There are many people who will tell you that being cool just doesn’t matter. That, while style might be a nice add-on, it’s really not something that you should be spending too much time thinking about. That appearances are fundamentally irrelevant.

But they are wrong. How things look and making places that are cool can be a positive, potent driver in everything from economics to architecture and urbanism. One place that seems to have cottoned on to this is New Zealand’s largest city.

Poor old Auckland has been the target of some rather waspish comments over the years. Travel writer Paul Theroux described arriving in the city a few decades ago as like “touching down on a distant star”. When former Singapore prime minister Lee Kuan Yew came to town in the 1990s, he’s said to have described Auckland as “shut”. Now, I’m sure that many Kiwis were indifferent to these arrows and the city was happy to be the urban equivalent of a dad in flares but other residents understood the damage that this inflicted – including a brain drain that saw numerous people leaving to find fun and opportunities in Sydney, London and Los Angeles. Change was needed and, over the past 20 years, the city has been rebuilt, with its post-industrial waterfront taken back for public use. As we go to press, it’s also preparing to open the largest infrastructure project in the country’s history.

The City Rail Link is New Zealand’s first underground metro system and comes with a series of beautiful stations that have been attracting thousands of visitors on special preview days. Its imminent unveiling was a good cue for us to send reporter Gordon Peake to assess how the city got its new look and how being a bit cooler is changing perceptions.

The often-surprising impact of beauty in the things that we build and make is a recurring idea in this issue. It certainly runs through a wonderful interview by Grace Charlton with Lebanon-born, Paris-based architect Lina Ghotmeh.

I first met Ghotmeh when she participated in our Quality of Life Conference in the French capital in 2022. I was transfixed by her ability to rise above the fray to talk about what architecture can do for people and countries; coming from a nation scarred by wars and infighting had clearly given her both clarity of thought and a determination to deliver change. It’s a mindset that has resulted in Ghotmeh winning competitions to design everything from a perfect factory (for Hermès) to national exhibition pavilions (for Bahrain at Expo 2025 in Osaka). Now, she’s redesigning the Western Range galleries of the British Museum in London that house objects from ancient Greece, Egypt and Rome.

Reading her interview, you will immediately sense her ability to harness design to deliver so much more than just an efficient exhibition space. “How do we allow a piece of architecture to become a place that builds our knowledge, that allows you to experience the work better but also to open up to dialogue?” she asks. “The museum is not a static place that just showcases objects from the past. It’s also a contemporary place that has to allow for debate and learning from our ancestors.” It’s designed as a Trojan horse to deliver big ideas that will stay with visitors forever.

Debate and learning have been common threads in Monocle since our launch in 2007 – the first issue went on sale on 14 February that year. Over the coming months, in the run-up to our 20th-anniversary celebrations, we will be putting the spotlight on some of our own history.

This month’s Expo pages document what has become a key part of our brand: our annual Quality of Life Conference, which this year unfolded in Lisbon. The event is the magazine brought to life; a display of all the topics that we care about but also a moment when we are able to underline some bigger ideas – that listening is good, that we can find some of the best answers in fields beyond our own. And that, yes, being cool can be a good thing.

If you would like to send me ideas, thoughts or style tips, I can always be found at [email protected]

Reference books, mood boards and small-scale models of buildings cover almost every inch of Lina Ghotmeh’s studio in Paris’s 11th arrondissement. The eclecticism on display reflects the Lebanese-born architect’s wide-ranging portfolio, which spans countries and typologies, from museums in Uzbekistan and Estonia to the Stone Garden residential tower in Beirut. Since founding her namesake practice in 2016, she has been celebrated for her culturally sensitive work.

It’s an approach that has won her prestigious commissions, such as London’s annual Serpentine Pavilion and a Hermès Workshop in Normandy (both of which were completed in 2023). On the horizon are two works that will cement Ghotmeh’s standing as one of the world’s most important contemporary architects: the new Western Range gallery at London’s British Museum and Qatar’s national pavilion in the Giardini della Biennale in Venice. The latter is the first permanent pavilion to be added to the gardens in 30 years and also the first to be designed by a woman. We sat down with Ghotmeh in the French capital to discuss the poetics of architecture, museums as spaces for dialogue and her advice for the next generation of designers.

You grew up in Beirut, where, as a child, you dreamt of becoming an archaeologist before turning your attention to architecture. How does your upbringing in a city that’s said to have been rebuilt seven times influence your work?
I was born there and lived in Lebanon until I moved to Paris at the age of 22. Growing up in a place like that teaches you about the meaning of architecture. In a war-torn city, building is an act of healing. It brings people together. It’s also about dealing with the scars of the past. The act becomes particularly meaningful – and this applies beyond the context of Beirut or Lebanon.

Beirut is a place that teaches you the importance of diversity and cultural richness because many people from different backgrounds and beliefs live there. There is a depth of history that gives you the capacity to deal with complexity and to embrace it as part of being human. That’s something that I cherish and apply in my architecture. It’s about understanding that life isn’t simple and trying to create projects that are a synthesis.

I have always been interested in archaeology. Beirut is like an open site. I think of architecture as a form of archaeology because you’re revealing what already exists, transforming it and giving it to the future. This links to ideas about the Earth and the environment. It involves amplifying the present reality and allowing it to ripple into what comes next, as well as how you connect to a place and what it gives you. It’s about trying to be innovative, original or unique too – but rooted in a location. When something is both anchored and has a sense of novelty, it’ll be able to withstand time.

In your studio, there are mood boards, models and reference books everywhere. Research is evidently intrinsic to your practice. When you receive a new commission, where do you start?
A love of culture and diversity is part of my upbringing, nourished by my travels and projects, as well as the opportunities that emerge along the way. I always listen to a place, rather than imposing a way of doing things. Of course, the process of thinking about a place creates a certain poetics of architecture. Building emerges from empathy. The research process starts with those questions: where are we building? What’s the culture? What’s the history? This interest and care for others helps us to understand these issues.

When I’m working in Japan, for example, I try to understand the local customs, materials and resources. I’m very sensitive to beauty, to the way that things are put together, to craft. Projects start to echo their environment. There’s no single starting point and there are multiple questions. I advocate for a design process that isn’t linear. I’m currently working on a nature observatory in Toyama. I began by asking myself, “What is an observatory?” In Japan, observatories look like temples; they emerge vertically. In this case, the resource is wood and the context is nature. To materialise these ideas, I’m constantly sketching. A building then starts to become material.

Finally, architecture is linked to how we live. It should embrace people and bring extraordinary beauty in various ways. Everything emerges from this relationship to living and using architecture as a way of encountering, of fostering togetherness and of bettering our lives.

You recently won the competition to redesign the Western Range galleries of the British Museum in London. These house objects from ancient Greece, Egypt and Rome. How have you decided to approach this commission?
It’s a fantastic project because the collection of the Western Range represents a big part of our world. A key question is, “How can architecture be a vessel that helps to amplify the collection?” We also need to allow for relevance, the need to bring a contemporary aspect. Think of the mausoleum of Halicarnassus in Bodrum [a tomb adorned with sculptural reliefs, built around 350 BCE] or other major objects of that kind. At the time they were produced, they were contemporary. And they still have that resonance.

So how do we allow a piece of architecture to become a place that builds our knowledge, that allows people to experience the work better – but also to open up to dialogue? The museum is not a static place that just showcases objects from the past. It’s also a contemporary place that has to allow for debate and learning from our ancestors.

I love to work on museums because of the cultural realms that they open up. For example, the Estonian National Museum in Tartu is connected to an ex-Soviet military airfield. I learnt about the country’s history, objects related to its Finno-Ugric culture and how these were collected during different occupations. A museum is an incubator of culture, where cinema and books are produced, where conservation takes place.

At the moment, we’re working on the Jadids’ Legacy Museum in Uzbekistan, which is an existing house that we are transforming. Through the heritage of the building, we’re learning about the history of the Jadid movement in the country and the richness of Bukhara. A museum is fascinating as a typology. Its role is to bring us closer to our humanity, which is especially important because of the growth of artificial intelligence and the digital world. How do we establish places of dialogue, debate and critical thinking at a time of so much polarisation?

You have also worked on temporary pavilions, including the Serpentine Pavilion in London and the Bahrain Pavilion at the 2025 Expo in Osaka. What is it like to build with ephemerality in mind?
You can experiment more in terms of shapes and forms. The temporary nature of a pavilion means that you have to build with a light carbon footprint. I love the idea of something light that barely sits in its place. The Serpentine Pavilion felt like a spider or a floating leaf. In Osaka, our pavilion had a sense of movement, like a boat. You entered this big hall, with stretched fabric backlit like a washi lantern. Though the canvas is sturdy, in architecture, there are ways to experiment with lightness through ephemeral materials that bring a sense of fragility.

