Once upon a time, years before social media became a monstrous marketing machine, an editorial in a magazine, a look I had seen on the street, a conversation about texture, or even a fashion show could stay with me for weeks.

I’d replay the concepts in my head, and every time that concept would develop into something else, something personal. I’d match these thoughts with references and music. Things that held weight, and memory. I’d revisit certain collections months later and notice something I’d missed the first time. Fashion had a way of lingering. I was always inspired.

Now, everything feels over before it’s even begun.

A collection is posted on Instagram before the final model has left the runway. Within minutes, everyone’s declared their favourites. By the afternoon, @iDeserveCouture has already decided whether it’s a triumph or a disaster. A week later, we’re onto the next show, the next collaboration, the next “must-have” bag that we’ll inevitably forget by next month.

Lately, I’ve caught myself thinking something I never thought I’d say - I’m not inspired. And I haven’t been for a long time now.

Initially, I blamed the collections, then I blamed the endless carousel of creative directors, and then I blamed social media - and I still do to a point.

But perhaps the truth is uncomfortable because of the way we’ve changed the way we consume fashion, and in doing so, we’ve changed the way we value it.

Fashion was never meant to be inhaled at the speed we’re consuming it now.

Somewhere between affiliate links, same-day delivery, haul culture and algorithms that serve us a new aesthetic every 10 seconds, clothing stopped being something we lived with and became something we scrolled past.

We don’t experience fashion anymore, we are no longer experimental, everything and everyone looks the same. And perhaps people think I look the same - maybe I’m just as trapped in this system?

We’re simply processing fashion vs really experiencing it.

The irony is that we have more access to fashion than any generation before us, yet somehow we’re less emotionally connected to it. We can watch every runway live from our phones, order a lookalike before the original has even reached stores, and consume hundreds of outfits before breakfast. But abundance has a strange way of dulling appreciation. When everything is available all the time, nothing feels particularly special. I think that’s why so many of us are experiencing what feels like fashion fatigue.

I don’t believe fashion has run out of ideas, but I do think we’ve run out of space to absorb them.

The other thing I’ve been thinking about is how astonishingly detached we’ve become from the human process behind what we buy.

When was the last time any of us looked at a shirt and thought about the pattern cutter who translated a sketch into something wearable? Or the machinist who stitched every seam? Or the embroiderer who spent hours applying details that most people will never notice? Or the artisan who has spent decades perfecting a single technique?

We talk about “craftsmanship” as though it’s an abstract concept. It isn’t. IT’S A PERSON.

Fashion has somehow become one of the few industries where we celebrate the finished object while becoming increasingly disconnected from the people who made it.

Whether it’s a 5,000EUR jacket or a 30EUR dress, there is always a human story behind it. Someone designed it. Someone sampled it. Someone cut it, stitched it, pressed it, packed it and shipped it. Someone gave their time, their skill and, often, their body to produce something that many of us now add to a basket in under thirty seconds.

The speed of consumption has dehumanised the process of creation.

We’ve become so accustomed to instant gratification that we’ve forgotten clothing isn’t digital. It doesn’t appear out of nowhere. It passes through countless hands before it ever reaches ours. And yet, those hands remain largely invisible.

That’s what saddens me most. Not that we’re buying clothes - but just the fact that we’ve forgotten they’re made by people who are likely living and working in less than sanitary conditions, and struggling to feed themselves and their families.

As a stylist, I spend my life surrounded by beautiful things. I still love fashion deeply. I love the construction of a perfectly cut jacket, the engineering of a beautifully made handbag, the way an exceptional piece can completely change how someone carries themselves. That hasn’t changed.

What has changed is my relationship with consumption. I’m buying less than I ever have.

I’m not trying to be disciplined, I’m just trying to feel something again.

I’d rather wait six months for the right coat than buy six coats that leave no impression. I’d rather save for a beautifully made piece than chase the constant dopamine hit of acquiring something new.

I’m not saying that expensive is inherently better - it isn’t, but intention almost always is.

Perhaps fashion doesn’t need more trends? Maybe it needs more time and more appreciation for the people whose names we’ll never know but whose work hangs quietly in our wardrobes every day.

Because clothes were never supposed to be disposable and neither was the humanity behind them.

Until next time,

Amrita xo

Every summer, fashion invents a woman.

She travels to somewhere vaguely Mediterranean. She spends her mornings eating peaches on a terrace, her afternoons swimming in the bluest waters and her evenings drinking wine under bougainvillea - all whilst being dressed in beige linen separates with a raffia tote that seem to look classic - but she won’t be wearing come next summer. And despite existing almost entirely outdoors, she never appears to sweat either!

The problem is that this woman does not exist. At least not for most of us.

Most women are not spending July drifting around Capri. They’re answering emails, entertaining their children, sitting in traffic, running errands, attending meetings, and for us in the MENA region and further east, likely walking through humidity levels that should qualify as a human rights violation.

And yet every year we continue to dress and shop for a fantasy version of summer rather than the one we’re actually living.

Fashion’s greatest trick has always been aspiration. Its latest trick is convincing women that getting dressed is no longer enough. Now we must provide evidence that we are having the correct experience. The “correct” holiday, the correct lunch, or the correct version of leisure. It all feels very much like the images and staged social media reels of an annoying, cheap and ridiculous fashion and beauty platform loved by many who’s frontal lobe hasn’t fully developed. I’m not naming names.

But I digress, summer style has become less about personal style and more about proving participation.

Here’s what I’ve been thinking about and how it all looks from my perspective - and I’m literally not trying to trigger anyone. I’m just calling it as I see it - you aren’t carrying the raffia bag because you need a raffia bag, you’re carrying it because it signals that you’re the kind of woman who might spontaneously disappear to Ibiza for the weekend. The white linen dress thats gone viral on socials isn’t a dress anymore. It’s a personality. The oversized straw hat isn’t practical. It’s visual shorthand for a life most people don’t actually live.

What fascinates me is how identical everybody has become in pursuit of individuality.

Fashion spent years telling us to develop personal style. Social media convinced us that personal style is actually a Pinterest board. Let’s take a minute and get back to buying the shit we actually like!

So heres whats on my summer wishlist - some of which I have already purchased and will definitely be carrying from this season to the next.

The Personality Injectors

These are the pieces I like for a bit of a pop, when black and neutrals start to feel like monotony - which is rare for me, but I do like a little touch of something - be it a colour or print to keep things interesting. They kind of work seamlessly into my wardrobe without being overly loud. They create texture.

Reformation Olina Pants, Róhe Silk Maxi Dress, Massimo Dutti Brown Halter Top, Hunza G Blue Swimsuit, COS Satin Track Shorts, Massimo Dutti Flowing Linen Shirt, Toteme Silk Twill Scarf, Aeyde Snake Effect Leather Sandals, STAUD Del Mar Beaded Bucket Bag, LOEWE Aviator Style Sunglasses, Martha Calvo Lucinda Gold Plated and Crystal Necklace

The “Me” Bits

These are the pieces I’d reach for year after year - I feel like they transcend trends and living in the UAE, it means I can carry these pieces over into “winter” too.

Hunza G Jasmine Tonal Hoop Swimsuit, Hunting Season Medium Origami Satin Bag, Massimo Dutti Layered Flowing Wide Leg Pants, Unikspace Anya Linen Kimono, Massimo Dutti Nappa Leather Strap Top, Alaïa Beige Semi Sheer Linen and Silk Kaftan, Ilai Sarai Sabaen Knot Detail Top, Studio Amelia Pierre Flat Sandals, Gentle Monster Ivy T1 Sunglasses, Phoebe Philo Sterling Silver Ball Earrings, GIA Studios Moon Dress

Until next time,

Amrita xo

There is a particular type of woman I have become extremely suspicious of. You know the type - she talks endlessly about female empowerment and has the vocabulary down perfectly. She is plastered everywhere, hosts panels and “community” events. She claims she believes in women supporting women and apparently believes in community. She says she believes in lifting other women up. She has attended every panel discussion, posted every inspirational quote and photographed herself with enough women to suggest she is personally responsible for advancing the feminist movement.

And yet, somehow, every story involving her ends the same way - a friendship destroyed, a reputation damaged, a betrayal so dark you can’t fathom the layers of deceit, masquerade, and unthinkable evil games.

I’ve spent years working in fashion, media and luxury spaces, and one thing I’ve learned is that the women most committed to talking about empowerment are not always the women most committed to practising it.

