Netflix’s French reality show, L’Agence, or The Parisian Agency: Exclusive Properties, has returned for its sixth season to follow the (actually Boulogne-Billancourt-based) property dynasty, the Kretz family. The programme covers the Kretz’s lives and work, selling outrageously expensive houses and apartments to defiantly unlikeable wealthy international clients. I can’t get enough.

The property porn is off the scale, of course: in this new season we are treated to a tour of Brigitte Bardot’s astonishing 16th-arrondissement mansion, for instance. But it helps that the Kretz family are genuinely likeable too, with Olivier the strict yet sentimental father, Sandrine the powerful matriarch and their four sons: leonine Martin, charming Valentin (whose hair transplant must have posed considerable continuity challenges in this latest series), non-main-character-energy Louis and the indulged youngest, Raphaël, with occasional stagey cameos from Majo, the redoubtable nonagenarian grandmother; and, for some reason, lots of kite surfing.

But the real reason I watch is my undimmed Francophilia, having lived in Paris many years ago. It is a cliché but true that all involved swan about in such an effortlessly French, chic and sexy way. They dress so well, in linens and silk, in stark contrast to the Manosphere/OnlyFans look of the Selling Sunset crowd. They wear costly yet normal-sized watches, eschewing supercars and Rolls-Royces for scooters and e-bikes. And the effortless flirting between the sons and their female clients of all ages is so well-judged and ineffably French, it’s like watching Matisse paint, Ducasse cook or Zidane score a goal. 

Although this is a US-style reality format with all the faux-jeopardy and intimate family moments that entails, as French people they still can’t conceal their awkwardness when asked to stage the set-pieces: everyone involved in the recent gender-reveal party of Valentin’s next child looked suitably embarrassed, for instance. And although the family swims in the Olympic-sized infinity pool of Anglo-Saxon late-stage capitalism – minerals traders complaining that there aren’t enough kitchens in their Mykonos villas, tech bros demanding bigger trainer closets in their Haussmannian apartments – it maintains a defiantly French approach to financial matters too. 

Thus, although they do give us an asking price for most properties, often we never hear whether they sell (I can see from their website that the creepy 100-room €100m+ pseudo chateaux southeast of Paris, owned by the King of Morocco, is still for sale), and when they do make a sale, we are never told for how much. We are never privy to the grubby negotiations of a Homes Under the Hammer, for instance. There is no indulging of the viewer’s base fiscal prurience. After six seasons, I have no inkling of how much the family takes from each transaction, let alone how much they earn, or how they are paid.

Similar in its reassuring Frenchness is the respect-bordering-on-anxiety that the sons seem to have towards their father – a reminder that France is still a “wait until your father gets home” society. Olivier’s authority is final. His approval sacred. But it is Sandrine who pulls the strings.

Naturally, I also enjoy the celebrity cameos. Being French celebrities, I have rarely heard of the actress, sports star or artist who is looking for the perfect Cap Ferret bolthole. Nor do I recognise the names of any of the “famous” interior designers who are to blame for the eye-watering marble-and-brass makeovers of the properties. But I enjoy the family’s excitement when they meet someone who plays “basket”, or was once in a film with Depardieu.

But now the Kretzes are stars themselves of course. Last season, two of the boys walked the red carpet at the Cannes Film Festival. This season’s big news is that they are opening a high-profile retail space in the 7th arrondissement. I don’t need to know how much they earn, or what happened to Martin’s first wife, but I do hope that through all the success and attention they still preserve their essential Frenchness.

Monocle went to Shanghai this week to host a one-day conference about entrepreneurship. These are 10 takeaways from our time in the city.

1.
Shanghai changes at a pace. Even residents of the city told us that they would go away on trips and return to find a street upgraded or a pocket park planted. Delegates who were last in the city five or 10 years ago found the changes disorientating. It’s what happens when work on projects continues at every hour.

2.
The new parks add to a city that’s already very green. Every verge is planted with clipped hedges or banks of flowers. Ancient trees spread their shading branches across the streets.