You also won a competition to design Qatar’s permanent pavilion in Venice’s Giardini della Biennale. This is the first time in 30 years that a new pavilion has been added to the gardens and the first time that a woman has been its architect. What can you tell us about this project?
It’s a permanent pavilion representing Qatar, built with stone. It’s important to have an Arab voice in the Giardini at this moment; we need to have a diversity of voices. All of these layers of meaning are fantastic and the pavilion is positioned as a stage to allow people to gather and convene. It’s a generous space where you can meet inside but also on the roof of the structure. A pavilion in the Giardini is a unique place where architecture and art coexist to reflect our times. For Qatar, it’s about its history and how it emerged on water, while Venice also sits on water.

You’re Lebanese and based in Paris but working internationally, representing Bahrain and Qatar with national pavilions. How do you meld these different international identities in your practice?
Boundaries are what humans impose. What is nationality? I’m more interested in how people are enriched by porosity. It’s scientifically known that the more we mix and cross-pollinate, the more we advance. It’s essential to our humanity to have this openness and allow for a relational approach in architecture. There’s a need for relationships between different places. Architecture is a wonderful field because it allows you to speak those different languages through one language: space. When we think about culture, it’s always linked to geography. Mediterranean people are similar to one another. Maybe if you’re an island person, you have similar traits to someone else living on an island. If we’re different from one another or have enriching specificities, they’re linked to our geographies and to our climate – not the lines that we draw on maps.

For me, being based in Paris matters and doesn’t matter at the same time. I love the city and its history, its elegance. There’s an attachment to heritage, to human values. I grew up in Lebanon, which was a French mandate, so I feel this relationship too – but I’m always critical. All of this relates to how you embody the place where you work. At the same time, as I’m working everywhere, I feel like I belong to Japan, to Qatar.

You’ve given lectures at Yale and the University of Toronto, and you were appointed the Kenzo Tange professor at Harvard. What advice do you have for the next generation of architects?
The challenge is how to build knowledge. With AI, for instance, you might have a question and it has only one answer for you – but the world doesn’t have one answer. There are many different ways to answer a question and to sit with the multiplicity. It requires creativity and opening your mind to different perspectives that allow you to work with contradiction. I’m not against technology or AI but they’re only tools.

The second challenge is patience. Architecture needs a lot of it. While AI can give you instant answers, building something takes time. Even if we have developments in robotics or 3D printing, it still takes time to build. How do you deal with this when everything moves so fast? How can younger generations keep that patience? There’s no immediate gratification but you have to dream. You need to be grounded but remain an eternal optimist, despite being aware of the challenges of your time.

“This is the quietest that these places will ever be,” says Malgorzata Haley, a principal at architecture firm Grimshaw, as she guides Monocle through Te Waihorotiu station in Auckland. She is leading us on a tour of the City Rail Link (CRL), New Zealand’s first underground metro system, ahead of its opening on 13 September. The NZ$5.5bn (€2.8bn) network is one of New Zealand’s largest-ever infrastructure projects. When it’s running, its stations will link up with the wider rapid-transit network across the country’s largest city, whose area is greater than Tokyo prefecture. Haley describes the CRL as the missing piece of the jigsaw: its opening is intended to signal that Auckland is no longer a dowdy backwater.

Polish-born Haley is the local project’s design lead and can rattle off statistics about how the CRL will improve connection times. But she knows that the value of a project of this kind can’t be measured in numbers alone. “I have seen this city grow a lot in my time here,” says Haley, who relocated here in 2014. The arrival of the metro adds momentum to a broader campaign to bring a new buzz to Auckland that is already working. Young Kiwis are being persuaded to stay, while those who are slogging it out overseas are seeing enough reasons to return home.

Among the returnees is Paul Keating, a former senior official at the UN who now leads engagement on public policy for a large US company. Keating is among those helping the city to staunch New Zealand’s perennial brain drain – nationwide departures fell by 5 per cent last year, though 16 per cent of Kiwi citizens still live overseas – while drawing in foreign talent. “Auckland is home to many multinational companies that lap up international expertise,” says Keating. “There’s a lot of interesting work here.”

In 2025, Auckland had the largest net migration gain of any region in New Zealand and has become a beacon of opportunity for the wider South Pacific (its population of about 275,000 Pacific people makes it the largest Polynesian city in the world). Islanders come here for better-paid jobs, as well as the excitement and opportunities that come with living in a large, multicultural metropolis.

It wasn’t always this way. Travel writer Paul Theroux described arriving in Auckland in the early 1990s as like “touching down on a distant star”. An old joke goes that of its many roads, the best ones are those that take you out. “It’s bloody hard to change a narrative about a city,” says Ludo Campbell-Reid, who was Auckland’s inaugural “design champion” and worked for city hall from 2006 to 2019. Campbell-Reid, who offers consulting services to unloved cities worldwide, tells Monocle that when he initially arrived, apathy and indifference were pervasive. “People just didn’t think that the city could ever be cool,” he says. As befits a man who brands himself as a “city doctor”, he recommended the urban equivalent of open-heart surgery.

His team’s first intervention was to unblock much of the city centre’s transport arteries by introducing new pedestrianised “shared spaces”, building more bike lanes and reducing Aucklanders’ dependence on cars. Business owners and residents funded the moves through the City Centre Targeted Rate – a special property charge whose proceeds are used to fund urban renewal. Today an area that once emptied out on weekends is abuzz, while the number of people cycling in Auckland has grown by 5 per cent every year on average since 2023. That was tough enough, reflects Campbell-Reid, but relatively simple compared to his next challenge: an even more radical incision in a part of the city that was in very poor health.

Before the 2010s, Auckland Waterfront was a post-industrial nightmare, dotted with concrete silos and dominated by a contaminated petrochemical facility known simply as the “Tank Farm”. Only the foolhardy would linger on its streets or swim in its waters. If you walk around the neighbourhood now, you’ll find it hard to imagine that such a place ever existed.

Today the Waterfront is one of Auckland’s most desirable areas, with some of the highest property prices in a city known for its expensive real estate. One new development, The Villard in Wynyard Quarter, has an entry price of NZ$5.4m (€2.7m), rising to NZ$29m (€14.7m) for a sub-penthouse. A few concrete silos remain but now serve as symbols of change around which have sprung scattered basketball courts, bars, night markets and, in the summer months, an open-air cinema. Despite this cultural efflorescence, some industry remains on the waterfront, including shipbuilding services and Titan Marine Engineering, a thriving repair business.

The Waterfront also nods to the deep relationship that Auckland’s Maori communities have with the area. Since the Treaty of Waitangi, signed with the British in 1840, the Maori have had historic and customary rights over land in New Zealand but generations of planners sidelined them for much of the city’s 180-year history. Campbell-Reid tells Monocle that celebrating Maori culture was a key factor in Auckland’s revitalisation, giving it a unique pull that no other city can match. Nowadays consultation with clans known as the mana whenua is standard practice for both Auckland Council and businesses. “We need to see our faces in the city’s stories too,” says Lucy Tukua, a member of the council’s Urban Design Panel, as she takes Monocle on a tour of the Waterfront.

In this diffuse city, neighbourhoods once felt isolated from one another but recent projects such as the Waterfront revitalisation are filling in the gaps. Waitemata CRL station connects with the new stops. The area’s apartment buildings become glitzier the closer you get to the city centre. Those in the shadow of the CBD’s skyscrapers look out onto a marina where superyachts are moored. Nearby is an area for swimmers willing to brave the Pacific chill. Known affectionately as Browny’s Pool, this facility, which hosts frequent “dive-bombing” competitions, in which thrill-seekers jump off a set of platforms into the blue, has become an unlikely attraction. “You should give it a go,” says Gyles Bendall, Auckland Council’s head of design.

Two stops along from the Waterfront is Karangahape Road (commonly known as K’ Road), Auckland’s bohemian heart. At Bestie, one of its many independent cafés, nestled at the back of a Victorian arcade, Monocle meets 19-year-old fine art student Ngaio Dawson, who is drinking a matcha latte. Dawson moved to this city from Christchurch in the country’s south. “I can’t ever imagine being bored here,” she says. Isn’t she planning to join the ranks of Kiwis moving overseas? “Why would I?” she asks. “I have everything here.”

Jonah Merchant runs a renowned music venue in the neighbourhood called Neck of the Woods. Despite his natural optimism, the 54-year-old admits that recent times haven’t been easy. His business had to close for two years because of New Zealand’s coronavirus lockdowns, which were among the longest lasting in the world. Now that it’s back open, Merchant has an unusual sort of drinking problem: too few of his customers are buying alcoholic beverages. This, he feels, is partly attributable to the fact that Aucklanders often have to drive long distances home. The high cost of living also makes going out a luxury. The CRL, which will have a fare cap of NZ$50 (€25.30) a week, will help to solve both of these problems.

Merchant has seen K’ Road transform from a sleepy neighbourhood into arguably the South Pacific’s most lively urban hub. For him, Auckland has all of the ingredients to keep growing. “This city is a crazy melting pot of cultures, jammed onto this weird little isthmus between two seas,” he says. “We’re small enough that somehow we all seem to know each other but big enough, creative enough and diverse enough to consistently punch above our weight.”

