A quest for lightness emerged as the leitmotif for the spring/summer 2027 edition of Paris Fashion Week, which comes to a close today. After a summer of heatwaves, creative designers presented collections that shared an ethereal quality, with featherlight, almost see-through fabrics, as well as a palate-cleansing palette of pastel and neutral tones. At Issey Miyake, head designer Satoshi Kondo showcased coats made from ultrafine ripstop nylon that ballooned behind models like parachutes. Dior’s Jonathan Anderson wanted to construct outfits so light they could gracefully fit into a shoebox. Last night, under lit-up sculptures of swallows taking flight, Matthieu Blazy continued to evolve his joyous vision for Chanel – one that included sheer organza sets and a pair of Swan Lake tutus.
There’s perhaps a heavy-handed metaphor here too: after a year of cycling through a litany of debut and sophomore collections that paid tribute to brand legacies, it’s time to shake off the weight of this heritage. Designers are emerging from the archive and wiping the slate clean, which might also explain the abundance of optic-white show sets this season, from Loewe and Dries Van Noten to Dior and Hermès.
Suspending disbelief might also be at play. In Paris, the political and economic backdrop included students rioting over crumbling school infrastructure and chronic underinvestment in the national education system. Last week, the French government put forward a budget with €43bn in spending cuts, while the country’s debt deepens and a presidential election looms. No amount of fantasy and newness on the runway can counter these issues – let alone the repercussions on the demand for luxury goods by the ongoing conflict in the Middle East and an economic slowdown in China.
Despite these industry woes, Paris can rest assured that its status as the world’s premier destination for fashion remains stable. The world still turns to France for approval in matters of luxury and taste. American brands, buyers and press continue to fly in to associate themselves with European taste. Group showcases are staged to reach a bigger audience than brands might find at home. The Australian Fashion Council sponsored 12 homegrown designers to show in Paris, ranging from the ultra-minimalist label Esse Studios to the more expressive brand Romance Was Born.
“Historically, Australian fashion was sold as resortwear,” Marianne Perkovic, the initiative’s chair, told Monocle. “It’s up to us to redefine this. We embarked on a new strategy, one pillar of which is trade and commerce. We’re hoping to put Australian fashion and textiles on the map because it’s an important export for us that currently accounts for €4.46bn each year. So we’re taking our designers to the world more.” With government backing, an initiative such as the Australian showcase proves that fashion can also be a tool for soft power. No country has understood this better than France and its luxury houses, where creative designers exert some wishful thinking to provide much-needed levity.
Grace Charlton is Monocle’s fashion editor. For more insight and analysis, subscribe to Monocle today.
The spring/summer 2027 edition of Paris Fashion Week offered the usual standout shows from the city’s major maisons – notably Dior, Chanel and Hermès – as well as collections from emerging names such as Torishéju Dumi and Marie Adam-Leenaerdt. Here are our 10 favourite shows.
1.
Torishéju
For London-based designer Torishéju Dumi, contemporary life is something of a circus – one that provides distraction from deeper issues. “There’s something off-kilter about the world today,” said Dumi backstage after the show. “It’s bizarre, it’s uncanny. You can’t really put your finger on it.”
Titled “Panem et Circenses” (after Roman poet and satirist Juvenal’s quip about bread and circuses), the designer’s collection demonstrated her expertise in menswear. From the line-up’s double-breasted jackets and bar jackets to hourglass jackets and blousons with Peter Pan collars and pagoda shoulders, it’s clear why Dumi received the 2025 LVMH Savoir-Faire Prize.
Compared to previous collections, this season also demonstrated a willingness to play with colours and patterns, from leopard print to romantic florals. “I’m really excited about the world I’m building right now,” added Dumi. “Everything has a funny element to it. If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”
torisheju.com
2.
Dries Van Noten
The invitation for the Dries Van Noten show took the form of a movie poster that could have been plucked straight out of the 1950s film-noir era. It hinted at what to expect this season from Belgian creative director Julian Klausner, who is fast emerging as a favourite among editors and buyers on the Paris Fashion Week calendar. “I had in mind this character, an actress in between scenes like Grace Kelly,” said Klausner after the show. On the runway, models wore knee-length skirts, boxy blazers and classic peep-toe heels. The palette was kept light and seductive, with lingerie tones of jade green, lilac, baby blue, lemon and blush pink.
There was something a little Margaritaville about Klausner’s choice of patterns this season (think flamingos, martini glasses and kisses) and the accessories, particularly the oversized jewellery and brooches. “A brooch can make something old in your wardrobe feel glamorous,” added Klausner. “I love the idea of dressing up for cocktail hour with cocktail jewellery.”
driesvannoten.com
3.
Dior
Fashion-show invitations range from the wacky to the impressively ornate but Dior offered something that, at first glance, left guests bemused: a pair of walnuts. They were wénwán nuts, made to be played with and rolled in the hand until, over time, take on a jade-like patina. Creative director Jonathan Anderson was clearly concerned with touch, time and imperfection – fittingly so for a designer still figuring out how to make one of fashion’s most storied houses feel like his own.
This season, he staged a continuation of his autumn/winter 2026 collection, revisiting both its themes and location, the geometrically precise Le Bassin Octagonal in the Jardin des Tuileries. Christian Dior himself was obsessed with flowers and symmetry found in nature. Anderson picked up that thread last season, tacking lily pads on shoes and floral motifs on clothes. This time the concept evolved into an exploration of what happens when geometry is allowed to move a bit more freely. Tailoring became transparent and fluid, the famous Bar jacket softened. Dresses were scattered with hand-cut petals, which appeared as if they had just blown in. The brand’s classic silhouettes looked as though they had been caught mid-movement. The collection was still recognisably Dior but a little less buttoned-up. And, in turn, maybe a little more grown-up.
dior.com
4.