In fact, some of the most dangerous women I’ve encountered have hidden behind the language of female solidarity. “Empowerment” has become an excellent disguise.

And personally, I think its because it’s difficult to question someone’s character when they’re busy talking about kindness. It’s difficult to challenge someone’s motives when they’re posting about community, and its impossible to point out manipulative behaviour when the person behaving badly has convinced everyone they’re a champion of women. The branding is impeccable and the reality is so far from what they’re publicly portraying.

What fascinates me is how allergic modern society has become to acknowledging that women are perfectly capable of being villains. Its not that they’re flawed, because we all are, no-one is perfect, its not a complicated situation, they’re not misunderstood. They’re actual villains who set out to hurt people intentionally - and sadly, some of us have been prey to it at some point in our lives.

Why is it that we have arrived at a point where pointing this out feels more controversial than the behaviour itself? The fact that people so deeply miserable are destroying other women whilst portraying themselves as a darling daughter, wife, a best friend, a “sister.”

The second you refuse to participate in the fiction, you’re labelled unsupportive and when the penny drops and you acknowledge reality, you’re accused of lacking sisterhood.

Apparently we’re all supposed to ignore the destruction someone has caused another woman because she happens to be female too? I won’t be doing that.

One of the strangest things I’ve noticed off the back of encountering and hearing about situations these women are in, is the expectation of continued access.

There seems to be an assumption that if enough time passes, everyone should simply move on. That we should smile politely at events, exchange pleasantries and collectively agree to forget who did what to whom.

I’ve never understood this.

Why would I grant access to somebody I don’t respect? Why would I enthusiastically engage with someone whose behaviour I find morally repulsive? Why would I separate the way a person treats me from the way they treat people I care about? The latter actually tells me far more.

A wise person once told me that character isn’t revealed when somebody wants something from you. It is revealed in how they treat people who have nothing to offer them. It’s revealed in how they behave behind closed doors. It’s revealed when loyalty becomes inconvenient.

Particularly loyalty. Everybody loves loyalty when it costs nothing and the real test is when loyalty means you need to make a decision when remaining neutral would be easier. I know far too many women who know something is wrong, but will remain neutral and never pick a side. I can’t respect that either because it makes me wonder how they even hold themselves upright when their entire spine is missing.

I’ve never been particularly interested in social convenience and one of the great luxuries of getting older is realising that not everybody deserves access to you, or your time or your attention. Not everyone deserves your warmth simply because they’re standing in front of you.

Why is there such a pressure placed upon us to be endlessly gracious, even in the presence of people whose values, or lack thereof, fundamentally offend us?

We’re told this is maturity. We’re told this is class. We’re told this is taking the high road. Personally, I think its a crock of sh*t.

Discernment is far more valuable than politeness and loyalty is more important than social performance.

I also think women need to stop confusing support for women with support for every woman. Those are not the same thing.

I support women. I support ambitious women. I support successful women. I support complicated women. I support difficult women. What I do not support are women who use empowerment as a marketing strategy while behaving like predators behind the scenes.

Those women don’t need my support and they certainly don’t get my access, energy, or attention.

What interests me is how somebody behaves when there is nothing to gain from being decent - because eventually the performance ends and the mask will slip and people will reveal themselves.

When they do, believe them - and hold them accountable. Because what do you mean you will tolerate the disrespect and stay quiet about what they did to you?!

Until next time,

Amrita xo

If, like me, you spend enough time around luxury retail, you start noticing things before everyone else does.

Let’s start with the tone of the messages from our beloved sales associates, the frequency of the follow-ups, the request for coffee meet ups and the sudden enthusiasm around pieces that, not long ago, would have quietly sold themselves.

Recently, I feel like something has shifted - and I’ve been feeling it for some time now.

Sales associates at luxury boutiques - the same people who once operated with a kind of calm, unbothered confidence - are now messaging more often, pushing harder, checking in constantly. The “just thought of you for this piece” texts have multiplied. The urgency has crept in - as well as the pressure.

For an industry built entirely on desire, it’s quite a strange look all of a sudden. And trust me, I’ve had them all - the pushy sales associates, the ones who lie and tell you its the “last piece,” and how extra special the item is. But this time, the energy is different.

Luxury, historically, has always relied on a very specific power dynamic in which the brand always has the upper hand. Clients wait. Access, or the lack thereof, is part of the thrill. “The bag isn’t immediately available. The jacket is allocated to a handful of stores. You might have to come back next season.”

That slight friction is what made luxury feel, well, luxurious.

Now the dynamic feels reversed. Pieces are being pushed, we as clients are being chased, inventory is simply being moved.

But why?

Personally speaking, I think part of the answer is that the product simply isn’t as compelling as it once was.

For several seasons now, many luxury houses have struggled to produce collections that feel genuinely exciting. There’s a strange sameness across the market - endless variations of the same silhouettes, the same oversized tailoring, the same vaguely “minimal” aesthetic, the same east-west handbags, the same satin ballerina flat…you get the idea.

The system, or so it seems, has grown too large.

Luxury brands are now expected to deliver constant growth. More collections, more capsules, more collaborations, more “drops.” It’s all just so…tiresome, exhausting and dare I say, is beginning to feel like very overpriced fast-fashion.

What used to be two carefully considered seasons a year has turned into a relentless production cycle designed to feed global retail networks. At some time, design has become secondary to inventory.

And clients - particularly high-net-worth clients like the ones I shop and style for - are noticing.

The people who spend the most money on fashion aren’t necessarily looking for more product. They’re looking for pieces that feel rare, thoughtful, and distinctive. When every store is filled with slight variations of the same thing, the illusion of exclusivity begins to fade.

It’s important to note and recognise that luxury doesn’t work without desire - and desire is fragile.

When product becomes repetitive, when collections feel rushed, and when boutiques start chasing clients instead of the other way around, the entire atmosphere of the industry changes.

The illusion cracks.

None of this means the luxury industry is about to collapse overnight. The largest houses remain extraordinarily powerful, and global demand for luxury goods is still enormous.

But something important has shifted and I think its the confidence.

For years, luxury operated with the assumption that growth was endless - that clients would continue buying more, season after season, no matter what.

Now the whole machine and operation feels slightly strained, maybe even a little nervous?

And when luxury starts to look nervous, people notice.

Because the one thing luxury has never been able to afford is desperation.

Until next time,

Amrita xo

But life has a funny way of recalibrating itself. Slowly, cautiously, things start to feel a little more normal again. Restaurants are filling up, group chats are being revived with their usual “where are we eating tonight?” debates, and suddenly there’s a reason to wear something other than the same comfortable rotation of day clothes.

And when it comes to dinner dressing, I’ve always believed in one very specific formula: a really good top. (Or a really good jacket but this isn’t about that).

Not a complicated outfit. Not head-to-toe styling drama. Just a great top that does most of the work for you.

The beauty of the “dinner top” is that it solves a very real problem. You want to look like you’ve made an effort, but not like you’ve spent three hours preparing for a red carpet. The right top instantly elevates simple trousers, jeans, or a skirt and gives the whole look a bit of personality.

It’s also the easiest way to inject a little fun into an otherwise quite restrained wardrobe. Even if you’re someone who lives in tailoring, neutrals, and classic silhouettes most of the time (guilty), a good going-out top allows you to experiment - a little texture here, an interesting sleeve there, maybe even a touch of sparkle if the mood calls for it.

And frankly, dinner is exactly the moment for it. You’re not dressing for a nightclub or a black-tie event - just that sweet spot where you want to look polished, a little interesting, and entirely effortless.

The kind of top that makes someone across the table say, “Where is that from?”

Below are some of the ones currently on my radar - the tops that make getting dressed for dinner significantly easier.

You might also want to note - before you decide nothing is “statement” enough - I always opt for timeless silhouettes in neutral tones so that these pieces maintain longevity in your closet - and are easy to dress up with statement jewellery.

Anyway, here are the ones I quite like right now - and I guess thats the point.

RÓHE Pankou Closure Silk Top, SSStein Skipper Silk Blend Shirt, Rick Owens Jumbo Tabard Silk Chiffon Blouse, Massimo Dutti Silk Blend Top With Cowl Neck, SourceUnkown Delphi Draped Top, Massimo Dutti Asymmetric Cut Silk Cape, St Agni Draped Silk Halter Neck Top

Ilai Sarai Taviel Top, Abadia Frill Jacket, Kallmeyer Jocelyn Draped Jersey Top, Khaite Aimee Asymmetrical Top

I know you’ve all been waiting for this one. If you’ve ever spent more than five minutes around me, you’ll know one thing - I wear a trench coat or a jacket constantly and a trench for me just happens to work all year round (yes even in the Dubai heat, because in the words of Kanye: “I don’t care if I’m hot, my outfits hot.”). So here I am…

Cold? Trench.
Warm? Trench.
Raining? Obviously trench.
Mildly inconvenient breeze? Also trench.