Up the line from K’ Road and at the border of the CBD is Uptown, a neighbourhood that aims to experience the same kind of transformation. Business owners here hope that its new station, called Maungawhau, will bring in more visitors. Brent Kennedy is the head of the Uptown Business Association and a former advertising man with a long stint in Japan under his belt. He is effusive about the economic dividends that the CRL could unlock, citing the 10,000 people who showed up for a first look at the new station at an open day in August. Kennedy says that grumbles about cost and the 10 years that it took to complete the project are starting to quieten. “It will just get people around the city more quickly,” he says. During the bad, old days of traffic gridlock, many were apprehensive about bar hopping or exploring the neighbourhood. “Now, with the rail link, you could have a drink on the Waterfront and then hop on a train to see a gig in K’ Street,” he says. One of the lines at Maungawhau station runs to south Auckland, where about a quarter of the city’s residents live. Until now, getting back there at night entailed a long ride on the bus or an expensive taxi ride.

While most Aucklanders, particularly business owners, are enthusiastic about the metro project, there are some who remain sceptical. One online wag suggested that all the talk about the CRL reflects the fact that there’s so little else going on in the city. Meanwhile, researchers have raised doubts about whether transport-planning and urban-development objectives have been sufficiently meshed to allow the project to fulfil its potential. In a recent report, Thomas Nash, who provides advice to cities, regions and businesses on transport and infrastructure, observed that most new homes in Auckland are not actually being built in rapid transit catchments. He observed that only one CRL station has a transit-oriented development plan in place. To prevent excitement about the new infrastructure from ebbing away, the next stage in Auckland’s journey must be to put schools, hospitals, shops, bars and restaurants around or near the circumference of those stations.

Like many New World cities, Auckland feels like both a fixed settlement and an ever-evolving experiment. For decades, it seemed comfortable with its reputation as a naturally blessed but culturally bereft city at the edge of the globe. But an influx of foreigners – 43 per cent of its residents were born overseas – and a burst of ambition from city hall have combined to create something exciting.

“Auckland is one of the most instructive laboratories for contemporary city-making in the world,” says Campbell-Reid. It also represents an antidote to the pessimism of naysayers elsewhere who don’t believe that their hometowns can be turned around. The city has come a long way from feeling “like East Berlin”, as journalist Simon Wilson once described it. New developments such as the CRL will only take it further along the line towards regeneration.

Dear reader, my name is Pablo and I am Monocle’s man about town. I’m a gent for all seasons and have a wardrobe that always comes to my rescue, whatever the occasion. I never have a hair out of place (unless tousled is what I’m after) and am ever the dress-code nailer. Monocle’s editors have asked me to impart some sartorial rules to play by for six given situations – including what you’ll need to see you through a weekend away, a sport session (I always like to keep things nice and firm) and a day out in the city.

From the basics to set you up for the day to the white suit and leather-sole dancing shoes that will see you through the night, my rules for getting dressed pair common sense with recommendations for the brands that you need to know – usually picked up on my travels to Bangkok, Paris, Lisbon and Tokyo.

If there’s a connecting line in my approach to getting dressed, it’s investing wisely in well-made clothes that will last a lifetime. That is, admittedly, not ground-breaking advice. But it’s worth reminding yourself of this when the temptation to totally overhaul your wardrobe takes hold. Personal style is an art form that requires honesty and self-reflection. Is the shoulder on that white T-shirt as flattering as it could be? Do I have what it takes to pull off those shorts? Almost certainly… but it’s worth considering.

And never lose sight of wearability. Beautiful loafers will lose their appeal if they make you hobble. I’m also a believer in the idea that good clothes are not the main event but rather a support system for a life well lived. At its best, getting dressed is the first step in a day that is packed with places to be and people to see. Ready? Let’s go.

---

Style tip 1: Perfect your basics

Starting from a strong foundation is key. Nailing socks, undies and beauty-cabinet essentials – unsung heroes all – requires as discerning an eye as it takes to pick out a statement coat.

Keep it brief
Briefs or Y-fronts offer anatomical support and natural alignment without compression. Mey’s pants bring German engineering to the undergarment.

Cabinet of curiosities
Skincare products are as close to five-star treatment as I can get at 08.00. Chanel for fragrance and Nivea for deodorant is a fool-proof high-low combination

---

Style tip 2: Look the business

The investors are in town so be ready. People often suggest starting with trousers and building an outfit from there – but where’s the fun in that? Pick a shirt and keep the slacks lacking for now. It’s showtime.

Get steamy
No, not like that. Ironing or steaming is the most effective way to elevate your outfit. Swedish brand Steamery makes a packable version that cleans your clothes while making them crisp.

Tailor made
Let’s hear it for bespoke. My suit by Swedish atelier Saman Amel is second to none.

Blazer glory
For something off the peg, the Ring Jacket from The Armoury or United Arrows’ double-breasted mohair never miss.

Watch your step
If you’re pounding the pavement and your city doesn’t have clear skies, opt for a rubber sole. JM Weston’s 180 is best for a polished look, though I do have a penchant for a Paraboot lace-up.

---

Style tip 3: Sportswear essentials for your kit bag

How can you look dashing on a run? Ask yourself what you’re running from (a poorly dressed version of yourself is an excellent motivator). So before you get into your stride, let’s consider the following.

---

Style tip 4: How to pack at pace

Time for a change of scene. I’m an advocate for life on the move – it keeps things interesting. When it comes to packing for a sunny escape, don’t overthink things. My list strips it all back to the basics.

Compact case
Having a well-stocked toiletry bag at the ready is the first step to a successful pack. I opt for a leather number by Viennese brand R Horns.

Full look
The combination of a white T-shirt from Kotn, cord shorts from La Paz and sandals from Hender Scheme is a winner. For trunks, it has to be Ripa Ripa.

Pack it in
My suitcase of choice is by Japanese brand Proteca, for its 360-degree opening system. Packing light is the only option – no more than what fits into an overhead compartment, please.

---

Style tip 5: Feel at ease in the city

You might not have an occasion to dress up for this weekend but being on home turf is no excuse for looking slapdash. You don’t know who you’ll meet or what’s to come. Let’s hit the town.

Dream coat
A good blouson jacket will go the distance with you. Mine’s a cashmere piece from Zegna in a fetching tan, though I have a dark indigo suede version too.

Selvedge the situation
Kaptain Sunshine is known for its outerwear but its denim is overlooked. It’s an everyday staple only matched by Luca Faloni’s cashmere weave jeans.

Good in the hood
Was your jumper made on a tsuriamiki? I bet it wasn’t. The best sweatshirts are made by Loopwheeler on rare Japanese knitting machines that create soft, tubular fabrics.

---

Style tip 6: Life of the party

It’s time to cut loose – you deserve it. You don’t need a wardrobe overhaul every time you step out for the night. Sometimes, all it takes is a subtle change of sole or colour to achieve the right effect.

Dancing shoes
The right footwear helps me on the dance floor. It has to be JM Weston again – but now with a leather sole.

Monocle’s annual edit of seasonal essentials and the names to know will prepare you for the coming months, whether that means a sharp new jacket, a heritage shoemaker’s latest release or a rising label worth watching.

---

1.
The travel jacket
William Frederick, USA

Designer William McNicol, who founded his brand William Frederick in 2018, champions US manufacturing heritage. The label makes elevated workwear inspired by silhouettes of the American heartland – think baseball caps, ringer T-shirts and office-ready shirts – in Cleveland, New York, Detroit and Long Island. This aptly named lightweight cotton-and-linen Airport jacket features corozo buttons, plus a double-welt pocket deep enough to hold a passport. Its functional design will keep you organised on the move.
williamfrederickclothing.com

---

2.
The rising independent
Suntosons, UK

South London’s Suntosons, founded in 2025 and open to visitors only by appointment, is an independent retailer of emerging menswear brands, as well as its own namesake label. Japan-born, London-based Keita Hiraoka (formerly of Beams Japan and a buyer at Trunk) reimagines staples such as poplin shirts and relaxed chinos. Much of its first collection is inspired by vintage pieces in Hiraoka’s wardrobe and produced by Japanese clothes makers. “We adjust them in a way that feels right for today’s lifestyle,” says Hiraoka. This dark-khaki fatigue jacket is made from heavyweight Japanese denim that’s given a gentle wash for a lived-in finish.
suntosons.com

---

3.
Suave eyewear
Paloceras, Finland

Paloceras, which was founded in 2022 by Mika Matikainen and Alexis Perron-Corriveau, makes colourful eyewear designed in Helsinki and made in Finland and Shenzhen. “Glasses sit somewhere between fashion accessory, industrial product and medical device,” says Matikainen. The brand makes frames using layered acetate. “A green might take on a champagne hue; pink turns into yellow.”
paloceras.com

---

4.
The instant classic
Hermès, France

The French luxury house’s newest addition to its range of bags is this leather Clou de Forge piece. First unveiled in March at the Hermès autumn/winter 2026 womenswear show in Paris, it discreetly nods to the brand’s 19th-century origins in crafting high-end harnesses and saddles for horses. Made using structured calf leather, the front-flap design is embellished with distinctive metal clasps – a direct reference to the brand’s horseshoe-shaped Clou de Forge bangle. The metal detailing has been reinterpreted as hardware by the Hermès director of womenswear, Nadège Vanhée, providing extra edge to this sleek yet sturdy accessory.
hermes.com

---

5.
The creative director
Sage Toda-Nation, YMC, UK

YMC is celebrating 30 years since its first collection. Sage Toda-Nation joined the London-based brand as creative director in 2024 after the death of Fraser Moss, YMC’s co-founder. He and surviving co-founder Jimmy Collins have stuck to the brand’s spirit during a challenging time. Now settled in his role, Toda-Nation tells us about what’s next.