Loewe
Loewe’s co-creative directors, Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez, explored history for their spring/summer 2027 collection as the Spanish brand celebrates its 180th anniversary. Bridging the old with the new, they put forward a new proposition for dressing – one that, as always, put craft front and centre. Chiffon dresses and midi skirts in bright yellows and electric blues were trimmed in tie-dye and finished with beading, while oversized bomber jackets featured hand-painted stripes in green and blue iterations.
Playfulness was the leitmotif of the collection, featuring shorts and dresses in exaggerated silhouettes that protruded around the hips, adorned floral beadwork. Initially founded as an artisanal leather-goods shop, Loewe is always considered with its use of hides – this time with leather jackets dressed up with thick leather belts. But the brand’s strength is its accessories, in particular the Puzzle bag, which was a runaway hit during Jonathan Anderson’s tenure as creative director. This season, a mesh clutch embellished with glass beads and elongated square-toe kitten heels will hopefully prove to be another commercial success as McCollough and Hernandez solidify their vision for the house.
loewe.com
5.
Givenchy
For spring, Sarah Burton challenged notions of female archetypes, introducing silhouettes that consider the many versions of women. There was a dynamic feel to the co-ordinated leather shirts tucked into streamlined midi skirts or the sturdy double-breasted coats that gave a nod to the 1980s. Yet the tailoring felt sensual too – cue the oversized trousers, disguised as a jumpsuit from the front but elegantly revealing the back.
Elsewhere, softness found form in romantic evening gowns finished with meticulous beadwork and frills, while tasseled dresses draped from wing-like arabesques of brass wire. Burton’s bolder experiments came in the form of leather micro-shorts and biker jackets, paired with hefty ankle boots accented with zippers. The accessories were admirable as well – think figure-hugging denim trousers punctuated by a belt buckle that opens into a compact mirror; asymmetric earrings; and peekaboo totes that revealed contrasting colours or beaded prints when left hanging open.
givenchy.com
6.
Chloé
Is this Chemena Kamali’s swansong for Chloé before taking the reins from Anthony Vaccarello at Saint Laurent? That is the question dominating the front rows of Paris Fashion Week. If this was indeed her last collection for the Richemont-owned brand, it was a joyful one. A parade of multicoloured raincoats was a highlight, paired with sou’wester hats that draped into shawls, lightening the look of stiff vinyl and transparent PVC. Other details were less waterproof: cotton broderie anglaise was a staple across the line-up, appearing as inset panels on milkmaid dresses, camisoles and petticoats; while 1970s-inspired tailoring grounded slips and lacy, lingerie-like harnesses.
Kamali mined the house archives for its feminine and youthful language embodied through babydoll dresses, bateau necklines and flouncy ruffles. Romantic bohemianism is as present as ever, but the designer’s rendition – a collection offset with harder counterpoints in the addition of heavy-duty industrial wear and heavy fisherman’s coats – felt fresh. And her archival impulse is not just an aesthetic one. Nostalgia, when properly handled, can be very good business. Since the German designer’s arrival, Chloé has reported strong sales and the reissued Paddington bag quickly became a bestseller.
chloe.com
7.
Carven
Carven began with a cloud of pastels. Butter yellow, icy blue and candyfloss pink in the form of twin sets and wispy dresses. A rumpled effect, inspired by bedsheets, was achieved through precise tailoring and pinning. Then the collection moved to blacks and whites, for a line-up that is more stern but still fluid. Perhaps that defines Kai Nesselrath’s intention for the label; spring/summer 2027 marks the designer’s debut for the French couture house (which, since 2018, has been owned by Shanghainese group Icicle).
Naturally for a first collection, Nesselrath looked to Carven’s beginnings, back to Madame Carven as a woman who worked with her hands – a doer – and ran that spirit through his show. There was a lovely tension between the everyday and the avant garde. Pencil shavings became golden earrings and polished pencil accessories were pinned into hair. It felt like a smart place to begin for a maison whose identity has become somewhat elusive in recent years. Nesselrath has the rare chance to make Carven his own – an opportunity that he might not have in a house with more visually established codes.
carven.com
8.
Miu Miu
How do you make “real clothes” luxurious? That was Miuccia Prada’s concern this season at Miu Miu. In recent years, the brand has hit on a particular blend of aspirational covetability and high-fashion respect, partly through its nurturing of buzzy relationships with mass-market favourites. This year marked its fifth New Balance collaboration, this time reworking the RC150 racing trainer, while Wrangler was brought into the fold for vintage denim upcycled with the collection’s signature criss-crossed laces.
The collection leaned heavily into the sportswear that has earned the brand a cult following but with a contextual mix-up. Jersey tees went down the runway with pleated skirts; slouchy sweatpants with blazers and silky, 1970s disco-style wraparound tops; and embellished gym bras paired with stern loafers or stilettos. In some ways, it was a continuation of the skirt-centric collection over at Prada, its sister brand, both relying on interesting styling over newness.
Looks were often edited versions of another, with a single element swapped out for something else. Sneakers for loafers, a blazer for a knit, a skirt for a trouser. Mrs Prada might have found her answer to the question of luxury in a high-fashion Ship of Theseus – if we accept that nothing is new, can we find joy and expression in a modular wardrobe that makes old things feel fresh again?
miumiu.com
9.