It’s the one piece in my wardrobe that never really goes away. Trends come and go, silhouettes shift, entire fashion aesthetics are declared “over” every six months - but the trench coat just quietly continues doing its job.

Part of the appeal is practicality. It’s light enough to wear almost year-round, structured enough to make even the most basic outfit feel intentional and put together, and dramatic enough to add a bit of presence without trying too hard.

And the real secret is that a good trench coat does half the work for you. Which is also why on the days I’m running around in a pair of Alo shorts and a basic tee and sneakers, a trench coat on top finishes the job. Throw one over denim and a white t-shirt and suddenly you look like you’ve made an effort. Wear it with tailoring and it instantly sharpens the whole look. Even airport outfits benefit from the illusion of polish a trench provides.

Naturally, people ask me about them all the time.

Which trench should I buy? Where did you get yours? What length works best?

The answer, as always, is that it depends - but there are a few things I’ve learned after wearing trench coats almost constantly.

L-R: Uniqlo Collarless Jacket (I sized up to a L), COS Mock Neck Cotton Trench, Acne Studios Cotton Blend Technical Trench, TOTEME Crisp Summer Trench

For one, length matters. I almost always prefer a longer trench - always ankle length. The extra length adds drama and elegance, and it tends to look far more polished than shorter versions that can sometimes feel a little dated.

Fit is another important factor. A trench should never feel tight or overly fitted. The beauty of the coat lies in how it moves - slightly relaxed, slightly oversized, able to layer easily over knitwear or tailoring, and sometimes even a leather jacket (if you’re me).

Fabric also makes a huge difference. A good trench has weight and structure to it. Fluid fabric works on silhouettes that have a beautiful A-line effect, like my vintage MaxMara from the 90’s, while a beautifully cut cotton or gabardine trench will hold its shape and look better the more you wear it - and Bouguessa’s Kai trench really ticks alot of those boxes.

Colour is where people often default to the obvious choice - camel - which is beautiful and classic. But I actually think olive or a stone, sometimes feel more interesting and modern depending on your wardrobe. Black and chocolate brown look great in more tailored fabrics, or even organza for an evening vibe.

L-R: 12Storeez Casablanca Trench Coat, Bouguessa Kai Trench, LIMÉ Water Repellent Cotton Trench, SSSTEIN Layered Crinkled Shell Trench

I also recently added a new trench to my own wardrobe from Celine, designed by Michael Rider, and it might be one of the most beautiful versions I’ve seen in a while. In fact, I had fallen in love with it the moment I had laid eyes on it at the resee in Paris last October.

At first glance it looks like a very classic trench, without the belt - clean lines, perfectly oversized proportions, nothing overly complicated. But the magic is in the lining. The inside is finished with a lining of Celine scarves, which feels like such an elegant little detail. It’s the sort of thing you don’t necessarily see immediately, but it adds a layer of quiet luxury that makes the coat feel special.

Those kinds of thoughtful details are exactly why a great trench coat is worth investing in. On the surface it’s a practical wardrobe staple, but when it’s done well, the craftsmanship and subtle design choices elevate it into something much more interesting.

“Fashion” always loves to declare things “over.” Especially on certain platforms where you’re being bombarded with new product and Pinterest trends on a daily basis.
”Minimalism is over. Barrel jeans are over. Red is over. Quiet luxury is over. Wear this colour. Gold jewellery. 10 Of The Best Woollen Bras. It’s hot, wear this.” - Like just SHUTUP, for the love of god! For the most part, I wouldn’t take style advice from any of them if they were voted best dressed at a fancy dress competition. We are much more discerning than that, dear readers.

The idea of dressing well is not to be consuming product on a weekly basis, but buying well instead.

L-R: Nour Hammour Claudia Belted Leather Trench, TIBI Frank Belted Shell Trench, SRG Tolev Coat (currently on sale), Mango Oversized Funnel Neck Trench Coat

Despite all that, the trench coat just keeps going.

Maybe it’s because the design is fundamentally practical? Maybe it’s because it looks good on almost everyone? Or maybe it’s because certain pieces simply transcend trends entirely?

Either way, if you’re going to invest in one piece of outerwear that works almost everywhere, all year round, it’s probably this one.

Which explains why I keep wearing mine.

Until next time,

Amrita xo

For many people, myself included, Zara was where you went when you loved fashion but couldn’t yet afford the real thing. It offered us a version of the runway that was filtered through affordability. Not exactly like the original, of course, but something adjacent to it - almost close enough to participate in the conversation.

And that worked, because luxury fashion, at the time, still felt aspirational.

You admired it from a distance. You saved up for it. The idea that certain pieces might remain out of reach was part of the allure and desire. For me, back then, luxury lived in a different universe - one defined by craftsmanship, exclusivity, and the understanding that not everyone would have access to it.

Lately though, that boundary has started to dissolve.

Increasingly, luxury designers and respected creative figures are collaborating with Zara, producing capsule collections that bring their aesthetic directly into the fast fashion ecosystem.

Recent examples include Stefano Pilati working with Zara, and most recently, John Galliano and Willy Chavarria. These aren’t obscure or bottom feeder industry figures - they’re people who have spent decades operating within the highest levels of fashion and often defining cultural moments.

Which raises my irritation and question: WHY?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!

Luxury and fast fashion have always existed in conversation with each other - not just with Zara, think Topshop and ASOS. But with Zara being the prime example here, let’s stick with it.

Zara built its entire business model on translating runway ideas into something available almost immediately. The runway would appear in Paris or Milan, and a few weeks later Zara would offer a version of the mood.

Everyone understood the arrangement. Luxury created the ideas and the high street responded.

Now the relationship feels much more literal.

Designers who once operated within rarefied fashion houses are suddenly producing collections for the same retailer that built its empire on replicating those houses.

It’s not shocking, exactly, but it does change the meaning of luxury, because when everything is accessible, nothing feels special.

Part of what defines luxury is scarcity.

Not necessarily in the “limited drop” sense that marketing departments love, but in the reality that certain things take time, skill, and resources to create.

When that same aesthetic appears simultaneously on a Zara rack, something shifts.

The message becomes: this is for everyone.

Which might sound democratic, even progressive, but it also removes one of the elements that made luxury compelling in the first place: Distance.

If everything exists at every price point, at the same time, the hierarchy collapses and the aspiration, for me anyway, is dissolving faster than an electrolyte tablet in sparkling water.

So why are designers saying yes? Of course, there are practical reasons these collaborations exist.

Fashion has become crazy expensive to run. Even designers operating at the highest level face intense pressure from conglomerates, shareholders, and an industry that now expects constant visibility.

A Zara collaboration offers scale - which is extremely powerful.

Millions of people will see the collection. Millions will buy it. In an attention economy, that kind of reach is difficult for any designer to ignore. But scale and luxury rarely coexist comfortably because one thrives on expansion and the other depends on restraint.

What I sometimes miss about fashion is the distance it once had.

You didn’t expect to own everything. The runway was allowed to exist as a space of imagination - a place where ideas lived before slowly filtering into the wider world. Today everything happens simultaneously.

A show appears online instantly, TikTok breaks down the trends by evening and within weeks, similar pieces are already on the high street. Collaborations like these Zara ones accelerate that cycle even further.

Instead of interpretation, we get direct translation and the mystique disappears.

My Condensed, And Confused, Final Thoughts?

None of this makes Zara the villain. Zara does exactly what it has always done - which is produce fashionable clothing quickly and efficiently for a broad audience. It has never pretended to be anything else.

I think the real shift is happening within luxury itself. Because when luxury designers begin collaborating with fast fashion retailers, the message becomes a little confusing.

If the same creative voice exists at both the highest and lowest ends of the market, what exactly separates the two?

Of course, there’s another reason these collaborations exist…perhaps?

It seems as though luxury fashion is facing a difficult moment. After years of aggressive price increases, many brands are starting to feel the effects of consumer fatigue. Prices have risen dramatically across the industry, often without a corresponding increase in quality (ahem, Chanel), and shoppers are becoming more selective about where they spend their money.