3.
The city has turned down the volume. Electric cars and trucks silently cross town; beeping your horn can get you fined. But Shanghai has also tackled light pollution and, come night, the flashing neon advertising screens around our hotel all went dark.

4.
While the city builds new towers and polishes up its urban act, what makes Shanghai appealing is that it isn’t all manicured perfection. There are still numerous centuries-old low-rise apartment buildings and lanes lined with modest homes in need of some repairs. There’s texture and it’s appreciated. Art-fair pioneer Bao Yifeng and architect Alex Mok, the co-founder of Linehouse, helped to set up our day with a talk about what makes the city tick. They both said that they have chosen to live not in glitzy enclaves but in the Former French Concession, even if that means dealing with the occasional cockroach.

5.
Texture, layers and shade are also why lots of people walk or cycle around Shanghai – there are well-used bike lanes veining the entire city. And people also escape Shanghai when work gets too much. Tashi Tsering, CEO of hospitality company Songtsam, told the audience about his inns and lodges – he now has 19 – tucked away in the valleys of Yunnan, where people go to hike and reset.

6.
The desire to be in the great outdoors has also helped brand leader Xin Yuan to create an apparel business that caters to a new generation of nature lovers. Before our big day, we visited the headquarters of the label An Ko Rau and it was like entering a fun co-operative. There was a bouldering wall, dogs wandering around (including a porky corgi in need of a tickle) and staff cooking lunch together. And lots of talk about being sustainable.

7.
Luxury brands are still desired in Shanghai but locals told us that more is now expected from retailers pitching up in their city. If you were there to make a quick buck or didn’t have a true or authentic story to tell, you would fail.

8.
The Made in China label still faces challenges when it comes to the worlds of fashion, beauty and design. But lots of people are out to change that. Yisa He, founder of Shanghai-based beauty brand Herbeast, was just one of the speakers who spoke about the power of provenance and how she is finding cut-through for products that combine Chinese medicine and modern design. She’s about to open her first shop.

9.
And that’s another interesting shift. A market known for being an early adopter of e-commerce has rediscovered the allure of physical shops. Austin Zhu, founder of Zzer, spoke about his business. He runs a series of vast warehouses where you can go for consigned fashion from all the biggest luxury brands. He has used technology to create trust around authenticity and business is booming. People want to be in his spaces, not just clicking online.

10.
China makes some very nice wines. The final panel of the day involved drinking alcohol, something that I am very good at, and so, alongside my Tokyo colleague Fiona Wilson, I was very happy to help run this session. On stage were also sommelier King Wang from the Jing An Shangri-La and winemaker Emma Gao, a woman with great eyewear and a big, sunny personality. Trained in France, Gao makes delicious reds, as well as white and sparkling wines. It was worth going to Shanghai just to hear her story. And perhaps that’s really the key takeaway from this week – it’s good to get a different perspective every now and then. Especially if you have a glass of Emma’s Reserve in your hand.

To read more from Andrew Tuck, click here. 

This week sees the start of the Venice Biennale’s Vernissage – the preview week for press and VIPs – but there is disquiet among the gardens and waters of La Serenissima. The run-up to the “Art Olympics” has been dominated by an explosive row over who’s taking part. The resulting furore has now reached its crescendo: the entire Biennale jury has resigned and Alessandro Giuli, the Italian minister for culture, has launched an investigation into Russia’s pavilion.  

Designed by Alexey Shchusev in the early 20th century, Russia’s pavilion is a grand, imposing building in Venice’s Giardini – prime real estate in Biennale terms. For the first time since the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the building will be used to showcase the country’s chosen artists. (The exhibition, a performance titled The tree is rooted in the sky, conjures the image of a topsy turvy reality that feels particularly apt here.)