Hermès
After a summer of record-breaking heatwaves in Paris, the idea of letting in some air preoccupied Nadège Vanhée when designing the spring/summer 2027 women’s ready-to-wear collection for Hermès. In practice, this manifested in open-weave knitwear and clothing with vents, as well as trousers and skirts that can be zipped or unzipped to adjust lengths according to the temperature.
The choice in colour was particularly refreshing, with a focus on sky blue, cream and burnt browns – a muted palette that was later offset with the introduction of sunflower yellow and an almost-red orange. In her show notes, Vanhée explained the chromatic evolution as one that follows the arc of daylight, from early morning mists to the vivid radiance of a high-summer sunset. It was a pared-back tour de force from the designer, whose next collection for the French luxury house will take place in January with a debut couture collection.
hermes.com
10.
Chanel
After the dizzying designer switchups at major maisons over the past two years, some new starters have been quick off the block, while others are still finding their stride. Matthieu Blazy’s spring/summer 2027 collection, which marked a year since his debut, continued to sharpen his optimistic vision for the house.
Giant white birds hung from the glass ceiling of the Grand Palais while models strutted beneath their outstretched wings. Texture has quickly become Blazy’s signature and it added to this sense of movement and flight on the runway: the show was an abundance of feathers, frills and ruffles, as well as a newly engineered smocked tweed. It preserved Chanel’s house codes but had the feel of something much lighter and more fluid.
The collection drew on Gabrielle Chanel’s own fashion journey, beginning with more restrictive silhouettes, before proceeding to jersey, mannish tailoring and, finally, to the trim suit that became her signature. Applause was rapturous at the show’s finale but Blazy remained calm. “It’s a good start,” he told the assembled reporters after the show.
chanel.com
The namesake label of Dublin-born, New York-based fashion designer Maria McManus is fast emerging as a brand of choice for women seeking high-quality wardrobe staples with built-in sustainability credentials. With a focus on biodegradable fibres and reduced water use, McManus founded her brand in 2020 after working for US brands such as Tory Burch and Club Monaco. During Paris Fashion Week, the designer took over a showroom in Le Marais, where she met Monocle to talk about mulling over her spring/summer 2027 collection on a holiday in Ireland, as well as why she credits Texas with getting her brand off the ground.
What was the starting point for this collection?
I spent a lot of time in Ireland this summer. My children were born in the US and they got a little fancy – they needed some grounding. So we headed to Ireland and spent two weeks driving the Wild Atlantic Way. We drove 2,200km to see every beach, nook and cranny of the west coast, from Cork all the way up to Donegal. I was also thinking about Edna O’Brien’s novels The Country Girls and The Lonely Girl. The books are about these country girls who move to The Big Smoke, hence the more glamorous pieces in the collection, as well as the sweet, organic-cotton sateen skirts with French-lace detailing. There are elements of Ireland in these little touches.
Can you tell us more about your manufacturing process?
For the most part we work with one factory in New York, one in Portugal and one in Poland, with another small one in China for knitwear. We’re diverse because of the situation with tariffs and duties in the US right now.
There’s a lot of repetition of fabrics in the collection. It is intentionally lean but there’s still innovation. One of the Japanese mills we work with bought farms in India and converted them to produce organic cotton. All of the lace is certified Dentelle de Calais-Caudry, made in northern France on old-fashioned Leavers looms. Our knitwear yarns are sourced in Italy. We use a silk replacement from Japan that is made from recycled fibres in a closed-loop system. We use recycled leather that is mixed with polyester at the moment but we’re looking for alternatives.
Where do you see opportunities in a tighter consumer market as an independent, self-funded brand?
We’re trying to grow our direct-to-consumer (DTC) revenue. We’ve almost doubled it this year. We’re still a very US-based brand because I’m in New York. We have a loyal customer base; our return rate is about 45 per cent. Our customers are on the coasts, so New York and the northeast, as well as Los Angeles and San Francisco. We also have a huge base in Texas. We work with shops in Austin, Houston and Dallas and, honestly, the reason that we’re still here is because our first collection was sold in Texas. Coming to Paris Fashion Week, our goal is to build an audience in Europe and [be stocked] in speciality boutiques. In the US, we’re in almost every city.
Summer in Spain is normally a time for switching off but this past season felt more heated, fuelled by a swathe of hot-button scandals around immigration, housing affordability and the use of public space. Long-simmering frustrations saw protests spill onto pavements and plazas around the country. But in stark contrast to fiery student demonstrations that gripped France over the weekend, protestors from Valencia to the Balearic Islands and Madrid found more artful ways to agitate. They were organised, packed clear proposals for policy reform and, in many instances, a picnic basket.
Yesterday morning, Spain’s prime minister, Pedro Sánchez staked his political future on their cause. Standing before the nation and admitting to three years of “difficulties and hostilities” heading a minority coalition government, he announced plans to dissolve the national parliament and called snap elections for 29 November – nine months ahead of schedule.
There are echoes of 15 years ago, when another left-wing government was hanging onto power and the angry Indignados movement erupted onto the streets, protesting bipartisan malaise and the squeeze of austerity. That movement went on to transform the political landscape, helping to propel a new generation of left-leaning leaders into power in six of the country’s biggest town halls. Now, in 2026, is Pedro Sánchez agile enough to capitalise on a similar wave of momentum and salvage his own fragile political future?