At the same time, younger consumers, particularly Gen Z, are much less invested in traditional luxury hierarchies. They’re comfortable mixing high and low, vintage and new, designer and high street. For many of them, the idea of spending several thousand dollars on a handbag simply doesn’t hold the same appeal it once did for us millenials.

And maybe its the case that for designers and brands trying to remain culturally relevant, partnering with a retailer like Zara gives them the power they want in the form of scale, visibility, and access to a global audience that luxury alone can’t always reach anymore.

In other words, these collaborations are a response to a changing fashion economy.

It was nice getting this off my chest, because its taken me a week to figure it out. Thanks for reading.

Until next time, Amrita xo

A brand can spend years quietly existing outside the “cool IT bag” fashion space before suddenly reappearing everywhere - on the arms of cool girls, on TikTok, in street style photos - as if it had never left at all.

Right now, that brand is Coach.

Which, if you’d asked most fashion people five or ten years ago, would probably have been met with a slightly polite pause.

Coach was always respectable. Dependable. A brand people recognised. But it wasn’t necessarily part of the fashion conversation in the way that, say, Bottega Veneta or Loewe might have been.

And yet, recently, it’s impossible to ignore the shift.

A Personal Reintroduction

I had bought my first ever Coach bag when I was 17 on a trip in New York. It was a tiny little shoulder bag in canvas and leather with the woven C logo all over it. It was $150USD at the time. Weirdly enough, having used my coach bag to death, in the days where social media wasn’t a thing, we weren’t overexposed to everything and luxury fashion was still aspirational, it had eventually just fallen off my radar.

That being said, I didn’t rediscover Coach through a runway show or a campaign. It was through a friend who is a handbag enthusiast. Someone who has collected handbags from the most covetable luxury brands - from croc and fringed Birkins to Louis Vuitton’s special collaborations.

The sort of person who knows every archival style, every limited edition, every obscure resale find. The kind of high end luxury collector who will happily explain the subtle differences between a bag from 2003 and one from 2007 - and then theres me, who is ALWAYS happy to take in every detail. So you can imagine my surprise when she told me she was really into Coach bags lately.

Recently, she started showing me some of the newer Coach styles she’d picked up - and I realised something had changed. The bags felt…good. The leather looks buttery, the proportions are modern, and dare I say edgy?

It made me look at the brand again with fresh eyes.

Why Coach Might Be The Reliable Brand We Need Now

I think a part of Coach’s resurgence comes down to timing.

Luxury fashion has become extraordinarily expensive over the past few years. At the same time, consumers have become increasingly sceptical about whether some of those price points are actually justified.

Coach sits in an interesting middle ground.

The bags are well made. The leather is good. The designs feel contemporary without being trend focused. And crucially, they remain accessible in a way many luxury houses no longer are.

There’s also far less emphasis on aggressive branding. Yes, the signature “C” exists - but it rarely dominates the design.

Instead, the bags rely on shape, material, and wearability.

Which, ironically, is exactly what many luxury houses are trying to communicate right now anyway.

Is Coach Relevant Again - Or Has It Always Been?

Coach never stopped making bags. What’s shifted is that people - particularly younger shoppers and fashion insiders - are starting to look at the brand differently again.

Less as a dependable classic, and more as a genuinely interesting accessory brand with strong design and heritage.

And sometimes all it takes is the right bag - or the right friend who happens to know every handbag ever made - to remind you that something worth noticing was there all along.

Here are the top 5 Coach bags I think are worth buying now…

Large Kisslock Frame Bag, Chelsea Shoulder Bag 36, Swing Zip Bag 26, Chain Tabby Shoulder Bag With Quilting, Soft Empire Carryall Bag 40

Until next time,

Amrita xo

When the world feels uncertain - particularly here in the Middle East where everyone is refreshing the news with one eye open and a low level of background anxiety - posting about clothes can feel a bit…trivial. A blazer is not going to fix geopolitics. Unfortunately.

But fashion has always served another purpose besides practicality. Sometimes it’s simply a distraction. A brief pause from doom-scrolling. A reminder that beauty, craft, and the small rituals of getting dressed still exist alongside everything else going on.

So consider this blazer edit exactly that - a small, harmless diversion.

Because if there is one item in a wardrobe that actually earns its keep, it’s the blazer.

Fashion calls everything an “essential” these days - usually while trying to convince you that a neon mesh top is somehow timeless - but the blazer is genuinely useful. It’s the one piece you can throw over almost anything and suddenly look like you meant to leave the house looking that way.

Running late? Blazer.

Outfit feels slightly questionable? Blazer.

Accidentally dressed like you’ve just wandered out in your house clothes? Blazer.

It’s the adult equivalent of putting on lipstick before leaving the house. Instantly more put together. Minimal effort required. Of course, the challenge is finding the right ones. If its too stiff, you look like you’re attending a corporate compliance seminar. Too oversized and you’re suddenly auditioning for a 2003 indie band.

The sweet spot sits somewhere in the middle: confident shoulders, relaxed lines, fabrics that feel expensive even if they weren’t.

Below are a few blazer styles I always come back to - some classic, some slightly directional, all capable of making an outfit look far more intentional than it probably was.

The Relaxed Tailoring Blazer

This is the modern default.

Slightly oversized, a little relaxed through the body, but still structured enough. It’s the blazer that works with literally everything - denim, wide-leg trousers, silk skirts, dresses you bought in a moment of optimism and haven’t quite figured out yet.

If you only buy one blazer, this is probably the one.

The trick is fabric and proportion. Look for wool blends, proper lining, and shoulders that still have some confidence about them. A good relaxed blazer should look effortless - not like you borrowed it from someone significantly taller and more chaotic.

Bouguessa Manny Blazer, Limé Single Breasted Blazer, Massimo Dutti Wool Suit Blazer, Massimo Dutti Crepe Blazer, Joseph Fallon Cady Blazer

The Bouclé Blazer

Bouclé is one of those fabrics that instantly signals polish.

Maybe it’s the texture? Maybe it’s the quiet association with French tailoring? Or maybe we’ve all just subconsciously absorbed decades of very elegant women wearing bouclé jackets while drinking espresso somewhere in Paris. Either way, it works.

A bouclé blazer softens tailoring in a really nice way - it’s structured but not severe, refined without feeling overly corporate. It also pairs surprisingly well with casual pieces. Denim, loafers, a simple tee…suddenly the entire outfit looks far more sophisticated than the five minutes it took to assemble.

Self Portrait Bouclé Jacket, Toteme Open Front Bouclé Blazer, Blazé Milano Antalya Gliss Cropped Jacket

The Longline / Maxi Blazer

The longline blazer is the slightly dramatic cousin of the classic version.

Longer silhouettes - sometimes almost coat-length - create a beautiful vertical line and instantly make everything underneath feel more streamlined. They’re particularly good with wide-leg trousers or straight denim, because the proportions balance each other out.

They also have a slightly cinematic quality. You feel a bit like you’re striding purposefully through an airport terminal in a film where everyone is mysteriously well-dressed.

Which, frankly, is never a bad energy to channel. And yes, Bouguessa is ALWAYS my go-to for these.

TOVE Allegra Cotton Blend Coat, Bouguessa Dana Long Blazer, Bouguessa Alison Long Blazer, Bouguessa Nouf Long Blazer, Bouguessa Rawan Long Blazer

The Mandarin Collar Blazer

A mandarin collar blazer quietly changes the entire mood of tailoring.

Without traditional lapels, the silhouette feels cleaner, sharper, and slightly more architectural. It removes a lot of the visual fuss that classic blazers sometimes have, which makes the overall look feel minimal and modern. Think of it as tailoring with a bit more personality.

Massimo Dutti Satin High Neck Blazer, Róhe Pankou Collar Blazer, Toteme Single Breasted Blazer, Limé Hourglass Blazer, Massimo Dutti Linen Overshirt With Button Detail, Liberowe Alef Woven Blazer

The Slightly Directional Blazer

This is where things get a little more interesting.

Sharper shoulders, sculpted waists, unusual cuts, double-breasted closures, some draping - blazers that still function as wardrobe pieces but bring a little extra drama to the table.

These are the ones that make people ask where your blazer is from, even if the rest of your outfit is fairly simple.

My advice here is to keep the colour neutral so the silhouette can do the talking. Black, chocolate, charcoal, camel, ivory - classic shades that let the tailoring be the star.