Russia owns its Giardini building and the Biennale’s constitution says that any country recognised by the Italian government is entitled to take part. To some extent, then, a country can decide how they participate and Russia’s absence in recent years (its artist and curator withdrew in 2022 and Bolivia used the pavilion in 2024) has been their choice. Now, not only Russia’s return but the inclusion of Israel in the event has caused consternation throughout the art world. For the five-person jury – tasked with giving prizes to the pavilions and appointed by the Biennale’s late curator, Kuyo Kouoh – the compounding controversies have clearly become untenable. What is unclear, and what will likely be at the heart of Giuli’s inquiries, is whether EU sanctions have been violated in the staging of Russia’s show. 

The power of art to transcend or entrench political realities is always part of what makes the Venice Biennale the event that it is. But to witness such deep divisions – before even a single guest has disembarked the vaporetto – hints at something more profound. For the next six months, Venice will not only take the temperature of contemporary art in 2026; the city will also play host to a much bigger story about which conflicts and countries deserve uproar in the public imagination, and whether even egregious acts can be quietly forgotten with time. Over the coming months there will be much more than paintings and sculptures reflected in the waters of Venice.

American Airlines (AA) resumed service to Caracas yesterday for the first time in more than seven years. It’s a pivotal moment for AA, which long dominated routes to the country and was once a busy market for the airline. At its peak, the airline served Venezuela out of Miami, Dallas, New York and even San Juan, Puerto Rico. This time things look very different, at least for now. The company is testing the waters with a daily 76-seat Embraer flight from Miami, operated by subsidiary Envoy Air. 
 
The service resumption follows the US capture of Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro in January. Since then, relations have been gradually normalising. Mutual accessibility is a crucial factor in that rebuild – and it is also a major business victory for AA. Initial fares for the three-and-a-half-hour flight went on sale at more than $800 (€682) for a one-way economy seat and a minimum $1,490 (€1,270) for business class. Presumably a steady flow of diplomats, oil executives and entrepreneurs looking to take advantage of thawing relations will be lining up to pay such fares and skip the stop in Panama City or Bogotá. 

But lining these seats will also be long-separated family members who will be keener than any for flights to proliferate and prices to drop. Critically, there is now a visa portal where US citizens can get e-visas to enter Venezuela – an impossibility in recent years that has certainly led to quite a bit of pent-up demand. Expect to see larger mainline aircraft flying between the two countries from more cities before long, as well as a second daily Miami-Caracas flight that is already planned for late May.
 
Naturally, other airlines, including Venezuelan carriers, are eager to resume their own US service as soon as possible. When I visited Venezuela in 2024, I spent time at the headquarters of the airline Avior in Barcelona, just down the coast from Caracas. On a warm January day, as mechanics performed heavy maintenance on a classic Boeing 737 outside, senior staff gathered around an office whiteboard. The heading scrawled in marker pen read: “US start-up”. Below that were about 30 bullet points listing the various regulatory and legal hurdles that would need to be cleared in order to restart the coveted Miami service. 
 
In other words, Avior – and no doubt others in the country – have been preparing for this day for years. But one problem remains: the US Federal Aviation Administration designates Venezuela as an IASA Category 2 country, meaning that it does not meet minimum international safety standards; combine that with prohibitions from the Department of Transport and the Department of Homeland Security and the country’s airlines are therefore banned from flying to the US, regardless of the political situation.
 
Not content to wait around, Venezuelan carrier Laser Airlines announced just days ago that it will begin Miami flights of its own but with a catch: the flights will actually be operated by an American carrier named Global X, onboard one of its A320 aircraft. Global X, it just so happens, is the carrier with a sizeable contract to operate ICE deportation flights (reportedly around 80 per cent of the total, including direct services to the notorious Cecot prison in El Salvador that the US government contracted to take many of its deportees). It’s a plan that feels rather on-brand for the current US administration: forcibly deport people from the US to Venezuela, then offer sky-high fares for the return leg on the same aircraft.
 
But for airlines on either side of the Caribbean, it’ll be a matter of getting their foot in the door, whatever way possible, and rebuilding a once-lucrative market. Keep in mind that in a much different era, Caracas once saw a Concorde service from Paris. Many will be hoping to see similar high points once again. 