Let’s wind the clock back to June. In Valencia the city’s mayor, María José Catalá, had just announced an ambitious plan to redesign a 5km stretch of the city’s seafront. Some restaurants floated the idea of designating specific picnic zones for locals, suggesting that their presence along the promenade was making the scene unsightly for tourists. The comments quickly – and understandably – caused a stir. In Valencia the beloved tradition of sopar a la fresca – a kind of outdoor supper – has long brought the esplanade to life, with residents making the most of the cooler evening air, sitting on deck chairs and feasting from Tupperware. After the row caught fire on social media, five neighbourhood associations banded together to stage a protest picnic on the balmy night of 5 September. Hundreds turned up, including politicians suddenly eager to reaffirm their defence of a popular custom that has been a part of culture toda la vida – that’s the Spanish way of saying, well, forever.
Throughout summer, similar protests – and delectable spreads – were staged in other tourist hotspots, where locals were also feeling the squeeze. In August, Palma de Mallorca’s Plaza Mayor filled up for sopars a la llesca (Catalan for eating alfresco), an annual dinner demonstration that started in 2025 to reclaim public space. Diners were encouraged to bring beach coolers and folding tables, as well as boardgames and musical instruments. Leave it to the Spanish to protest and still make it fun. Other picnics popped up around Ibiza’s marina and along a street in Madrid’s Lavapiés district. Their message was clear: listen to us; we’re fed up; we’re being priced out of our homes and barrios.
Spaniards welcomed record numbers of international visitors in August – up 9.2 per cent to 12.3 million – bringing the total for the first eight months of 2026 to 70.4 million. It’s part of a wider statistical success story that includes increased foreign investment and growth. For many, though, there is another side to the story: rising rents, noisy tourist apartments and officials who seem more willing to trumpet market-force rationale than defend basic rights.
In September, an 87-year-old disabled pensioner became the face of Spain;’s long-simmering housing crisis. Maricarmen Abascal was evicted from the home she had lived in for more than 70 years via stretcher after it was bought by an investment fund that tripled her rent. Her case had been playing out in the courts for several years but images of police forcing their way through protestors to forcibly remove the grandmother struck an incendiary chord.
For weeks, Madrid’s streets have been dominated by right-leaning protestors upset about the Sánchez government’s handling of a months-long migrant crisis in Ceuta, the Spanish enclave on Morocco’s northern coast. Suddenly, another movement was surging into view, refocusing the nation’s attention on issues closer to home.
Backed by the well-organised Tenants’ Union, the mainly youth-led movement poured into the capital’s central Puerta de Sol plaza. Jangling keys and holding placards decrying “Your profits, our misery”, protestors built a symbolic encampment of some 1,500 tents. Now entering its second week, the standoff shows no signs of ending, with activists erecting makeshift street signs and even setting up their own co-working centre.
Unlike the Indignados movement, which erected a similar tent city in the same square 15 years ago, this time organisers arrived with a specific list of reforms: freezing evictions, building more social housing and enacting rental price caps. A legion of well-versed spokespeople parroted their demands to TV cameras across Spain.
Latching onto the momentum, the prime minister announced an emergency relief package but Sánchez’s latest legislative lifeline failed to pass on Friday. He does, however, have a reputation for remontadas (unlikely comebacks). The next few weeks will be especially tough. His party and minority coalition partner, Sumar, are both down in the polls, while fending off several corruption scandals and facing incumbency fatigue after eight years in power. Rolling the dice to call snap elections might be a bold move, switching a much-anticipated electoral battleground away from immigration and toward cost of living, housing reform and the defence of basic rights. During Sánchez’s tenure, rental prices have risen by 80 per cent, while a poll last week found that two-thirds of voters now support greater government intervention in the housing market.
We live in an era of increased street protest that increasingly goes nowhere. Modern historian Anton Jäger’s recent book, Hyperpolitics: Extreme Politicization without Political Consequence, touches on this modern dilemma, arguing that dwindling political membership has been supplanted by chronically online activism, all while governments drag their feet on delivering substantive change. As tempers fray over rising costs, it’s no wonder many furious voters are radicalising.
Which is why Spain’s summer of people power matters. Around the world, some savvy leaders and parliamentarians have begun to focus on bread-and-butter issues – see recent mayoral results in New York and Berlin – but Spain’s example, combining creativity with a sense of comity, offers lessons for an exasperated electorate, too. Taking a stand on pavements and in plazas is one way of voicing or venting frustrations. But real change is more likely when movements articulate a clear vision for the future – and find a government willing to listen. Now, in Spain, the entire population has a chance to put that vision to a vote.
Liam Aldous is Monocle’s Madrid correspondent. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.
Brazil’s presidential election is heading to a second-round runoff with a clear frontrunner: Flávio Bolsonaro. The son of controversial far-right former president Jair Bolsonaro overperformed in Sunday’s first-round polls, claiming 47 per cent of the vote compared with 45 per cent for incumbent left-wing leader Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva.
The race now heads to a runoff on 25 October but the wind is clearly in the sails of the younger Bolsonaro, who just months ago was written off, beleaguered by political infighting and beset by scandal. His potential victory later this month, combined with a broader right-wing sweep of key gubernatorial, senatorial and congressional races on Sunday, speaks volumes about the trajectory of the country.
First and foremost, the conservative right remains firmly in the ascendancy. Despite clichéd global stereotypes of samba and Carnival, the forces directing Brazil today are evangelical Christianity, so-called “traditional values” and an all-powerful agribusiness sector, which dominates Brazil’s interior states and wider economy. This movement is intrinsically tied up with the Bolsonaro family – so much so that they it has given this brand of conservative politics its name: bolsonarismo.