Jacquemus The Ovalo Jacket, Abadia Ruffled Wool Blend Blazer, Bouguessa Zelda Two Tone Blazer, Balenciaga Sculpted Houndstooth Blazer, Calvin Klein Parker Wool Blazer

Lastly…

Blazers are one of the rare fashion pieces that genuinely make life easier.

They pull outfits together, add structure where it’s needed, and somehow make even the most last-minute outfit look like you put in a respectable amount of effort.

And in times when everything else feels a little chaotic, there’s something reassuring about clothes that simply do their job well.

So yes - this blazer edit may not solve the world’s problems, but it might make getting dressed tomorrow morning slightly easier.

And honestly, at the moment, we’ll take the small wins.

Until next time,

Amrita xo

I’m going to keep this one short, but it must be said.

Working as a stylist means existing inside the machinery of fashion. I watch the shows, analyse the collections and sometimes, depending on my clients’ excitement about a show, I place pre-orders before pieces even hit the shop floor. It’s part of how luxury sustains it’s momentum.

But what happens when momentum collides with reality? Because right now, we’re facing a time of uncertainty and looming war.

We are currently facing a period of political unrest and war in the Middle East - when my clients and their families are anxious, watching developments unfold, worried about their safety, of their children and homes.

And in all of this, I received a message from a UAE-based sales associate at a luxury house asking whether my clients would like to secure runway pieces…

The text message started with the niceties, the “OMG what is going on in the country?!” and then, in the same breath, “did you watch the show? do your clients want to place an order?” As if they didn’t really care for any type of answer on whats really going on politically and the mental state people are currently in - except for securing that sale.

On one level, I’m aware it was routine. On another, it felt revealing.

In all of this very seemingly small, passing moment, I simply feel angry at the audacity. It showed me that these brands don’t care what their most committed clients are going through, as long as they pay up, and its really not a good feeling.

Influence, credibility, and luxury all claim to be built on relationships, on understanding clients - on reading the goddamn room at the very least.

And let me tell you, the room right now, is not thinking about next season’s bags and coats - it is thinking about security and safety.

This particular situation made me reflect on something broader within the industry as we speak often about connection, about community, about being culturally aware. But awareness requires presence.

A brand can have heritage, craftsmanship and exclusivity - but if it lacks emotional intelligence, something feels hollow.

Real influence isn’t just the ability to sell. It’s the ability to sense timing. To know when to push and when to pause.

In uncertain times, sensitivity becomes the ultimate luxury.

Until next time,

Amrita xo

There’s a particular kind of woman who speaks fluently about wellness and “empowerment.”

She references “sisterhood” often. She talks about supporting other women, about holding space. Her captions are considered. Her tone is warm. There’s an over the top “hi, omg how are you?!” air kissing and hugs when she greets other women. She knows the language of “growth, of healing, of elevation,” (and social climbing).

On the surface, she appears expansive - and then you observe her more closely… and even when you don’t, you catch a vibe, an inexplicable energy. One that can make you sound like a hater - but you might be onto something.

It’s a strange dissonance - this gap between personal branding and private behaviour. And I don’t think it’s accidental. I think it’s psychological. The warmth has conditions. The generosity has hierarchy. The softness sharpens the moment she feels challenged - and its obvious to you, you sense it and you can’t understand how no one else is seeing what you’re seeing.

We live in an era where morality can be aestheticised. Empowerment has become a visual identity. Wellness has become a personality type. It’s possible now to curate virtue the same way we curate outfits by selecting the right phrases, post the right causes, stand in the right rooms.

But language is easy. Integrity is much harder.

True empowerment requires security. And security is rare. It requires a stable sense of self that doesn’t wobble when another woman walks into the room accomplished, intelligent, well dressed, self-aware or confident. It requires the ability to celebrate someone else without instinctively measuring yourself against them.

There’s a pattern I’ve noticed over time. Kindness flows upward to power and outward to audiences - but rarely sideways to peers. Support becomes strategic. Praise becomes selective. And “sisterhood” quietly turns into competition the moment no one is watching.

I’ve experienced this first-hand in a workplace. A manager once suggested I needed to put more effort into building camaraderie with a colleague. But camaraderie isn’t something you manufacture alone. When the energy is competitive rather than collaborative, forcing connection becomes theatre. And I’ve never felt compelled to appease someone who appears more comfortable plotting than partnering. I am simply not competitive. I genuinely believe that we are all on our own journey - and what is ours will always find us. Plus we don’t know what kind of sacrifices the next person made to be where they are. We cannot be anyone except ourselves, and nobody else can be us - and isn’t that powerful enough?

But back to my point, the most revealing moments about these competitive types aren’t public. They’re the small ones - the interrupted sentences, the withheld introduction, the subtle exclusion. Power isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s expressed through omission.

Insecure people don’t always look insecure. Often they look polished. Composed. Even generous. But insecurity has telling signals - it cannot tolerate proximity to equals. The warm persona becomes ice cold when hierarchy disappears.

And because the public persona is so carefully constructed, anyone who experiences the other side is left questioning themselves. Was I too sensitive? Did I misread that? Maybe she’s just direct.

That’s the clever part. The duality creates confusion.

The older I get, the less impressed I am by empowerment rhetoric and the more attentive I am to consistency. Not perfection - consistency. Does the private tone match the public one? Does the woman who speaks about lifting others actually do so when there’s nothing to gain?

Real empowerment is quiet. It doesn’t need constant documentation. It doesn’t require applause. It certainly doesn’t need to diminish other women in order to feel powerful.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: some people build brands around qualities they don’t naturally embody. Not because they’re calculating villains - but because they aspire to traits they haven’t integrated. The performance becomes a substitute for the work. And I simply cannot stand performative behaviours. The falseness of it all. The OTT enthusiasm. The applause for mediocrity.

But performance is fragile. Eventually, the gap between persona and reality widens enough for others to feel it. You don’t have to name names. Patterns reveal themselves.

The most powerful women I’ve encountered rarely announce it. They don’t overuse the language of empowerment. They don’t need to signal virtue. Their security is steady. Their kindness isn’t selective. Their behaviour doesn’t change depending on who’s in the room.

That, to me, is real influence.

Until next time,
Amrita xo

Something feels different in the industry right now.

The numbers are still there. The brand trips, gifting, “exclusive” dinners, and “collaborations” are still happening. The front rows are still photographed and posted in real time. On the surface, everything looks intact. But I’ve noticed, and felt myself, that the temperature has shifted. There’s a subtle cooling where there used to be heat and focus.

For years, the term “influencer” was synonymous with power. Access meant authority. Followers meant relevance. If you were flown somewhere fabulous, dressed by the right house, and photographed in the right light, that was enough to signal importance. The formula was simple and it worked - until it didn’t.

What we’re witnessing now isn’t a dramatic collapse. It’s more like a quiet erosion? If that’s the correct term? And I don’t think it’s because audiences suddenly resent influencers. It’s because the illusion is thinning, the mask is slipping, and are we all just over it? Bored? Perhaps it’s all just feeling like we’re being sold to all the time, and that people we thought had style, actually don’t because they’ll change their style based on whoever is gifting them or paying?

There was a time when simply being invited somewhere felt aspirational. The proximity to luxury felt rare. But not that we’re seeing it for what it really is, we understand the contracts, the deliverables, the staged spontaneity. We know the trip is gifted, the dinner is sponsored, the “candid” moment has been briefed. Access, we’ve realised, is transactional. And once something stops feeling rare, it stops feeling powerful I think.

Overexposure hasn’t helped either. There’s a reason true icons have always understood restraint. When every meal, fitting, airport lounge and facial is documented, nothing carries weight. Saturation dulls impact. What once felt directional - someone showing you something new - now often feels repetitive. The same hotel, the same handbag, the same croissant and coffee framed as “discovery.”

For a long time, aesthetic alone was enough. A beautiful feed could substitute for a point of view. But aesthetic without perspective is decoration. And I think we, as the audience, have matured. We’re less impressed by lighting and more interested in discernment. We want to know why something matters, not just that it photographs well.

This is where the difference between visibility and influence becomes uncomfortable.

Visibility can be engineered. It can be bought, scaled, boosted and replicated. Influence is slower. It’s built on taste, clarity and restraint. It needs a point of view that doesn’t waver depending on who’s paying. It demands consistency over virality and a willingness to risk being disliked. That’s harder to manufacture.

The change we’re seeing now seems to denote that scale is no longer as impressive as specificity. Micro-communities are holding more power than mass audiences. Depth feels more compelling than volume. People are gravitating towards individuals who stand for something, even if that something isn’t universally agreeable.