But we’re not quite there yet. The US remains bullish in this corner of the world. Just one day before the Miami-Caracas resumption, AA unveiled an Embraer jet adorned in a special livery celebrating the 250-year anniversary of the founding of the US, with the number painted prominently across the fuselage in the colours of the American flag. You can guess which aircraft they sent to Caracas yesterday.

Gabriel Leigh is Monocle’s transport correspondent. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.

The setting for prime minister Mark Carney’s announcement of Canada’s first national sovereign wealth fund could not have been more redolent of his country’s past ambitions. On Monday, standing at a lectern in the Locomotive Hall of the Canada Science and Technology Museum in Ottawa, Carney evoked the generational effort to construct the Canada-Pacific Railway more than a century ago; the country’s first national project after gaining its sovereignty in 1867. 

“Facing at that time an economic depression and threats to our sovereignty from our southern neighbour,” said Carney, nodding to history’s apparent rhyme in today’s context, “Canadians chose to build.” And it’s in that spirit that his government has set up the Canada Strong Fund – a project as consequential as the one represented by the gleaming steam train behind him.

This is perhaps Carney’s boldest move in office so far. It also confirms that the dominant theme that brought him to power a year ago – countering the economic threat posed to Canada by a hostile US – is still very much his guiding principle. 

Full details are still to be published by Carney’s government – something his critics have been quick to pounce on. The populist leader of the opposition Conservative Party has already dismissed the endeavour as a “Liberal slush fund” for a government that spends too much. But here’s what we know so far. Set up with an initial endowment of CA$25bn (€15.6bn), the fund will be managed by a Crown corporation, a federal body that operates independently from the government. Its focus will be on landmark domestic-infrastructure investments, initially in mining, ports and technology. It will be open to a mix of stakeholders – public and private, home and overseas – as well as to individual Canadians, who will be able to buy in to some of the projects being financed by the fund, for a return on that investment at some point down the line. 

The Canadian reaction to the new fund has been mixed – the conservative-leaning premier of Saskatchewan, for example, was thrilled at the prospect. For others, the unanswered questions surrounding the fund outweigh its promised benefits. “I’m a bit of a sceptic, for a couple of reasons,” says David Soberman, a professor at the Rotman School of Management at the University of Toronto. “The question you have to ask yourself when these funds are put together is: would it be better for the government to take these assets and put them into a sovereign wealth fund to be managed by the government? Or would it be better for them to use the assets that are going into the fund to reduce national debt?” That debt currently stands at about CA$80bn (€49.97bn). “But one of the most important things with a sovereign wealth fund is how it’s managed – if it is taken care of by an independent board that truly knows how to invest funds, that is one thing. But if a sovereign wealth fund becomes politicised, then it becomes a problem.”

There are models already in place in Canada that might prove instructive to how the fund will work. The Canada Pension Plan (CPP) or even the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Fund – Canada’s largest single-profession pension plan with net assets of CA$279bn (€174.8bn) – are each managed independently of the government. They have been very successful in their investments, as well as the yields they’ve earned for those who pay into them. 

Carney’s big challenge is to convey to Canadians how profound and, perhaps, permanent, the change is. All spurred, of course, by the manoeuvres of a now-hostile neighbour. “Hope isn’t a plan and nostalgia is not a strategy,” said Carney recently in a video address. 

Canada, broadly speaking, is a country whose operating approach often stems from the comfort of the status quo. To mark the first year of the coronavirus pandemic, for instance, one of Canada’s big current-affairs magazines published a memorable editorial that decried that sense of national complacency, stating that for too long “good enough has been good enough”. It explained that the country’s handling of the outbreak, particularly the fragmented and often chaotic roll-out of vaccinations, should push Canadians to want for something better. Did it have the desired effect? Not really. But here we are now, at a time when most of the long-held assumptions about the way Canada’s economy works, and what it’s anchored to, have been cut from their moorings.