Second, both the Brazilian left and its centrist parties are in dire need of reinvention. At age 80, Lula has drawn obvious comparisons with Joe Biden in the US, even if the Brazilian leader remains a much sharper operator. Lula’s problems are not cognitive; rather they stem from a lack of fresh ideas and policies.
Lula has been present in Brazil’s political scene for decades and is serving his third non-consecutive term as president. But throughout the campaign he relied on a worn-out playbook of increased handouts and paternalistic politics. He has demonstrated, in his rhetoric and his policies, an inability to connect with a new generation of Brazilians who do not wish to rely on the state.
So what happens now? Flávio Bolsonaro has made clear that, should he succeed in the runoff, his burning political priority is to provide a pardon for his father, who is under house arrest after being convicted of plotting a coup following his own 2022 election defeat.
Beyond that, he has been notably short on ideas and proposals. A Bolsonaro victory would likely boost Brazilian markets, with traders and investors expecting Latin America’s largest economy to pivot back towards free-market policies and away from Lula’s state-centred approach. More than anything, the market will hope that Flávio Bolsonaro restores a sense of fiscal discipline, which has been sorely missing under Lula’s administration and in past left-wing governments.
In the grander sense, a victory for Bolsonaro would solidify his family’s position in Brazilian politics for decades to come. For a fleeting moment early in this election cycle, it appeared that the mantle of bolsonarismo might pass to a centre-right candidate from outside the family. Now it’s clear that this clan isn’t ready to bow out. In addition to his father, Flávio’s three brothers and stepmother are all successful politicians.
For Lula, it is a time for soul-searching and emergency manoeuvres. He has 21 days to overcome a deficit of some 2.5 million votes. He has long been regarded as one of Brazil’s most cunning politicians. This will be either his last hurrah or his political farewell.
Last week, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC), the brash, 36-year-old, Democratic socialist congresswoman, was on a barn-storming tour of rural Upstate New York, far from her progressive Queens base. The timing and location are at once completely curious and entirely logical.
Now in her eighth year of government, AOC has emerged as the leading figure among the Democrats’ progressive left wing – and both a potential presidential and senate candidate in 2028. So the question on insiders’ minds in both Washington and Albany is: which job is AOC auditioning for, the presidency or senatorship?
The truth is that it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that AOC is auditioning for something. And most crucially, she clearly realises that despite her youth, this might be the only shot that she has at higher office for the next decade – if not beyond. “It’s very all or nothing,” she said in a recent interview from The New York Times. “If I were to run in this cycle and not win, I would be done.”
Still, Ocasio-Cortez has no fantasies about the obstacles that she faces in preventing her political obsolescence: criticism came fast this summer when she released a video series announcing her decision to freeze her eggs to prolong her fertility. The move hinted at a future campaign of some sorts but, while heartfelt and endearing to many (oversharing to others), it resulted in AOC having to reveal an end to her decade-long relationship with her (now former) fiancé, Riley Roberts. The media-fuelled saga was brief but unnecessarily messy – and amateurish for a would-be national campaign.
AOC also endured a series of geopolitical fumbles at February’s heavy-hitter-filled Munich Security Conference. The gaffes, which included locating Venezuela below the equator, positioned her as a lightweight not yet ready to lead beyond her district of devotees back in Queens.
But timing is everything. Never before have the sun, moon and a handful of constellations aligned so portentously for a major candidate as they have for AOC right now. The socialist wing of the Democrats is not merely having a moment – it’s owning it. Thanks to the election of New York mayor Zohran Mamdani last year, the socialists have secured subsequent mayorships and congressional wins nationwide.
Perhaps most consequentially, Americans are buying what they are selling. According to a recent Gallup poll, 43 per cent of Americans now harbour positive views of socialism. No candidate is poised to better benefit from this ideological makeover than AOC.
As for the races themselves, a senate campaign would be the easiest move for AOC – she would almost certainly win the seat currently occupied by Charles Schumer, the Democrats’ 75-year-old éminence grise with the lowest approval rating of any leading politician in the US. But then there’s the presidency. AOC might be a national figure but she’s still reaching for the bipartisan profile of former vice-president Kamala Harris and California governor Gavin Newsom, who are both likely to run in 2028. But honestly, so what?
AOC’s star power has made her especially adept at raising money. In the first quarter of 2025 alone, she raised nearly $10m (€8.9m) but her cash-collection efforts have yet to be tested at the presidential level. Most crucially, AOC knows how to wow a crowd in authentic and ingenious ways.
While many on the left sat bemoaning Donald Trump’s return to office last year, AOC hit the road with Bernie Sanders on their widely watched Fighting Oligarchy tour. Not only were the pair received like rock stars but the tour proved AOC’s knack for skirting party conventions to rally their base.
Her egg-freezing displayed similar populist, feel-good theatrics. Yes, she had to awkwardly disclose her singleton status but AOC still managed to frame a personal medical decision as a tool for female empowerment, while the Trump administration, she says, compromises reproductive freedoms. This is the type of identity-politics mastery that Harris tried – but ultimately failed – to achieve in 2024 and demonstrates why AOC, rather than Newsom, could prove to be Harris’s true foil.
As for that Munich mess-up, Trump had even less foreign experience than AOC when he ran in 2016 and, a decade later, he’s still in office working to reshape the planet.