What is your creative process?
I’ll build a mood board and look at a lot of styles from early YMC. This season, the musician Arthur Russell and the band Suicide were muses.

What does YMC represent today, as opposed to 30 years ago?
I have seen how the founders’ aesthetic evolved from when they started in their twenties. A lot of the early designs were made in London. Everyone was partying, everyone was super-skinny – the older samples are absolutely tiny. But we have evolved with the customer and brought in new ones since I joined.

And your ambitions for the brand?
The name is so respected but we haven’t grown into the business that I think we should be. We could have a much bigger impact – and on a global scale.
youmustcreate.com

---

6.
The shirtmaker
Charvet, France

Autumn means a return to work – and there’s nothing like a sharp Charvet shirt to smarten up your office wardrobe. This one comes with the Chanel seal of approval: the luxury fashion house acquired France’s oldest shirtmaker in July. On a visit to the Paris shop on Place Vendôme, the brand’s sibling co-directors Jean-Claude and Anne-Marie Colban welcome us into the colourful world of Charvet, with its shirts in pastel hues and crisp whites. “It’s important to touch the fabrics, look at the colours and put them next to your face,” says Anne-Marie. While a return to formal workwear is welcome, ties and all, Jean-Claude believes that a button-up suits every occasion. “There are so many ways of wearing a shirt, whether with jeans or a suit,” he says.
charvet.com

---

7.
The shop refresh
Casey/Casey, France

Parisian label Casey/Casey has reinvented its 7th-arrondissement shop with local designer Simon Chaouat. “I simply wanted a change,” says founder Gareth Casey. Whitewashed floors and raw-plaster walls frame furniture and objects gathered over time. The approach mirrors the label’s clothes, with fabrics washed, dyed and finished by hand. “Nothing too polished, nothing too finished,” says Casey.
caseycasey.eu

---

8.
The alpine touch
Maison Douillet, France

Though it’s based in the 11th arrondissement of Paris, Maison Douillet is a brand that draws its inspiration directly from the French Alps. Founded in 2021 by Isère-born brothers Clément and Germain Douillet, the label creates a limited range of unisex, ready-to-wear clothes that are made from high-density natural fibres, including hemp, linen and wool. With a focus on localised production, the Douillets work with suppliers based across France, Italy and Austria. The result are pieces such as loosely cut jackets with utilitarian pockets or this checkered cotton-and-linen gilet with a rounded collar that evokes autumnal walks in the French mountains yet would look equally at home on a Parisian terrace.
douillet.com

---

9.
The retail hub
Friend Friend, Thailand

Friend Friend sits in the former car park of Bangkok shopping mall Emporium. It was founded in summer 2025 by Suchada Peanpiriya, Worapun Sinakhom and Tanchanok Thitisaksakul, who met while working for Emporium’s owner, The Mall Group. Friend Friend offers retail, dining and workshops that cover everything from pasta-making to gardening. Products include bowls by Aoon Pottery (a ceramic studio in Bangkok’s old Chinatown), handmade combs by British hairbrush manufacturer Kent and contemporary tableware from Japan’s Sekisaka.
622 Sukhumvit Road, Bangkok 10110

---

10.
The new minimalism
Ain Amor, Germany

Ain Amor is a new label under the creative direction of Sophia Lewis, who cut her teeth at Jil Sander under the tutelage of Sander herself. At Ain Amor, Lewis is creating minimalist staples for both men and women. Trench coats and shearling jackets are reversible and include details such as detachable lapels and hoods. “We invite the consumer to make some design decisions,” says Lewis. Collections are made in Romania – an increasingly important luxury production hub – using European and Japanese textiles such as cashmere-wool blends for coats and organic cotton for trousers. These are cut into garments with a looser, unisex fit. “You can share a piece with your partner and each of you wears it in different ways,” adds Lewis.
ainamor.com

---

11.
Elevated outerwear
Ten C × Comoli, Japan

The quietest garment in the room often has the most to prove. A case in point is this field jacket, the result of a collaboration between Italian outerwear house Ten C and Japanese label Comoli. “When a garment says so little, every proportion, texture and detail has to be right,” says Federico Melchioli, the creative lead behind the collaboration. This jacket is cut from Ten C’s signature Original Japanese Jersey (OJJ), a fabric that softens in humidity and firms up in dry air. It has been tailored by Comoli to offer a more fit-driven style. Elsewhere, the two brands’ signature fabrics meet in a reversible suit, with Comoli’s cotton flannel on one face and Ten C’s OJJ and crinkle nylon on the other. Each element of this wider nine-piece collection comes in black. “Black removes the noise and lets the shapes, surfaces and construction speak,” says Melchioli.
tenc.com; comoli.jp

---

12.
Essential accessories
Éternel Parisien, France

As its name suggests, accessories brand Éternel Parisien draws inspiration from the city in which it’s based to create leather goods and silk scarves. “French style is not too ostentatious,” says the brand’s founder (and former Balmain and Jean-Paul Gaultier employee) Gilles Rosier. “But there’s also this couldn’t-care-less attitude that makes it sophisticated.” This dark-green leather tote bag is named Beauvau, after the public square in the 8th arrondissement. One of Éternel Parisien’s bestsellers is the Montebello wine-bottle holder – a reference to the quay on the Left Bank where Parisians can often be found enjoying an apéritif on a sunny day. “I’m inspired by the French art of living,” adds Rosier. “I like to play with the snobbish side of the Parisian too.”
eternelparisien.fr

---

13.
The high-street find
Uniqlo, Japan

It’s hard to ignore Uniqlo’s dominant position in the fashion world. With a total revenue of ¥3.9trn (€20.8bn) forecast for this year, the retailer is competing with high-street giants such as Swedish behemoth H&M Group and Inditex, the Galician owner of Zara and Massimo Dutti. Quality comes first for Uniqlo, as demonstrated by its new padded blouson. Available in autumnal tones, this versatile, boxy basic is perfect for transitioning seasons, while its subtle checked lining reinforces the Japanese brand’s eye for detail.
uniqlo.com

---

14.
The natural designer
Jiyong Kim, South Korea

Seoul-based designer Jiyong Kim uses sun, wind and rain – rather than chemicals – to create a patina on one-of-a-kind pieces. His clothing is sold at Dover Street Market in Paris and Singapore, 10 Corso Como in Seoul and GR8 in Tokyo. “People would see timeworn garments as having lost value – I saw the opposite,” says Kim, who studied in Tokyo and London, then worked at Louis Vuitton and Lemaire in Paris. He launched his label in 2021, was a 2024 LVMH Prize semi-finalist and appeared as guest designer at Pitti Immagine Uomo in Florence. This season, he introduces light-responsive fabrics. “Rather than trying to control every outcome, we respect nature’s unpredictability,” he says.
jiyongkim.net

---

15.
The tastemaker
Yuki Matsuda, Japan/USA

Yuki Matsuda is a Japanese-born designer who is best known for founding Meg Company. Established in 1989, the California-based studio houses his four brands (Monitaly, Yuketen, Chamula and Epperson Mountaineering) that blend American workwear with Japanese craftsmanship.

What differentiates your brands?
Monitaly is the clothing that I need for the way that I want to dress. Yuketen is about making shoes that are better than anything I had ever worn. Chamula is a brand that deeply values craft and folk art, especially from Mexico. Epperson Mountaineering is classic American outdoor pieces.

How do your roots influence your creative process in reinterpreting American vintage?
After the war, Japan learnt many things from the United States – both good and bad. My generation, born in the 1960s, was deeply influenced by American culture. In Japanese, we have a phrase, wayo setchu, that means mixing Japanese and Western elements. For me, that feels completely natural.