Some fashion influencers are losing relevance not because the industry is cruel, but because they were never truly influential to begin with. They were visible. And visibility, on its own, is fragile.

This isn’t a moral judgment. The ecosystem has continuously rewarded volume and constant output for years - brands wanted reach, platforms wanted frequency, and we all moved at that pace. But, for me, fatigue has set in, and with fatigue comes discernment.

The people who will remain relevant won’t necessarily be the loudest. They’ll be the most precise. They’ll understand that attention is borrowed, but credibility is earned - and earned slowly. They’ll know when to speak, when to edit, and when not to show up at all.

Influence isn’t entirely dead. It’s just becoming rarer - and far more interesting.

Anyway, this is only my opinion, and you’re free to disagree. Influence, after all, isn’t built on universal approval.

Until next time,
Amrita xo

There’s a certain kind of wardrobe that looks effortless from the outside but is actually highly controlled. Not trend-heavy. Not loud. Not overly styled. Just precise.

I’ve realised that most outfit problems aren’t really about needing something new - they’re about weak foundations. If the proportions are wrong, if the fabric is flimsy, if the silhouette lacks intention, no accessory or “viral” peice will rescue it.

So this isn’t a trend edit. It’s a structural one.

These are the pieces I return to because they do the heavy lifting quietly. The ones that make everything else - denim, flats, tailoring - feel considered. They’re the base – everything else adds personality.

The Structured Blazer

If the shoulder collapses, the outfit collapses.

I look for subtle structure, a slightly elongated line, and enough room through the body to layer without looking bulky. Especially on a petite frame, proportion is everything - too cropped and it shortens you, too oversized and you disappear. A good blazer should create shape, not chaos.

L-R: Bouguessa Dalia Blazer, COS Merino Wool Blend Blazer, TOVE Maya Blazer

Mid-Waist Denim (Never Skinny)

We’ve done this beofre and I’m going to say it again. Rise is not a minor detail. It changes everything.

Mid-waist elongates the torso without feeling restrictive, and a relaxed leg balances the frame far better than anything slim or clingy. I want denim that holds its shape and moves with intention - not something that feels sprayed on or badly shaped.

L-R: Agolde Arc Mid-rise Wide Leg Jeans, Citizens Of Humanity Ayla Jeans, Nili Lotan Otis Barrel Jeans

The Good Shirt

Nothing overly tailored. Nothing fussy.

A proper shirt - crisp cotton, strong collar, slightly oversized - instantly sharpens an outfit. It works tucked, half-tucked, or loose without needing styling theatrics. White, pale blue, denim, subtle stripe. Clean. Architectural. Reliable.

L-R: Citizens Of Humanity X Argent Harris Denim Shirt, Toteme Cotton Shirt, Mango Cotton Shirt

The Trousers

Tailoring should skim, not grip. The ones I always opt for have some kind of drama - especially the ones I wore in a recent instagram post.

Wide through the leg, perhaps a barrel leg - leather, wool, twill, cotton - each fabric has its place and silhouette in tones that ground everything else. When the cut is right, you don’t need embellishment.

L-R: Ilai Sarai Kavék Trousers, SSStein Wool-Twill Wide Leg Trousers, COS Barrel Leg Trousers

The Shoe That Means Business

Shoes change the vibe of any outfit.

A strong loafer, a tabi ballet flat, a sharp ankle boot, a kitten heel sandal, even a leather flip flop. If the silhouette is correct, height becomes irrelevant - polish doesn’t require a heel, but when it does, you’ll have a fierce boot at the very least. I don’t stray from my beloved Khaite Nevada boots. At the same time - we all know that I’m unhinged enough to be styling a big coat with flip flops in the very mild, Dubai winter.

L: Khaite Nevada Boots T-B: YSL Le Loafer Eel Loafers, Studio Amelia Greta 50 Mule, A.Emery Kinto Leather Flip Flops, Miu Miu Plume Suede Sneakers, Khaite Mila 35 Snake Effect Sandals

The Everyday Bag

I love a bag that slouches as much as a structured one. There are always too many choices – too many trends! For everyday, I gravitate towards practicality, medium to large scale and minimal hardware. A bag should anchor the outfit, not compete with it. When it’s well-designed, it finishes the look without shouting. These are the three on my current wishlist.

L-R: Bottega Veneta Andiamo Bucket, Balenciaga Medium Rodeo, COS Gallery Tote Bag

The Coat That Frames Everything

A coat is architecture.

Long line, strong shoulder, proper fabric. Even in the summer – I’ll lean into maxi blazers styled over shorts and easy tshirts. It’s one of the few categories where I’m comfortable investing because it defines the entire silhouette. Camel, black, deep brown - nothing novelty, nothing seasonal. Just presence. Even if it’s a softer, less structured, silhouette, the quality and cut is paramount. For an oversized fit, I often look to menswear.

Lastly…

This isn’t about minimalism for the sake of it. Its actually not about minimalism at all. It’s about how you dress around the basics that elevates and makes your look about you. About how you use your personality injectors to make these basics more interesting.

When your wardrobe has structure, getting dressed stops being a negotiation. You’re not chasing relevance or compensating for weak pieces or trying to stay on top of trends you’ll hate by next week. You’re just…composed and effortless.

And that feels far more modern than any trend cycle ever could.

Until next time,
Amrita xo

For years now, I’ve learned that denim - especially if you’re on the shorter side - is less about trends and more about geometry – the visual balance, as I like to call it. Where the waist hits. How the leg falls. Whether the fabric holds its shape. The endless styling options. Longevity. These details matter, even if no one else can quite articulate why your outfit works.

The Rise Matters More Than You Think

I almost always opt for mid-waist styles. High-rise can feel aggressive and oddly shortening on a petite frame, while low-rise is a logistical risk I’m no longer interested in taking. Mid-waist is the quiet sweet spot - it elongates the torso without forcing anything, and it actually lets the rest of the outfit breathe.

This is also where I draw a hard line: no skinny jeans, nothing too slim, nothing sprayed on. If a jean clings or squeezes, I’m out. I want ease. I want movement. I want a leg shape that feels intentional, not nostalgic for 2012.

The Brands I Actually Trust

I’m loyal to brands that understand proportion.

Citizens of Humanity is my perennial go-to. They just get it. The Horseshoe, Winslow, Ayla and Miro styles are relaxed but considered, and the ones I reach for the most – they’re flattering. They sit properly on the body and don’t require constant adjusting, which is really the highest compliment I can give a pair of jeans.

On the luxury end, Bottega Veneta, Toteme, Nili Lotan and Celine do denim the way I like it: architectural, slightly masculine, and designed to be styled. These are jeans that make sense with a sharp jacket, a good boot and minimal effort.

And then there’s COS, which is often overlooked but consistently excellent for everyday denim. Clean lines, good weight, no unnecessary drama. The kind of jeans you reach for on repeat without overthinking it.

With any pair, I always check how they behave when they’re long - whether they can be cuffed casually or altered without ruining the line of the leg. One quiet trick I swear by is buying cropped styles in a regular fit - on a petite frame, they often land exactly where they should. And for the record - I actively avoid anything labelled “petite.” I cannot emphasise this enough. The fits are never flattering, nor do they sit in the desired way on the body. I also recommend sizing up in certain styles for a looser fit – you can always add a belt!

What I Look For (Every Single Time)

My denim checklist is simple, but non-negotiable:

Mid-waist only
A relaxed leg with structure
Fabric that holds its shape
Works with flats and heels
Doesn’t try to be the personality

Good denim should support the outfit, not dominate it.

Here’s My Edit

1. Citizens of Humanity, Ayla High Rise Baggy Jeans

2. COS, Barrel Leg Denim Drawstring Trousers

3. MOTHER, The Half Pipe Mid Rise Ankle Jeans

4. Nili Lotan, Shon Mid Rise Barrel Jeans

5. Citizens of Humanity, Miro Relaxed Jeans

6. Citizens of Humanity, Winslow Boyfriend

7. SLVRLKE, Nosh Turn Up Relaxed Jeans

8. Dagmar, Cropped Denim

9. Bottega Veneta, Straight Leg Jeans

10. Toteme, Mid Rise Cropped Jeans

11. Celine, Boyfriend Jeans

12. Massimo Dutti, Balloon Fit Jeans

A Note on Trends (And Why I Ignore Most of Them)

I don’t shop denim based on what’s trending, what’s “back,” or what TikTok has decided we’re all wearing this week. Trends move fast. Proportion doesn’t.