In the end, AOC’s ability to raise money could propel her either to the Senate or towards the White House in two years, especially if the Democratic socialists further consolidate their influence with big midterm wins next month. And if so, AOC will not merely be riding a wave – she might be the turn of the tide.
David Kaufman is a contributing writer at Monocle. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.
Bonjour from sunny Paris, where fashion week is in full swing, a postponed Pride parade is snaking through the streets, students are burning bins and smashing windows, the riot trucks and muscular cops are out in full force and there’s a hit of tear gas in the air. Yes, dear reader, Parisians are in their normal groove, doing what they do best: going to elegant events while looking chic, getting wound up over a multitude of topics while looking effortlessly cool and simply striding from A to B while looking super hot. How different Paris is to the 36 hours that I spent in Abu Dhabi earlier in the week, where it was just super hot – in part because the mercury said so, in part because Ryan Reynolds was on stage at the Livex urbanism conference. More on my chat with fellow Canadian Mr Reynolds later in the week.
As the northern hemisphere has officially shifted into cosy season, it’s time for a little autumn quiz. If you’ve participated before, you know the drill. If not, you need to answer the ten questions below and ensure that your answers land in my inbox no later than midday (Zürich time) on Monday. The three brightest sparks will get a copy of Sophie Grove’s hot-off-the-press Konfekt: A Guide to Generous Hosting and a few other little surprises. When submitting your answers, please tell us where you’re based and whether we can use your first name and the initial of your surname when identifying you as one of Monocle’s smartest readers. Ready? Pencil sharpened? Here we go!
1.
You’re in a restaurant with colleagues in the US and you’re really thirsty and hungry. There are a lot of people weaving around the restaurant who very much look like they work there and you’re doing amateur acrobatics to get someone’s attention. Finally someone in an apron approaches your group and offers up something between a wince and a smile. What’s the most annoying thing that they can say to you?
2.
You’re still in the US and you arrive at the reception of a big tech company with a woman who pretends that she’s all smiles and cookies but is, in fact, a distant Californian cousin of one of those bad-ass French riot officers. What is the most grating thing about being “welcomed” at a US corporate HQ these days?
3.
You’ll notice that barrel-leg trousers continue to be all the rage on the rails of certain retailers. While this voluminous look is fine if you have long pins, it also makes those who are shorter than 165cm (5ft 5in) look like circus acts. How many more weeks, months or years will this silhouette endure?
4.
As it’s Paris Fashion Week, can you name the next big maison that’s going to define a whole new space at the top end of the luxury market?
5.
Can you name the most bothersome and overused term in the English language, which should have disappeared from everyday conversation long ago but is still kicking around? Here’s a hint: it comes at an angle.
6.
Were the men who wrestled and restrained the rogue, likely radicalised co-pilot on that Flydubai flight this week really random civilian heroes – or were they rather more professional? Or extras from Fauda?
7.
Why has China, despite all its purchasing muscle and production prowess, not yet managed to create a global luxury brand? Or has it?
8.
Where will Monocle’s next café be opening? And when?
9.
Name the European automotive group that is ramping up production to meet demand for its surprise four-wheel success story. Hint: the vehicle lives across two of the group’s brands.
10.
What is going to be the hottest hotel opening of Q4? Bonus question if you also name the designer and can pronounce their last name properly.
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On a recent Saturday, an Embraer ERJ-135 jet left Farmingdale, New York, for Los Angeles with a cabin full of unlikely passengers. The Retrievair flight was set to take a delegation of two Bernese mountain dogs, a husky and a King Charles spaniel, among others both four- and two-legged, across the US.
Retrievair’s premise is simple: to provide relaxing and comfortable air travel for pets and their owners. The startup, which was founded in 2025 and currently serves US destinations, accepts dogs of any size and breed as long as they are decently socialised (cats are welcome too). The jet makes frequent stops, picking up and dropping off pets along the way. Our flight touched down in private airports near Chicago, Dallas and Scottsdale, en route to our final destination of Van Nuys, California, just north of Los Angeles.
While fares are higher than those of a typical commercial service, they secure a dedicated seat for the dogs, with plenty of space for them to stretch out and ample legroom for the humans. Leads are provided and attached to each seat for takeoff and landing, and during turbulence. All Retrievair asks is that dogs don’t lie down in the aisles and impede evacuation.
Dog owners who want to fly today generally find themselves in a pickle. Short of chartering a private jet, owners have limited options: put their pup, especially larger ones, in the hold – which is stressful for both owner and pet – or pretend it’s a service animal, risking guilt and questioning looks. Many opt to just stay home.
Retrievair is part of a growing market for pet-orientated travel. Another prominent offering is Bark Air, which sits on the higher end of dog-friendly charter services with international connections. Some of its perks include spa services and elevated menu items for dogs, such as bone broth. Semi-private scheduled charter operators Aero and JSX also offer pet seats.
Italy’s ITA Airways recently announced that it will begin offering dedicated tickets for canines that weigh up to 30kg (66lbs), though this scheme is currently limited to those travelling on domestic Italian flights and in business class. Dogs are assigned the window seat next to their owner and given a special mat on the floor.
Because Retrievair flies under different rules than a larger airline, passengers get various perks. They can travel via private fixed-base operators at small airports, skipping TSA security screenings in favour of a quick ID check and a once-over with a metal-detector wand before boarding.
As air passengers are becoming more demanding when it comes to choice and customisation, airlines are eager to oblige (and charge for it, of course). The increasing popularity of pet-first flights is a sign that travellers are fed up with crowded terminals and stressful security queues. Most major airlines worldwide set limits on the number of pets allowed on any given aircraft and often only accept smaller animals, partly due to navigating passengers’ potential sensitivities and allergies. The existence of services such as Bark Air and Retrievair seems to prove that dog owners are willing to pay a premium to sidestep travel stress.