Could you offer an example?
We looked at old jeans and discovered that the fabric, stitching and fading changed depending on when they were made. My generation of collectors and designers understood the value of the differences emerging with time and created the category of “vintage denim”, which the whole world now appreciates.
megcompany.com

---

16.
For the outdoor
Nappa Dori, India

New Delhi-based label Nappa Dori’s Arc Pack 01 bag combines sleek accessibility with the charm of old-world hiking clobber. Made from a hardy nylon and with a mesh zipper pocket for secure storage, it’s a take that the brand has dubbed “Indian minimalism”. The small sling bag is a harmonious example of form and function meeting for a day’s hike. But Nappa Dori’s design, which was initially made for meandering along country trails, really comes into its own in urban landscapes, where the heft of a typical hiking bag is reduced to the bare essentials of what can be easily wielded within its zipped pockets.
nappadori.com

---

17.
Cyclists’ choice
Ketta, Japan

Ketta is a new Japanese brand giving cyclists smart solutions for their daily commute. Founded in Gifu, Ketta means “bicycle” in a dialect from the Tokai region. Suit trousers feature natty fasteners to prevent cuffs from becoming caught in bike gears, while this hooded jacket will protect from the elements in style. Its blend of functionality and formality will carry you seamlessly from bike to boardroom.
hirota-ap.com/ketta

---

18.
The fit-first label
Recto, South Korea

When designer Ji Yeon Jung launched Recto in 2015, her aim was to create womenswear that “felt both refined and easy to wear every day”. With an emphasis on fit and fabrics, Recto took a unisex approach to tailoring and utilitarian outerwear until Jung introduced a menswear line in 2021. Recto is now a go-to for tuck-pleat trousers, boxy shirts and loose-fit blazers. Next, the brand is moving into China and Japan. “Our goal is for our customers to be able to discover Recto in environments that reflect our identity,” says Jung.
recto.co

---

19.
The mountain coat
Weekend Max Mara × Robert Rabensteiner, Italy

A stylist and former editor at large for L’Uomo Vogue, Robert Rabensteiner is behind this autumnal collection for Italian label Weekend Max Mara, titled Into the Forest. As its name suggests, the collection draws inspiration from woodland walks, while retaining a city-appropriate feel for those who like to escape to the mountains on a Friday after work. True to Rabensteiner’s style, the collection favours clean, classical silhouettes, with bold colours and opulent textiles such as silk and wool.
weekendmaxmara.com

---

20.
A last look
Alaïa, France

This coat is part of Pieter Mulier’s last collection at Alaïa after a five-year stint in which the French fashion house’s profits soared and its retail footprint increased almost fourfold. Mulier’s final show took place in March at the Fondation Cartier in Paris and served as a homage to everything that he learnt throughout his tenure at Alaïa. As the first designer to lead the brand after the passing of its founder, Azzedine Alaïa, Mulier’s architectural approach to fashion design is defined by draping, cascading fabrics referred to by the designer as “clothes that cry”. As one chapter closes, another one begins: Mulier’s debut as the creative director of Versace is due to take place in February.
maison-alaia.com

---

21.
New name to know
Amayi, UK

In her London showroom, Zimbabwe-born Joanna Masiyiwa welcomes customers looking for colourful womenswear, from patterned silk dresses to beaded bags. Since launching Amayi earlier this year, she has worked with ateliers from Poland to India to release limited-edition collections. “There’s nothing like knowing that you’re one of the few people to own something,” she says. “It took time to articulate this concept to people who could help bring it to life.”
amayilondon.com

---

22.
The heritage hero
Church’s, UK

If the sudden arrival of inclement weather has you dodging puddles and dashing for shelter, you’re probably wearing the wrong shoes. These leather Shefford boots by Prada-owned, Northamptonshire-based shoemaker Church’s feature a hardy rubber sole and hook eyelets for laces inspired by Alpine footwear. The padded tongue, contrast stitching and high-top profile add up to a piece built to see you through the colder seasons. We’re particularly fond of this forest-green version.
church-footwear.com

---

23.
The comfort shoe
Sanders, UK

English legacy label Sanders, which has been around since 1873, has created curling boots in homage to Jämtland, the Swedish province known for skiing and Sámi culture. These shearling-lined numbers – crafted from premium water-resistant suede, with a sturdy crepe sole – are more than a match for winter.
sanders-uk.com

---

24.
The menswear switch-up
Toteme, Sweden

Toteme, known for luxe womenswear, has expanded into men’s clothing. Co-founder Karl Lindman says that it was time to broaden the Stockholm label, 12 years since he launched it with Elin Kling. “We’re working with suppliers who can offer high-quality fabrications and authentic details that will appeal to a sophisticated menswear customer,” Lindman explains. The collection includes a cream shearling-lined parka inspired by Swedish army jackets and a cashmere scarf-collar cardigan. “The purity of the palette, the weight of the knitwear, the sense of pragmatism – those Swedish elements are in conversation,” he adds.
toteme.com

---

25.
The folk hero
Samuel Snider, USA

American folk craft found in New England’s antique shops inspires Samuel Snider, who recently relaunched his brand. “In a world of algorithms and everything feeling the same, you have this little corner of treasures,” says Snider, who divides his time between New York and Maine. His clothing, produced in New York’s Garment District, pairs clean, timeless silhouettes with Irish tweed, Italian cotton, hemp yarn and British waxed cotton to stand the test of time. “My connection to pieces from the past has made me think of the future,” he adds.
samuelsnider.com

---

Stylist: Kyoko Tamoto
Hair & make-up: Liz Daxauer
Models: Finley Graham, Takayuki Suzuki, Christina Teufel

“When you come to Venice, it’s the landscape and the views that you’re after,” says Pierre-Yves Rochon, the Paris-and-Chicago-based architect behind the recent transformation of the city’s storied Danieli hotel. “I sat on the building’s roof terrace and saw the blues of the sky and the water, and the golds at sunset. I decided to bring them inside for guests.”

The Danieli, just steps from Piazza San Marco, has long embodied La Serenissima’s historical pomp and grandeur. When Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts announced its renovation in 2022, some fretted about the centuries-old landmark’s fate. They needn’t have worried. The grande dame has undergone a meticulous restoration in which baroque tropes (think dark interiors and heavy burgundy velvet) have been traded for the lightness of the city’s lagoon and sky.

“It’s still classical and still Venice,” says Rochon. “But it’s a fresher interpretation.” For the architect, a project of such scale and ambition is nothing new. He has worked with the Four Seasons group on flagship fit-outs in Florence, Paris and Milan – but this project is particularly notable for the way that it captures a sense of place.

The Danieli’s guest rooms reflect the painterly palette that inspired the old masters: soft pastel satins, pale wood and watery blues. It’s the Venice of Canaletto transformed into light-filled spaces and sky-coloured furnishings. The city’s time-honoured crafts are key to the details, such as the classic damasks that line the walls, woven by Venetian firm Rubelli.

The canals and the old structure of the Danieli’s palazzo added to the restoration’s complexity. Just as visitors to Venice get around by boat, every mattress, reupholstered chair and air-conditioning duct for the hotel had to be transported by water, with pieces lifted through the gothic window frames by a floating crane. That’s one reason why the renovation took three years to complete.

The gothic Palazzo Dandolo was completed at the end of the 15th century as the home of a family that gave Venice several doges. In 1822, Italian entrepreneur Giuseppe Dal Niel converted it into the Danieli (the local pronunciation of his name), creating one of Venice’s first grand hotels. At the heart of the city, just one bridge from the Doge’s Palace, the Danieli later expanded into two neighbouring palazzos from the 19th and 20th centuries. Its lavish interiors and prime position drew guests including Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Lord Byron, Marcel Proust, Greta Garbo and Grace Kelly. But by the time Four Seasons took the tiller, its lustre had faded.

Entering the waterfront lobby today feels like stepping into another era. The concierge’s dark desk welcomes guests with a wall of brass keys. The reception opens onto the palatial lounge of Bar Dandolo, with its vast, stained-glass windows, Corinthian columns, rainbow-tinged Murano-glass chandeliers and soaring ceiling of gilded quatrefoils. When Monocle visits, a few craftspeople are busy applying the final sheaves of gold leaf. The lobby is awash with watery reflections of the lagoon that filter in through the stained glass. We peek into the elevators, which are still under construction, and see their doors of etched antique mirrors and gilded frames receiving a final buff.

“I love working in Italy,” says Rochon. “There are artisans for terrazzo, for marble, for mirrors – for everything.” Sunlight streams in through the glass atrium, illuminating the thick-carpeted stairway at the hotel’s heart. Upstairs, workers unwrap chairs and straighten the portraits of grave, long-dead doges that hang in the suites.

“When you book a room here, you’ll have expectations,” says Christian Zandonella, the Danieli’s general manager. “We wanted to update the hotel, respecting its history without being too vintage. It had to be timeless because people have fond memories of this place.”

Nostalgia, however, hasn’t prevented Rochon from significantly reimagining the top-floor restaurant, Terrazza Danieli. The once-sombre space has been recast with soft blues, large mirrors and picture windows facing Piazza San Marco. “Now the dining room is part of the skyline,” says Zandonella.

Five storeys up, the terrace offers views across the Grand Canal towards the Bacino di San Marco and Punta della Dogana, with the islands of San Giorgio and Giudecca just beyond. Rome-born Adriano Rausa, who previously cooked with celebrated Sicilian chef Ciccio Sultano, is in charge of the restaurant and brings a southern Italian flavour to Venetian classics. Rausa says that his research involved dining at trattorias that were popular with locals “in search of authentic flavours”. (A tough gig.) “Venice has always been a place of cultural cross-currents, where new foods and flavours mingle with local recipes,” the chef tells Monocle. “Cooking connects so many different influences and turns them into something joyful.” His kitchen draws on close relationships with the city’s fishermen and the island farms of Sant’Erasmo; expect Venetian-style tuna belly, crab tortelli and a hearty Adriatic seafood stew.