When jeans are right, they disappear into your wardrobe in the best way. They become the foundation - the thing you build around - rather than the thing you have to justify.

And Lastly…

This edit isn’t about rules or perfection. It’s about knowing your body, trusting your eye, and choosing pieces that actually work for your life - not just for a photo.

If you’re petite and tired of denim that almost works, this is your sign to stop compromising. The right jeans exist. You just don’t need twenty pairs to find them.

I’ll share the specific pieces I’m loving below - styled simply, worn often, and very much tested in real life.

Until next time,
Amrita xo

Not in a panic way. Not in a “where did the time go” way. More in a “who approved this?” way. Like my age has been mis-entered into a system and no one’s bothered to fix it.

I don’t feel 39. There’s no sense of arrival. No emotional slideshow. No sudden urge to reinvent myself, have a baby, or explain my life choices to a stranger at dinner. If anything, I feel calmer. Clearer. Less interested in being likeable. Or digestible. Or quiet about my opinions.

We’re taught to perform age - especially as women. Every birthday comes with an invisible checklist, i.e, marriage, children, career milestones, emotional softness, social palatability. If you don’t tick those boxes in the correct order, people assume you must be conflicted. Or brave. Or spiralling privately. Or “still figuring it out.”

I’m none of the above. I’m just… fine, and content in my bubble with my husband of almost 13 years, and our daughter, Pickles (she’s a dogue).

I’m not grieving a life I didn’t choose. I’m actively enjoying the one that makes sense to me - and at 39, that feels clearer than ever.

Let’s address the obvious one: children. I’ve never regretted not having them. Not once. No late-night doubt, no secret yearning, no dramatic internal monologue. That doesn’t mean I dislike children or judge anyone who’s chosen that path - it just means I know myself. I know my energy. I know what I want my days to look like. And I knew that at 24, which feels almost rude in hindsight. Early clarity is inconvenient, but it’s efficient.

What has changed with age is my relationship to time. I’m less frantic. Less reactive. Less interested in keeping up with trends, conversations, or people that don’t genuinely interest me. I’m more selective - with work, with clothes, with friendships, with where I spend my attention. Not because I’ve “matured,” but because I’m tired of pretending everything deserves access to me.

Ironically, I feel younger now than I did in my early thirties. Back then, I was still negotiating. Explaining. Softening my edges for context. Now I just move through the world as I am - curious, opinionated, engaged, and completely uninterested in whether that feels appropriate for my age bracket.

So yes, I’m turning 39.
I’ll celebrate with good food, good people, and a few things I absolutely didn’t need but deeply wanted. I’ve linked those below too - because taste doesn’t expire, and pleasure isn’t something you age out of. (And its also likely that instead of celebrating, I’ll avoid my birthday altogether).

If I’m talking you through my list of the things I got for my birthday - they’re all things I’ll use often, practical. Not everything needs to have some sentimental meaning!

Firstly, yes, those Khaite boots are just a different variation of ones I already own, but I wear them alot - so why not?

The Rimowa hand luggage - well, sometimes its just nice to have a chic cabin bag isn’t it?

As for the Tom Ford glasses - the thing that is likely difficult to come to terms with is the fact that my eyesight is weaker than it was just a few years ago. Therefore, I thought it best to get some new frames - I’m still plucking up the courage to go to the optician to get prescription lenses fitted.

The Citizens of Humanity Winslow jeans - whilst not a gift, I got them recently and can’t stop wearing them - I get asked about them all the time, so now you have the link!

Gifts aside, 39 doesn’t really feel old.
It feels like freedom - with better boundaries, fewer explanations, and a much lower tolerance for nonsense.

Until next time,
Amrita xo

Not bad - just predictable. The same silhouettes, the same recognisable shapes, the same knowing glances exchanged over who managed to “get the call.” Bags became less about taste and more about endurance. Who waited longest. Who paid most. Who played the game properly.

And honestly? I think a lot of us are tired.

Lately, the bags catching my eye aren’t the ones being pushed hardest, photographed endlessly, or rationed like rare artefacts. They’re more intentional, accessible and probably designed by people who still seem to care about proportion, leather, and how something actually sits on the body.

This isn’t an anti-luxury piece. I love beautiful things. Always have. But we’re in a very post-luxury moment, whether the industry wants to admit it or not. When everything is marketed as an “investment,” nothing really is. And when logos do all the talking, personal style quietly exits the conversation.

What feels refreshing right now are contemporary labels doing the work. Bags that don’t require a relationship with a sales associate. Bags that aren’t trending aggressively on social media. Bags you choose because they feel right, not because you’ve seen them fifty times already on Pinterest.

What I Look For in a Chic Bag

I don’t judge what people wear or carry - truly. But I do know what keeps my attention. For me, it’s always been about:

• Silhouette first - does it fit my personal aesthetic?

• Texture - this always matters when you’re styling a fit. Sometimes a suede bag might work better than a plain leather, or you might need a snakeskin or a calf haired leopard texture to add a pop of something.

• Restraint - hardware that’s considered, and doesn’t restrict you from wearing certain metals – usually gold/silver. I like to mix them – I don’t mind wearing gold and silver together.

• Wearability - bags should live with you, and I love when they start looking worn in.

• Longevity - pieces that age, soften, and improve, rather than expire.

A good bag doesn’t shout. It doesn’t chase relevance. It just…stays - and this is definitely true for me. I have carried my very popular, and highly marketed, Manu Atelier Cambon 40 in suede to other countries, to the gym, to lunch meetings - its got that staying power! Whilst I did buy into the “trend" - its a great contemporary classic with better quality than many luxury brands.

The Edit

Below is a selection of bags I’ve been bookmarking, carrying, or coming back to repeatedly. They’re contemporary, well-designed, and - importantly - don’t rely on instant recognition.

Many of them look far more expensive than they are, but more than that, they feel intentional.

1. NEOUS Phoenix Baguette Bag

2. TOTEME Belted Croc Effect Leather Tote

3. YUZEFI XL Mochi Tote Bag

4. LIÉ STUDIO The Eva Weekend Leather Tote

5. MANU ATELIER Cambon Cabas

6. BOUGUESSA Ounassa Leather Bag

7. LIFFNER Leather Clutch

8. TOTEME T-Lock Mini Leopard Calf Hair Clutch

9. DEMELLIER The Midi Stockholm Leather Bag

10. POLENE Cyme Tote

11. THE ATTICO La Passeggiata Medium Leather Tote

A Final Thought

The chicest women I know aren’t trying to be “in.” They’re not performing taste or dressing for algorithms. They’re thoughtful. Curious. Slightly detached from the noise. And their bags reflect that - useful, beautiful, and they look loved. I even love how some women accessorise their bags with a scarf or a bunch of quirky charms. Even if it is a Labubu! (I said what I said).

You don’t need a logo to look put together.
You don’t need permission to choose differently.
And you certainly don’t need to wait your turn.

Until next time,

Amrita x

Partly because I’ve been busy. Partly because, if I’m honest, a few people felt a bit… personally addressed by my thoughts on fashion. That was never the intention. I write broadly, culturally - not about individuals - but when things feel close to the bone, people tend to take them home with them.

Instead of clarifying myself into a spiral, I stepped back. Sometimes the chicest response is silence.

The truth is, I’ve been deep in MOLTN, co-founded with Pavan Premaney. Just the two of us, building something slowly and intentionally. A platform centred on culture, style, beauty and lifestyle, but rooted in lived experience instead of a sleuth of fast moving trends. A space to amplify brown voices without reducing them to “moments.” Working on it has been grounding in a way fashion hasn’t felt for a while.

And that’s the uncomfortable part.

I’ve been feeling uninspired by style lately. Not bored - uninspired. Everything looks fine. Well styled. Well lit. Perfectly referenced. And yet, nothing really moves me. We’re in an era where everyone is dressed correctly (depending where in the world you are - because style in Dubai is dire and almost non existent), but very few people are dressed creatively. Style feels more like compliance than expression.

Fashion right now is loud with change but quiet on feeling. Creative directors are swapping houses at speed, legacy brands are mid-identity crisis, and audiences are slowly disengaging emotionally. People are falling out of love with labels they once defended instinctively, not because the clothes are bad, but because they no longer say anything.

And when style becomes about algorithms, partnerships, and performance, it stops being a source of inspiration. It becomes content.