On the recent Retrievair flight across the US, tails stayed mostly wagging. In Farmingdale, dogs had more or less colonised the small private terminal and its sofas as they waited patiently to board. After the canines settled in on the plane, calm and unhurried, the atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed during takeoff. All the dogs seemed to feel at ease. Then came the service: first a drinks and snack basket for the humans, followed by treats for the pups. For the dogs flying multiple segments, this soon became a highly anticipated post-takeoff routine – a treat for everyone on board.
There’s some over-ambitious packing that occurs on the eve of a work trip. Running shoes, gym kit, swimming trunks, canoe: all make their way into the suitcase. Days later, as I prepare to make the journey home again, I usually spot – among the chaos, the wriggle of worn hosiery and now-crumpled shirts – my untouched sports kit. It’s right there, in one corner of my Rimowa suitcase, slumbering with all the intent of a hibernating dormouse. But things switched up on this excursion.
I have been with a Monocle squad at the Livex Liveability & Investment exhibition event in Abu Dhabi this week. On Thursday I found myself doing some very unusual manoeuvres in front of Monocle Radio colleague Tom Webb. We both went for the first time in our lives to a reformer Pilates class. And let me tell you, if my buttocks could speak, they would be calling out to passersby, “Help me! This man just hurt me!”
My downfall began when another colleague started rhapsodising about the thrill of getting reformed at her favourite Abu Dhabi exercise spot, Bodytree. Her name is Ailish – she’s blonde and Irish. I reveal all this because this woman is dangerous. If she approaches you, back away.
Ailish convinced Tom and me – I believe we were drinking cocktails at the time – that we should join her for a guaranteed “fun” workout. But then, an hour before our fitness rendezvous, “something” came up. She vanished. Tom and Tuck would be on their own. Now, though Tom would also be a newbie, he had one big advantage over me: youthfulness. He notches up barely 50 per cent of my time on this planet.
Our instructor turned out to be a nice gentleman called Carlos, while the rest of the class was made up of women who looked like they belonged in the cast of Cats. Carlos explained to these lithe ladies that there were two first-timers in their presence and I heard at least one of them emit a gasp. It seemed that we were in for it.
For anyone unaware of reformer Pilates, you spend the class lying on, kneeling on, interwoven with a sort of bed adorned with straps, resistance springs and metal bars. The last time I’d seen anything that looked like this was when, as a child, I went on a school trip to a medieval castle and spotted the torture devices that pulled the limbs from rebellious peasants. But there was no going back now.
I did my best to follow Carlos’s instructions over the next 50 minutes but there were moments when my lack of co-ordination might have pushed him to the edge. “Arch your back as though you were lying on a watermelon,” he urged me. “No, but keep your chest down!” I think that you would have struggled to pop a kumquat in there without a little bit of a chest lift. But Carlos wanted more. I wondered: would a pomelo suffice?
Things also weren’t helped by the fact that Tom was a natural. “Look at Tom, everyone – he’s flying like Peter Pan!” said Carlos at one point, with the delight of a dance master spotting a new Nureyev in the midst of his class. Or at least a Wayne Sleep. “Oh, just wonderful, Tom!” I hated them both at this point.
Then there was yet another buttock-busting manoeuvre that could, however, be mitigated by holding on to a metal bar. Just as I reached out for this appealing aid, Carlos appeared in front of me. “Give me your hand,” he said rather firmly. So for the next minute, as my cheeks burned like barbecuing spatchcocked chickens, I also had to impersonate a ballroom dance partner, smiling through clenched teeth.
When it was all finally over, we made our way to our team dinner. Ailish was there. “How was it?” she asked, looking, I admit, a mite concerned. It transpired that after she had booked the lessons for us, Bodytree had messaged her a warning – stressed with a red chilli-pepper emoji – that this class would be a little bit brutal for novices.
Look, with time I might forgive her, Tom and perhaps even Carlos, though my derriere will be harder to win over. It has requested to be left alone to think things through. It needs time to regroup.
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The pedestrian mall was a fixture of North American cities from the 1960s to 1980s, typically installed to save ailing retail districts from the onslaught of indoor shopping malls. But as car-crazed North Americans began to migrate from city centres to the suburbs, closing a few blocks to automobile traffic was an insufficient bandage to staunch generational shifts in shopping habits. Few pedestrian malls survived into the 21st century, even as pedestrian zones wove their way into the fabric of cities around the globe. This month, a 1km stretch of London’s Oxford Street will be pedestrianised, finally resolving a longstanding debate about the love-it-or-hate-it high street.
Today, cars once again get caught in the gridlock on downtown Vancouver’s Granville Street. But over the summer, a five-block stretch of this once-bustling, now-struggling road was closed to traffic and opened to people. Originally planned as a short-term intervention to create an outdoor gathering space during the 2026 Fifa World Cup, the plein-air party proved so popular that the city council voted to extend the experiment until 7 September.
Just as the barricades, picnic tables, café seating, outdoor games and public art have been stowed away for winter, there are now calls to bring it back – perhaps for good. “We envision ourselves potentially doing this year-round and longer term,” Councillor Lisa Dominato told the CBC. “Hopefully next summer.”