There’s more to come too. Later this year a full spa and canal-facing sauna will open at the Danieli, as well as an indoor pool (the first in Venice’s centre). The hotel’s 1950 Excelsior palazzo, meanwhile, is scheduled to reopen in 2027, with garden suites and dozens of new guest rooms, bringing the total to 168.

Despite the time and effort spent on getting the building right, everyone who Monocle meets here seems transfixed on the lagoon outside. “Our main goal is to bring people out on the water,” says Zandonella, referring to a fleet of boats in the works that includes a traditional fishermen’s dinghy, a restored houseboat and an electric gondola. New itineraries will involve trips that venture beyond the main island to Torcello and Pellestrina, with guests stopping at generations-old trattorias, joining fishermen for lunch or heading to the sandbars with an ecologist to explore the lagoon’s wildlife. Striking architecture is one thing but, in Venice, it’s only ever part of the equation. “Our life is on the water,” says Zandonella.

The day starts early at Lisbon’s town hall, where there’s a chemical haze of hairspray and a lot of nervous giggling. In a room that’s usually used for registering births and reviewing minutes of civic meetings, a platoon of coiffeurs and make-up artists is adjusting hairpins and applying mascara to women in white satin robes.

A svelte man enters, wearing a sparkly brooch with matching diamanté-encrusted earrings. With a flourish fit for a flamenco dancer, he claps twice to hush the hubbub in the makeshift salon. “Ten minutes, brides,” he says, as the aerosol-can chorus picks up again.

The women who are being primed here are among a handful of lucky couples selected for weddings in Lisbon’s town hall and Sé cathedral on 12 June, the eve of Saint Anthony’s Day. The summer festivities are the high point of a monthlong celebration called Santos Populares. It’s a festival of devotion to three Catholic saints associated with June – Anthony, John and Peter. The first has something of a home advantage in the popularity stakes: born in Lisbon in the 12th century, he is the city’s favourite religious figure. Known as the saint of matchmaking, Anthony is also inextricably tied to Lisbon’s folklore. Many yearning hearts have deposited votive coins at his statue in the hope of finding love.

Today’s unusual communal wedding ceremonies are derived from tradition. Taking place since 1958 (albeit with a 30-year hiatus from 1974), these weddings are closely tied not only to Saint Anthony but also the city: everything from the dresses and banquets to the hairdos and honeymoons are presents from the municipality or local businesses.

The brides, many of whom are now clad in sparkling corsets and festooned in layers of white tulle, step onto a grand double staircase lined with golden candelabras. The wedding planner prods and cajoles the mothers and fathers up and down the steps for photographs, before everyone moves into the grand hall for the ceremony.

These five couples – who are all Lisbon residents but, attesting to the city’s changing face, include Chilean, Argentinian and German nationals – take their seats. We are in a stately room that’s adorned with frescoes and fringed with heavy red curtains. The couples receive a swift blessing from the mayor before the officiant begins the otherwise rather by-the-book ceremony. Next to the wooden doors, TV crews frame close-ups of brides’ faces. Producers with headsets and schedules in hand clip along the marble corridors, quietly directing the live transmission that’s being beamed around the country by state broadcaster RTP. Couples take turns to stand and read their vows, stuttering and wiping away tears – intimate moments that are promptly broadcast on TV.

With their unions lawfully made, the newlyweds step onto the balcony to greet those assembled – a moment akin to members of royalty addressing their subjects. Next, it’s to Praça do Município for a first dance. The music of a string quartet swells as the sun, already high in the sky, pushes the mercury past 30C. Around the square, in streets and alleyways, colourful triangular flags are strung up in preparation for tonight’s main event. The arraias, traditional open-air parties, will soon take over the city.

While the season’s festivities are linked to Portugal’s Catholicism, they have a life of their own that predates the church and still make sense in a more secular age. In pre-Christian times, the season marked the bounty of harvest; today it’s an excuse to drink beer, enjoy grilled sardines and indulge in street dancing to the sound of pimba, a kitschy genre of pop music.

It’s 20.00 and Avenida da Liberdade has been fenced off with metal barricades. People are already lining the way, having arrived early to secure a view, as tourists stop to look on in wonder. After the confetti has settled on the weddings, it’s time for the marchas populares, a glittery pageant in which the city’s neighbourhoods stage their own processions, a tradition that first started in 1932.

At the top of the avenue, near the Marquês de Pombal roundabout, parade-goers begin to arrive, filling adjacent streets with bursts of colour. They don theatrical, somewhat comical costumes, including oversized sparkly earrings, knee-length golden breeches, shiny stockings and hooped skirts. Most participants are young, some with braces flashing beneath bright lipstick and tattoos peeking from beneath bustiers or shoulder pads.

“My grandmother marched for Campolide and so did my parents,” says one man in a sheer purple top. “This is my 10th time parading for the neighbourhood.” Not everyone participates in honour of their current place of residence, especially since rising prices have pushed many people further out. There’s often a strong family connection to the neighbourhood of choice. “The place where we are born is forever in our hearts,” says one man, attempting to seem serious in his hot-pink flared trousers.

Musicians tune their instruments and stir spectators with bright riffs of brass and percussion, drawing cheers and applause. Swallows slice through the sky and warble as dusk falls and the hour of merriment approaches. Competing groups draw closer, bringing with them an energy built up over months of rehearsals in sports clubs and parish pavilions across Lisbon. Some 500 metres along the avenue, at the main stand, Portugal’s president, António José Seguro, suited city officials and local celebrities eagerly await the start of the spectacle.

“Every marching group must present a new and an old composition, as well as the grande marcha [a newly composed anchor piece] selected for this year,” says Vítor Agostinho, the president of the jury, who is seated among the dignitaries. It might all look like fun and games but there’s a great deal at stake for those involved. Many of those working backstage are seasoned composers, designers and scenographers. During the next four hours, 20 neighbourhoods will have chances to dazzle the judges. Notes are taken on everything from costumes to music and timing, while penalties are doled out for dropped props.

The newlyweds take to the avenue for a final public appearance – a flash mob performance to a 1980s hit. Then the mood becomes more earnest as the first marching group takes position. With their hands on their waists, chests puffed and chins up, 50 men and women representing Alto do Pina march in a one-two step to the sound of the brass band. Wearing blue and gold – the women adorned with shell necklaces and the men wielding large tridents – they sing of their neighbourhood’s grit and resilience, and praise Poseidon and the varinas (Lisbon’s historic female fish sellers). To the sound of a drumroll, the paraders proclaim their love for their district in the style of battle cries.

Band after band follows, marching with a similar mix of spectacle, courage and camp. There’s a multitude of motifs, some of which are repeated: the Tagus river, for example, or the sea, represented in shimmering blues. These express the fiercely independent neighbourhoods’ common admiration for the riverside city. Salgadeiras – female cod salters – are reimagined in futuristic white-lace headpieces. Cauteleiros, yesteryear’s lottery-ticket sellers, are resurrected with bingo cages stitched onto sleeves and four-leaf clovers on heads.

There are tributes to fado, featuring (very) tight sequinned trousers and colourful sleeves as part of an ode to the diversity that’s found in Mouraria’s streets, which are the birthplace of the melancholic musical genre. Inevitably, Saint Anthony receives a shoutout during every performance. The jaunty rhythm of the grande marcha – its chorus now familiar enough for everyone to sing along – carries group after group in and out.

Among those in the stands, no one knows the words better than José Quintela, the author of the 2026 grande marcha’s lyrics, this year themed around the slightly stodgy theme of the 40th anniversary of Portugal’s accession to the European Union. His song extols Lisbon’s open-armed embrace of freedom and diversity, painting a picture of a hopeful future and a city that belongs to everyone. “If you look at the history of Lisbon, we have always been a mix of peoples,” says Quintela.

That is true but there’s an unspoken tension running beneath the celebration: between a city projecting itself outwards and one negotiating the local traditions that it risks losing in the process. It’s a paradox that surfaces frequently in newspapers and during conversations in cafés and, tonight, animates many of the marches.

Some performances tackle this tension head on. After a mid-show interval and servings of caldo verde (hot soup on a warm summer night is another of the city’s many loveable contradictions), it’s time for representatives of the historic, hilly district of Alfama to take to the avenue. Dressed in baroque costumes that are the colours of stained glass, punked up with blue braids and glittered beards, they march with locked arms. Their standout composition, The Saints Must Be Crazy, speaks to recent demographic shifts in a tongue-in-cheek fashion: French is increasingly heard on the streets and fado is sung without its traditional shawl, the song’s lyrics point out. The message – perhaps a lampoon of the gentrification debate – is embellished with cheerleader-style lifts and confetti, which draw loud applause and hurrahs from the audience.