Carney is trying to recast basic principles in the minds of the country that he governs, as the old assumptions of how the nation operates continue to get chipped away. In principle, a new national sovereign wealth fund is surely a good thing. Canada is a wealthy country, so it should behave like one, particularly at a time of seismic tremors in the world order. But neither words nor principles alone – much like hope and nostalgia – amount to a plan. That lies in the work, hard though it might be.

Further reading:
‘You can’t be truly sovereign by yourself’: Mark Carney talks to Monocle about geopolitical pragmatism and a confident Canada

On film: Monocle in conversation with Prime Minister Mark Carney

US president Donald Trump is not known for bowing to convention – or bowing to anything for that matter. True to form, he didn’t greet King Charles III at the start of the latter’s state visit on Monday with a dip of the head but rather his customarily hearty handshake. And yet for all his outsider posturing, few things seem to please the president more than attention from the British Royals. He was in buoyant form all week, revelling in the pomp and pageantry, and embracing his role as sidekick King to the real thing. 

Nothing could spoil the mood. Even after a pointed speech to lawmakers in US Congress on Tuesday in which Charles made oblique references to constitutional checks on power and the importance of the Nato alliance, Trump remained effusive, calling it “a great speech”. At a lavish dinner of spring ramps, herbed ravioli and dover sole meunière, Trump grinned and chuckled as Charles dropped well-timed jokes about the 1814 British firebombing of the White House and how Trump “would be speaking French” if it weren’t for the English. All in all, the King’s speech was pitch-perfect, giving the feeling of good-natured ribbing between old friends. 

Sure, there was the small matter of the president breaking convention and sharing a private conversation with a monarch when he claimed Charles “agrees with me, even more than I do” about curtailing Iran’s nuclear ambition. But that was a mere blip, and when ties between the US and its traditional allies across the pond are severely strained, it’s a welcome diplomatic success. 

Since Trump took office in January last year, relations with Europe have been plummeting into an abyss. First Trump pulled back from supporting Ukraine, then threatened to invade Greenland and is now engaged in a full-scale retribution campaign against Nato allies who did not support his war against Iran. 

Europe’s leaders have been lining up at the White House door to try and repair relations. Taking it in turns for ritual humiliation in the Oval Office, they sit with rictus smiles as Trump rakes them over the coals on tariffs, defence spending and other pet peeves. 

There was no such confrontational diplomacy this week. Given that the US is celebrating 250 years since its independence from the British monarchy and many European countries are cooling on their own scandal-prone royals, there is an irony that it took a King to thaw the ice. But is the job really done? Are all fences mended and bridges rebuilt? Not so fast. Charles is far from the first visiting dignitary to pay their respects at the court of King Trump and leave feeling like they are best friends forever. 

In early 2025, Trump stood next to a beaming Keir Starmer at a White House press conference, praising him and his “beautiful accent”. It provoked a rosy glow in British diplomatic circles and a feeling that the special relationship was alive and well. Now he is calling Starmer “not Winston Churchill” and a man who “ruins relationships”, while also apparently questioning Britain’s claim over the Falkland Islands.

Similarly, French president Emmanuel Macron’s early White House visit was all knee-touching and back-slapping with a jovial US commander-in-chief. Now, Macron is on the receiving end of Trump’s tasteless jibes about his wife. 

It is highly unlikely that Trump is going to turn around after the royals depart and make similarly crude comments about King Charles and Queen Camilla, as he appears to have genuine respect for the British monarchy. But for a man who demands absolute loyalty from his acolytes, he gives out very little in return to his international allies, and when there is any deviation from his policy goals, all the goodwill evaporates. While Trump scoffs at the regular No Kings protests across the US and claims that he has no desire for absolute rule, his demands for absolute allegiance is clear – crown or no crown. 

Featuring Monocle’s annual Design Awards, a tour around Cairo’s regenerated downtown and our timekeeping special. Discover the creative director to watch, the camera to buy and the dining chair for your home.