I think that’s why my writing hit a nerve. When the industry itself feels unsure, critique can feel personal. But this isn’t about calling anyone out. It’s about calling something in. A desire for fashion to feel curious again. Human again. Less rehearsed.

I still love fashion - when it’s thoughtful, cultural, a little imperfect. When it trusts the wearer to bring something to it. When it doesn’t ask to be filmed, explained, or justified.

So yes, I went quiet.
Not because I had nothing to say - but because I needed to remember why I was saying it.

I’m back, I guess.

Somewhere between late-night Google Docs and my fifth cup of tea of the day, MOLTN was born. Not with a grand announcement or PR blast - just quietly, intentionally. Because the goal was never noise. It was impact. Auspiciously, and by total chance, it launched on the day of Diwali. A time to celebrate light over darkness, liberation. (Lord knows we need to be liberated from a western narrative that controls just how much of our culture anyone really gets to see).

I co-founded MOLTN with my friend and creative partner, Pavan Premaney, and together we’ve been building it from the ground up - just the two of us, obsessing over everything from fonts to tone to content. It’s been chaotic, hilarious, deeply fulfilling work (for me anyway - because Pavan is the one with the tech knowledge and better understanding of everything really - and I am the overly emotional one that cries). But above all, MOLTN is the starting point for a space where we hold the door open for those coming behind us, instead of gatekeeping and pulling the ladder from beneath us.

At its core, MOLTN is about representation done right - not tokenism, not diversity for the sake of a marketing deck, but a real platform that celebrates the South Asian and Middle East diaspora as part of the global conversation, not a side note to it. We wanted to create a space that feels as multifaceted as we are - one that amplifies brown voices in spaces that often pretend we don’t exist, and shows off the coolest, most nuanced sides of our culture: the style, the music, the art, the attitude.

It’s not a publication about trends or hype. It’s about taste. It’s about redefining what “cool” looks like - and who gets to own that word. It’s the kind of platform we wished existed when we were growing up: smart, stylish, and proudly brown.

So yes, I’ve been quiet lately. Because building something intentional takes time. There’s no team of interns, no “content calendar,” no fluff - just two people trying to make something that feels both meaningful and modern. Authentic.

MOLTN isn’t about performative representation. It’s about real inclusion, the kind that doesn’t need to shout to be heard.

It’s not just a platform - it’s a love letter to where we come from, and where we’re headed. Slowly, intentionally, and with great style.

Until next time,

Amrita x

I know my tone can come off sharp sometimes. But if you’ve read my previous pieces, you know I never write at anyone - I write about the state of things. When I spoke about brown girls being overlooked in fashion or the endless performance of “quiet luxury,” it wasn’t about individuals, it was about a system that rewards sameness over substance. This piece isn’t any different. (Being offensive is certainly NOT the MO here! But if you are easily offended, rest assured, these are just my thoughts and I don’t know you).

Because lately, it feels like personal style has flatlined. Everywhere I look, I see Pinterest clones - people dressed by brands rather than inspired by them. Style influencers with wardrobes that feel algorithmically generated. It’s not that they look bad - it’s that they look like everyone else. And honestly, I’m fatigued and so bored by it.

I’m Not A Snob. I Just Like What I Like.

The truth is, I don’t judge what anyone wears. I’m not keeping score. But I do have a taste that leans toward intention over impulse - pieces made with thought, that have weight and structure, that don’t need a logo to speak. I care about design, proportion, and quiet details that reward attention - whether its a piece from COS or Khaite. Not because it’s elitist, but because I believe clothes should mean something. There is a human process before any garment even reaches the stores, which is why I take a mindful approach to consumption when it comes to shopping for myself, personally.

It’s real people that make your clothes - not robots, and when it comes to high street and fast fashion, we must also remember that garment workers don’t even get a fraction of what you pay for the product. Which is why every piece I purchase - no matter how expensive or cheap - is well considered before it comes home with me.

Moreover, fast trends don’t hold my interest because they lack a story. I’m far more drawn to a jacket that’s been cut with precision or a piece that feels personal - something that could belong only to you. That’s not snobbery. That’s discernment.

Inspiration Over Imitation

These days, I find more inspiration in art, architecture, and conversation than I do online. Menswear, in particular, fascinates me - the discipline, the restraint, the way structure meets ease. That’s what makes me think about style, not a carousel of “must-haves” that’ll be irrelevant in six weeks. I also find inspiration in my own closet - these are pieces I purchased because I like them. Therefore, I should wear them to death in as many ways as it is possible - because thats where creativity lies.

Social media has made fashion fast, flat, and fleeting. Everyone’s chasing virality instead of vision. But the best dressers, the ones whose style actually lingers, are the ones who know who they are. They don’t wear trends - they wear conviction.

When Style Becomes Content

The irony is that the more we talk about “personal style,” the less personal it’s become. Getting dressed used to be an act of self-expression. Now, it’s an upload schedule. You can almost tell who’s styling themselves and who’s been styled for the algorithm - it’s the difference between authenticity and arrangement.

And it’s not just about influencers. The industry feeds it. Brands chase metrics. Somewhere in all of that, we lost the human part - the quiet joy of getting dressed for yourself.

The Kind Of Style I Believe In

I’ll always champion individuality, whether that comes from a Savette bag, a Bode shirt, a top from Mango or something handmade and imperfect. I’m not precious about labels - I’m drawn to point of view. I’ve written before about craftsmanship and longevity, and those beliefs still hold.

The most stylish people I know aren’t trying to prove anything. They repeat outfits too. They invest in things that make sense for their lives. Their wardrobes evolve, but their essence stays the same. And that, to me, is the real goal: to dress like you know yourself, not like you’re auditioning for relevance.

And Lastly…

So, no - I don’t think everyone needs to love Jil Sander or Loewe, or care about fabrics and construction. But I do think we all benefit from stepping off the trend treadmill and asking what genuinely moves us.

Because at the end of the day, style should be about connection - not comparison.

Until next time…

Amrita x

Think of this as your cheat sheet - my personal list of affordable pieces that don’t scream high street, don’t wilt after two wears, and most importantly - don’t look like you’re desperately chasing a trend you found on TikTok at 3am.

This edit exists because not every outfit needs to cost as much as your rent. Because sometimes you want to save for the bag while still looking like the kind of person who casually owns five. And because, let’s be honest, hunting down affordable-but-elevated pieces is an underrated talent. (Some people play tennis. I play “find the Celine look for less than 300AED.”)

This isn’t about polyester knockoffs of things you’ve seen on Kendall Jenner. This is about vibe. Pieces that pass the “could this be The Row if I squint?” test. Items that wouldn’t look out of place sitting next to Dries or Toteme. Clean tailoring, subtle textures, the occasional splash of drama - minus the price tag.

The (Very Small) Edit

Here’s the thing: these are just some pieces I’ve clocked as actually wearable, affordable finds - the kind you can fold seamlessly into what you already own without anyone side-eyeing you. Because mixing high with low isn’t a crime, it’s a skill. And honestly? If you wear it right, no one’s ever going to know your skirt was 79AED unless you dramatically announce it at dinner. It doesn’t need to be some huge statement trend piece - sometimes its as subtle as a simple suede belt, or cleverly draped blouse. It’s not what you wear, it’s your essence and aura in it that makes it look stellar on you.

Linked: Oneness Serpent Skin Leather Blazer, COS Suede Clutch, Lefties Glossy Cami Top and matching skirt, Le Specs Tragic Magic Aviators, Lichi Cream Waisted Blazer, Source Unknown Beige Draped Collar Blouse, Mango Snake Heels, Misho Archer Pearl Hoops

Linked: Massimo Dutti Flowing Metallic Trousers, Limé Cape Detail Corset Style Top, Limé Suede Bowling Bag, H&M Studio Poplin Shirt, Le Scarf Red Paisley Scarf, ASOS Blue Mules, Mango Suede Belt, Mango White Clutch With Ball Detail, Massimo Dutti Leather Bermuda Shorts

A Small Note on Fast Fashion

I’ll say it once. Whilst not all the listed products are from “fast fashion” labels, this is not an invitation to buy 47 polyester tops just because they’re “cheap.” Quality over quantity still applies. Think of these finds as the clever, in-between moments in your wardrobe - the ones that free up your budget for investment pieces you’ll keep forever.

Fashion should be fun, not financially ruinous. Yes, it’s the affordable edit no one asked for but everyone wanted, but its also proof that you don’t need a trust fund to dress like you have one - just good eyes, better taste, and a refusal to settle for polyester pretending to be Prada.

Until next time,

Amrita x