It’s now close to 01.00 and the crowds are thinning but many who remain continue to follow attentively and toes are still tapping. There’s no grand finale. After the last marching band parades down the avenue, the jury retreats to a nearby cinema to deliberate. The results will be announced in the morning. On the pavements behind the avenue, branded paraphernalia of dubious quality is handed out – hats shaped like beer mugs and glasses resembling sardines that might be deemed too cheesy for the average stag do. Stalls sell scratchcards; the cauteleiros might be gone but the dream of fair winds, fortune and chance is still part of the city’s story. The buildings that line Avenida da Liberdade, which is home to elegant international boutiques, overlook the throngs of people coming and going, some weaving through the crowds on their way to the next party, others wobbling home to the neighbourhoods that were just represented. The show is over for another year but its inspiration – this city of contradictions, traditions and exuberance – will be back to its old tricks in the morning.

Keen to sniff out fresh opportunities in the fragrance sector? To help you on your way, we have put together a guide to creating a thriving perfume brand, from manufacturing and distribution to the key names that should be on your radar. It’s a competitive field – but those who can cut through the fragrant fog stand to win big.

Follow the science: The four fragrance manufacturers to know

Between a brand and its bottles, the fragrance business has a hidden layer: a cluster of companies powering much of the €52bn global industry. They develop the extracts, compounds and formulas used to make the scents, and employ star perfumers (known as “noses”) to blend them. Here are four firms to know.

1.
DSM-Firmenich
Switzerland/Netherlands

DSM-Firmenich is one of the industry’s biggest players, with €3.8bn in perfume and beauty sales in 2025 alone. The merger of Dutch science and nutrition company Royal DSM and Swiss fragrance house Firmenich in 2023 brought together two juggernauts; the company now manufactures both the raw ingredients of perfume and finished fragrances for some of the world’s top fashion brands, including Marc Jacobs, Valentino and Dolce & Gabbana. For 2025’s Burberry Goddess, DSM-Firmenich found a new way to extract vanilla that preserves its natural character.
dsm-firmenich.com

2.
International Flavors & Fragrances (IFF)
USA

IFF is a leader in “functional” scents: it blends the fragrances used in laundry detergents, shower gels and more, alongside those for cosmetics from giants such as Procter & Gamble and L’Oréal. In 2025 the corporation made €2.14bn in sales across both scent compounds and finished fragrances. It also has a storied history in the commercial-fragrance sector. IFF created Calvin Klein’s Eternity in 1988 and launched a new era of celebrity-fronted perfumes with Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds in 1991. Today it employs some of the world’s best perfumers, including Carlos Benaïm.
iff.com

3.
Symrise
Germany

Formed in 2003 by the merger of German companies Haarmann & Reimer and Dragoco, Symrise has been helping to shape the fragrance industry for more than 150 years (the former firm developed the first synthetic vanilla scent). Like many of its competitors, the company is diversified across consumer goods and fragrances, and its scent and care division turned over about €1.9bn in 2025. Natural ingredients are a key focus for the company; it agreed to acquire French producer Floral Concept in 2026, which specialises in processing raw materials for scents, including orange blossom and rose.
symrise.com

4.
Givaudan
Switzerland

Arguably the world’s biggest “flavour house”, Givaudan shows no signs of slowing down. Based in Geneva, the company reported sales of about €8bn in 2025 and its fine-fragrance category grew by more than 18 per cent on the previous year. Givaudan is an R&D powerhouse, with innovation centres in Zürich and Singapore that create almost 2,000 new molecules a year. In February it announced plans for Campus 52, a €59m centre in Grasse pioneering new uses for natural ingredients – bringing hi-tech research to the historic cradle of perfumery.
givaudan.com

---

Master mixologists: The perfumers

The perfumers behind the world’s most famous scents are a curious mix of chemists and creatives. They talk of fragrances like poets and analyse chemicals like the scientists they are. Some devote their careers to a single fragrance house, shaping its legacy, while others move between mass-market and luxury. Meet three of the world’s keenest noses.

Carlos Benaïm
“The most interesting creations happen at the intersection of imagination and logic,” says Carlos Benaïm, IFF’s master perfumer. Over five decades, he has worked on bestsellers including Calvin Klein’s Eternity and Euphoria. But the scent that he describes as the foundation of his olfactory imagination still eludes him. “It’s the smell of my grandfather’s snuff, made from wild Moroccan tobacco and perfumed by my father with a violet fragrance,” he says. Chasing the intangible has allowed him to make perfumes suffused with a sense of boundless potential. “I have spent a lifetime revisiting that emotion,” he says.

Francis Kurkdjian
Armenian-born French nose Francis Kurkdjian often begins with an idea or image, then finds ways to conjure it in scent. Kurkdjian is the perfumer behind Baccarat Rouge 540, whose success in 2014 made Maison Francis Kurkdjian one of the most celebrated names in its sector (in 2017, LVMH took a majority stake in the house). He also serves as the creative director of perfume at Dior, where reformulating iconic scents is as important as creating new hits.

Céline Barel
Known for work that leans into the enigmatic, Céline Barel is one of just two noses creating fragrances for L’Oréal-owned brand Aesop. For her latest scent, Entirely Aurner, the brief was to make “a floral that would not smell like a flower”. Barel, who has synaesthesia, layers smells inspired by novels, music, colours and sights into perfumes for the likes of Loewe and McQueen. Her most unusual creation might be Squid for niche house Zoologist: a briny scent that uses synthetic accords of black ink and musky ambergris.

---

Hit the big time: The conglomerates

For the founders of independent perfume brands, acquisition by one of the big luxury conglomerates often means a significant payout. In 2022, for example, Spanish beauty and fashion company Puig bought a €1bn majority stake in Byredo, a respected Swedish fragrance maker. Those seeking to emulate Byredo’s founder, Ben Gorham, take note. We look at the five industry leaders.

Estée Lauder, USA
In 1946 cosmetics pioneer Estée Lauder co-founded her eponymous brand with her husband, Joseph, in New York. The duo launched their first olfactory product in 1953: a bath oil called Youth Dew. The company has since climbed to the top of the beauty industry, acquiring brands such as Le Labo and Tom Ford. Last year it launched a fragrance atelier inside La Maison des Parfums – the corporation’s 2,000 sq m innovation hub and fragrance centre on Paris’s Rue Volney. The hub, which opened under the patronage of Emmanuel Macron, seeks to revolutionise scent-making by using AI to combine olfactive and neuroscience research across its perfume brand stable.

Puig, Spain
Founded in Barcelona in 1914 by Antonio Puig Castelló, Puig launched Agua Lavanda, its trademark scent, in 1940. The family-run Spanish giant is now the pre-eminent conglomerate for smaller, niche luxury brands. In 2015 it acquired L’Artisan Parfumeur and Penhaligon’s, and has since also added Byredo, as well as the licence for Christian Louboutin Beauty. Meanwhile, Puig has agreements with the likes of Antonio Banderas and Shakira to develop their own fragrance lines. In 2026, buoyed by the success of its Carolina Herrera brand, the company’s fragrance and fashion division grew by 3.7 per cent, reporting revenues of €819m.

LVMH, France
In 2023 the LVMH group became the first European company to surpass a valuation of $500bn (then €400bn). Founded in 1987 through the merger of Louis Vuitton and Moët Hennessy, the group runs some 60 subsidiaries that manage 75 luxury brands. Its perfume portfolio spans storied fashion-house fragrances, such as Parfums Christian Dior, and smaller players including Officine Universelle Buly. In the first half of 2026, LVMH’s fragrance and cosmetics arm, which represents 10 per cent of group sales, brought in €3.9bn, with strong performances from labels such as Guerlain offsetting weaker results elsewhere in the division.

Shiseido, Japan
Established in 1872, Shiseido started as Japan’s first Western-style private pharmacy. In 1926 it began to focus fully on cosmetics. The company’s success in the early 20th century cemented Japan’s status as a key player in the sector; the first-ever Japanese-created fragrance was Shiseido’s Hanatsubaki, launched in 1917. Today its portfolio includes fragrance-driven luxury brands Serge Lutens, Issey Miyake Parfums and Narciso Rodriguez. Though the company has suffered setbacks in recent years, its core operating profit surged by 90 per cent to ¥44.4bn (€240m) in the first half of 2026, following the implementation of a corporate turnaround plan.

L’Oréal, France
French chemist Eugène Paul Louis Schueller founded L’Oréal in 1909. More than a century later, it’s the world’s leading cosmetics company, with a fragrance portfolio spanning budget-friendly brands including Diesel and high-end houses such as YSL, Armani Beauty and Maison Margiela. Earlier this year it acquired Kering Beauté, including the Creed fragrance house, for $4.7bn (€4bn). Second-quarter sales saw €11.6bn in revenue, an 8.2 per cent year-on-year increase, with Creed growing by double digits within the group.

---

Play to the crowd: Market analysis

The world’s three biggest markets for perfume differ in subtle ways, reflecting each region’s culture and character.