As the enthusiasm in Vancouver attests, North America has a newfound interest in opening streets where people can stroll and linger. After years of dithering, Seattle has finally banned private cars from the street fronting its famed Pike Place Market for much of the year, while Madison, Wisconsin turned State Street into a pedestrian zone last year. Philadelphia also pedestrianised a stretch of the Benjamin Franklin Parkway earlier this year.
The sometimes-tired, 20th-century pedestrian malls that have persisted are now being rethought. Calgary’s Stephen Avenue completed the first phase of its revitalisation project in late June this year. Civic leaders in Minneapolis are debating how to revive Nicollet Mall, a signature Lawrence Halprin design which James Corner Field Operations previously spruced up. These refreshed versions can be called “the pedestrian mall 2.0” and are part of what the University at Buffalo’s School of Architecture and Planning professor Kelly Gregg describes as “a new moment of questioning the prioritisation of automobiles”.
Pedestrian mall 1.0: Urban renewal and small-city success
Beginning with two blocks of Kalamazoo, Michigan’s Burdick Street in 1959, more than 200 cities across North America converted their streets into pedestrian malls in the mid-20th century. Out went the asphalt and lane markings, and in came trees, benches, water fountains and artful pavers.
Austrian-American architect Victor Gruen – who aimed to recreate the pedestrian experience of his native Vienna – was the mastermind behind the revamp in Kalamazoo, as well as revitalisation plans in Fresno, California; Fort Worth, Texas; Rochester, New York; and Honolulu, Hawaii. Cities flush with federal urban renewal money eagerly hired him and his peers to keep shoppers coming downtown instead of heading to the shiny new malls on the urban fringe – many of which Gruen also designed.
In the end, however, the shopping malls prevailed. “It was a losing strategy economically,” says Gregg, adding that the design of pedestrian malls was “unable to counter the massive economic restructuring that cities were facing”.
The response was sometimes swift. Toronto’s summertime Yonge Street Mall, for example, only lasted four years from 1971 to 1974. And sometimes, it was agonising: Chicago’s State Street Mall limped along for nearly two decades until city leaders put the strip out of its misery in 1996, with a redesign that allowed car traffic and reduced the width of pavements. The city’s downfall was banning cars and bikes but still allowing buses. Instead of ambling along a pleasant street, Chicagoans had to choke on fumes. (Minneapolis is grappling with the same issue today.)
Big cities, such as Toronto and Chicago, were outliers with most pedestrian malls flourishing in smaller towns. While not all survived – Gruen’s mid-century designs were erased from Kalamazoo in 1998 and scrubbed from Fresno in 2017 – one common thread among those that have persisted is a university. Pedestrian malls have thrived in places such as Pearl Street Mall in Boulder, Colorado and The Ithaca Commons in New York state, where students create a steady stream of foot traffic.
Pedestrian mall 2.0: Big-city revival
Pedestrian malls in charming college towns have had an easier run than those in big cities that grapple with higher rates of retail vacancy, property crime, rough sleepers and open-air drug use. It was public safety perception that partly doomed the 20th-century’s pedestrian malls, as the absence of car traffic began to make the streets feel less safe.
The new wave of pedestrian malls, however, is not fixated on bringing customers into a bygone era of downtown shopfronts. “Downtowns are no longer just about retail,” says Gregg. “The pedestrian malls that have adapted are more focused on entertainment, bars and restaurants.”
This was definitely the case on Vancouver’s Granville Street, a designated entertainment district where one in four shopfronts is vacant. “We are fighting very hard to save this street,” says Jane Talbot, the president and CEO of the Downtown Vancouver Business Improvement Association. “We know that people love this street and that when we give them a reason to come to Granville Street, they will.”
Downtown Vancouver’s team programmed a summer of activities in the temporary pedestrian zone: free cotton candy, outdoor DJ sessions, an International Cat Day celebration, a Belmont Cameli lookalike contest, a morning baby rave for families. The list might resemble the lineup on a cruise ship but today’s North Americans are drawn downtown by intensive programming.
In Vancouver’s case, the hyperactivity during the frenzied summer months is part of the city’s seasonal rhythm before winter hibernation, as well as an astute political move. A short-term move towards pedestrianisation “is a tactic that helps with the people who don’t want it,” says Talbot. “They’re far less likely to push back on a seasonal approach.”
The flip side, warned Gregg, is that cities can get stuck in a “permanent temporary” state, unwilling to invest in quality design. New York’s former transportation commissioner Janette Sadik-Khan pushed to close Times Square and five blocks of Broadway to cars in 2009, which is widely considered the vanguard of 21st-century pedestrianisation in North American cities. It took almost a decade, however, to replace flimsy, fold-up café furniture with Snohetta-designed stone benches. As urban design critic Diana Lind writes, “Increasingly, when I see moveable chairs in a public space, I feel that it’s a cop out.”
One city bucking the trend is Denver, whose 16th Street Mall was a late arrival but one that came with star power: architects IM Pei and Henry Cobb collaborated with landscape architect Laurie Olin. The stretch opened in 1982 to public adulation and design plaudits for its “character-defining carpet of diamond-patterned, charcoal-grey, light-grey and Colorado-red granite pavers” inspired by Navajo blankets and rattlesnake skin.
Almost a year ago, the downtown street reopened after a $175m (€151m) revamp that replaced ailing locusts with a healthier tree canopy, upgraded underground utilities and added seating and play areas. By December of last year, the strip was back to pre-2020 levels of vibrancy, according to the Downtown Denver Partnership. But it had also dropped an important moniker in a key sign of the times: it’s just 16th Street now – no “mall” to be found.
