at today’s environment:

Is the industry genuinely more cautious now, or just more performative?

It’s worth asking. But who can truly afford this risk today? While I like to think that a brand willing to defend its work with conviction and intelligence can still provoke - as long as it stays true to its identity, I will acknowledge that some brand codes naturally support particularly daring creativity: irreverence, intellectualism, rebellion and artistic experimentation. Without strong codes, provocation could indeed look random.

That said, splitting the room could even prove to be a strength.

A jack of all trades is a master of none - similarly, a brand that tries to appeal to everyone often ends up resonating with no one. Focusing on a clearly defined audience allows work to land deeply, even if it divides opinion. So let’s embrace the backlash! Franca didn’t retreat when criticised. She never over-explained. She operated from editorial conviction, not from trend opportunism. As long as there is consistency and the ability to stand ground and defend the work intellectually, we should remove fear from the equation, because it simply suffocates creativity. It’s okay to accept controversy as part of meaningful discourse - just avoid apologetic dilution.

When I think about my favourite campaigns and editorials that truly shaped fashion’s imagery, many belong to another era. But the most daring moments are not behind us. Culture moves in cycles, and perhaps we are ready again for a period of courage - one that leaves room for experimentation, mistakes, and a more playful, irreverent engagement with the world.

- Ana