Europe
Despite geopolitical volatility and economic uncertainty, Europe remains a stronghold of luxury. The world’s largest perfume market is enjoying sharp growth in premium fragrances, with year-on-year sales of bottles costing €150 or more rising by 32 per cent in 2024. Designer brands dominate the top 20 bestsellers, with an 89 per cent market share. Dior’s Sauvage continues to set records, selling more than 12 million bottles a year. European consumers are particularly fond of delicate, floral notes with Italian bergamot, French lavender and Moroccan orange blossom consistently popular.

North America
Scent sales in North America currently stand at about €13.6bn. The US accounts for a fifth of the global market, making it the world’s largest perfume-buying nation. There’s a preference for heady fragrances: seven out of 10 consumers are willing to pay more for stronger, longer-lasting scents. The region has a sweet spot for notes of vanilla, caramel and pistachio.

Asia-Pacific
Though the smallest perfume market of the three, Asia-Pacific’s 8.5 per cent annual growth rate dwarfs Europe’s 3.8 per cent. The region has the world’s fastest-growing fragrance economy, which is projected to reach almost €16.4bn by 2030 (more than double its value in 2020). These figures are driven by higher disposable incomes and shifting consumer habits. In China, 81 per cent of shoppers now consider fragrance a daily staple rather than an occasional luxury. Layering, a cultural fixture of the Mena region, is taking off in India too and fragrance start-ups are drawing on local ingredients such as rose, jasmine and vetiver to encourage consumers to own multiple scents.

---

Close the sale: The independent shops

Congratulations! You’ve made a perfume. So how do you get it out there? At Monocle, we’re partial to independent retailers. Here are three whose shelves we’d like to fill.

Villa 515, Dubai
Behind the leafy courtyard of Villa 515 – a Dubai villa reimagined as a café, restaurant and concept shop – is an atelier devoted to perfumes. Its co-founder Dhaher Bin Dhaher created it as a home for his fragrance label, Tola, but its shelves also carry a selection of independent perfume brands, including France’s État Libre d’Orange and Histoires de Parfums. “I wanted to create a place that would be a home for different perfumery brands,” he says. An on-site perfume lab adds an educational element. Many UAE customers, says Bin Dhaher, buy as many as six perfume bottles a month.
villa515.com

Rawness, Brescia
Founded in 2020, Rawness stocks fragrances and skincare products from well-known brands alongside those of smaller labels including Raer and Vahy. “We choose functional fragrances according to the therapeutic properties of plant and flower extracts,” says the shop’s founder, Giovanni Norcia.
rawness.it

30ml, Montréal
Pat O’Reilly conceived 30ml as a space where perfume intersects with art and self-expression. “I’m not interested in having 20 brands that occupy the same square metre of the fragrance world,” he says. The space, which features O’Reilly’s art and a coffee bar, welcomes anyone, whether they’re looking for a scent or a conversation.
30ml.ca

---

Perfumes timeline

Much like fashion or music, scent is an art form that can capture the spirit of its time – and remain relevant for decades to come. Here are six perfumes that defined their eras.

---

Home brew

Monocle launched its own perfume line with Japanese brand Comme des Garçons in 2008 and Scent One: Hinoki remains a mainstay of our shops. Last year we launched our fifth fragrance. All are available online and in-person at the Monocle Shop.

Since 2001, Swiss watch brand Richard Mille has been shaking up the traditional world of haute horlogerie with an approach to manufacturing timepieces that draws inspiration from Formula 1 race-car engineering, using shock-resistant materials such as carbon, titanium and quartz. In 2026 the brand aims to release a limited run of 6,100 watches. With a business model built on scarcity and average prices of about €313,000, Richard Mille represents a members’-club-like level of aspiration for those who can secure a model.

Amanda Mille – Richard’s daughter, who serves as the horological house’s brand and partnerships director – sees herself as a storyteller. Based in Paris, she began her career at Richard Mille in Dubai, expanding the brand’s offering to female customers. At its Monaco shop, she tells Monocle about the company’s ambitions and why exceptional service sometimes requires honesty.

You started your career with Richard Mille in Dubai, building its women’s segment. Was the demand already there or did you have to create something new?
It was my father’s dream to create jewellery for gentlemen, so the universe of Richard Mille was male-orientated. The boutiques were black; it was almost all about car racing. It wasn’t easy for a female customer to see herself in that world. Some women were asking for Richard Mille watches but most didn’t know that we had something to offer them. I became a storyteller, more than a salesperson, to increase their awareness that we had been working seriously on it. We also had to change. At the time, for example, we didn’t have any full-length mirrors in our shops; only small ones. But women want to see the whole look. We had to adapt to welcome them better.

People wrongly assume that women aren’t interested in the manufacturing process. The first time that we did a factory tour for female-only customers, they asked so many technical questions. I have to thank Cécile Guenat [the director of creation and development at Richard Mille], who has been adding to the female collections [with the introduction of a high-jewellery line in 2020]. When we started making women’s watches, it was important that people understood that we weren’t just adding diamonds to things, so we began with technical pieces without stones. We knew that the message wouldn’t be as strong if we just embellished watches and that it also wouldn’t have been in keeping with Richard Mille’s technical reputation. Now, people understand that we’re making women’s watches of the same calibre.

Richard Mille sponsors sports events and has partnerships with athletes – from Olympic gold medallist Ester Ledecká and French freediver Arnaud Jerald to Spanish tennis star Rafael Nadal. How do you go about choosing the right people to work with?
It’s like love at first sight. Today we have more than 60 partners. Sportspeople from different disciplines bring us information that we need to continue to grow on the technical and material side, as well as in terms of image.

Big partnerships such as Rallye des Princesses or the Superyacht Cup Palma come from discussions on whether or not it makes sense for us to have a presence there. We get a lot of feedback about our products by taking the time to invite press, clients or partners to an event. Our clients feel that they’re part of the Richard Mille family. We’re creating a brand that people can feel close to and is part of their lives.

Why do you invest so much in storytelling and partnerships when the demand for your pieces already outstrips the supply?
We want to be proud of ourselves. We’re always respectful to those who are interested in the brand, whether they can buy a watch or not. It’s also important never to judge the people who come into your shop because you never know: perhaps today this person is young and still at university but tomorrow they might open their first business and remember how they were treated. We feel honoured to be able to make people dream – those who are just starting out and aren’t able to afford a Richard Mille watch today or maybe ever.

There’s nothing sadder than creating something that no one understands or cares about. It happens to so many who have amazing ideas. We have been lucky enough to have people understand what we create. We don’t take that for granted. We’re always looking at how to do more and be more creative because we don’t want to be bored. Every month, we go to the factory to do our board meetings and development meetings. We want to have fun.

Banyalbufar edges down the side of a steep cliff. Invading Moors first settled in the area in the 10th century – hence the Arabic-flavoured name – and the town seems to be kept from sliding into the sea by the sturdy stone terraces that those first residents erected. It’s a place that feels modest, discreet. Walk down the main street and the green shutters on the pink-plastered and stone houses are usually, well, shuttered. But, for many years, the town has been pulling in knowing residents; many of those demure homes have been bought by architects, fashion folk and Danish bankers. Now, however, there is a new arrival in town that is more at ease with showing some leg, making a sunny splash and throwing open the windows.

Gran Hotel Margalida is the latest offering from Spanish hospitality group Annua Signature Hotels, which already has one inn on the island, as well as two in Menorca and another in Lanzarote. This 29-key project is a step up for the business: a bid to deliver something that feels as though it could be on the Côte d’Azur. The Med-to-the-max vibe is underlined by the interiors from Virginia Nieto that are as sunny as a brimming bowl of lemon-infused helado. Everything from the bathroom tiles to the parasols is gloriously yellow. It’s a fun design, with palm trees painted on walls and huge light fittings that resemble shaggy yellow yaks suspended from the ceilings. There are enough nods to Mallorca to make the hotel feel rooted in place but it’s not just an exercise in craft. It’s slicker than that.

The building itself is a little tricky to navigate at first, as the topography has resulted in a long, narrow hotel with numerous levels. On Monocle’s first day, we couldn’t find our way back to our room; another time, the well-equipped gym seemed to have vanished. The upside of this, seized upon by architects Álvaro Onieva and MR Studio, is that the rooms, pool and wonderful dining terrace have views that stop you in your tracks. Guests stared a lot as yachts cut across the sea at dusk or as locals trekked down the winding roads, towels slung over their shoulders, to one of the island’s most spectacular swimming spots. The food is also good and the wine too.

As with all new openings, the hotel needs to ease into being just a great place to stay. Some of the intention, the storytelling, is a little too evident and the soundtrack of cover versions is a bit too loud. And it will be interesting to see how the hotel charms local residents. Will they come to use the oyster bar? As for Monocle, we would go back just for the view. And the team. And the pool.

After checking out, as we wound back through the Tramuntana mountains along a squiggly mountain road, it really felt as though we were leaving a haven, a place where reality could be left locked in your suitcase for a couple of days. And that’s a good thing to find.
annuahotels.com