Plus: hear from the world’s best designers, architects, chefs and more about their favourite timepieces – and welcome special canine models for the watches of the season.

The recent completion of the Artemis II mission was meant to remind us that space can still be a shared frontier. Artemis represents a step toward sustained lunar exploration and, eventually, Mars. Yet that hopeful image sits alongside a harder reality: space is becoming a contested strategic domain and the gap between rhetoric and security practice is expanding like the universe. 
 
The current state of arms control in space paints a picture of regulations that are thin, incomplete and increasingly outpaced by events. The 1967 Outer Space Treaty still bans weapons of mass destruction in orbit and on celestial bodies but it does not prohibit all military activity in space, nor does it provide a detailed rulebook for counter-space competition. Today’s UN process is therefore trying to manage the problem rather than solve it outright. In 2025, the General Assembly established a new open-ended working group for 2025-2028 to issue recommendations on preventing an arms race in outer space. That’s diplomacy but not disarmament.

The more immediate question is whether there are real prospects of open conflict in orbit. The answer is yes, in the sense that militaries are now planning for it as a live contingency. US Space Command planners are preparing for the first major war in space and Western officials increasingly speak of space as a war-fighting domain. Yet the more unsettling problem is that conflict is not a clear exchange of blows; instead, it is emerging as a pattern of coercion, rehearsal and ambiguity. That makes escalation harder to detect and therefore easier to misinterpret.
 
A lot that we can see in orbit looks a great deal like preparation for conflict. China, Russia, the US and India have all conducted anti-satellite weaponry tests, leaving behind debris that risks collisions with hardware. More recently, there have been reports of Chinese satellites practising co-ordinated “orbital dogfights”, as well as a Russian spacecraft that shadowed a US reconnaissance satellite for nearly two years. 
 
Alongside this are persistent concerns about jamming, lasers, cyberattacks and close-proximity operations. European responses reflect this shift: France is developing patrol satellites to monitor adversaries; the United Kingdom is investing in sensors to detect laser threats; Germany is building a large encrypted military constellation; and the EU is expanding capabilities to improve resilience against GPS interference.
 
Recent reporting related to Iran is particularly sobering because it illustrates how space-based capabilities are being integrated directly into terrestrial warfare. In April, Iran reportedly acquired a Chinese spy satellite and used it to monitor US military sites in the Middle East. At the same time, Russia has been providing Tehran with targeting information on US warships and aircraft. Taken together, these developments point to a future in which orbital assets do not merely underpin deterrence; they actively enhance strike capabilities on the ground.
 
None of this is unfolding in a spacious or forgiving environment. Earth’s orbit is increasingly crowded and fragile, with more than 14,000 satellites and an estimated 120 million pieces of debris in low-Earth orbits. Even debris as small as one centimetre can be lethal, as the extreme speeds of hypervelocity impacts give such fragments enough force to disable a satellite or trigger catastrophic fragmentation. 
 
This congestion has prompted warnings that parts of the atmosphere could become unusable without improved co-operation and data-sharing. Governments and commercial actors are acutely aware of how the security problem and the congestion problem are becoming one and the same. Starlink has announced a 2026 reconfiguration to lower its satellites and reduce collision risks. 
 
And yet the most likely response from space powers will be familiar: to harden their positions. This will mean more patrol satellites, more resilient constellations, expanded electronic warfare capabilities and a greater emphasis on redundancy over vulnerability. Artemis II might have revived hopes of a co-operative future but the strategic environment surrounding it is moving in a harsher direction; toward a space order defined by enduring competition.
 
Gorana Grgić is Monocle’s security correspondent. To hear about what’s next for the space economy, tune in to Monocle Radio’s ‘The Bulletin with UBS’. And for more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.

No matter who you are or where you live, you share a daily habit with the majority of the world. This morning, you, your neighbour, your children’s teacher and your tailor got dressed. For many, the routine is banal: combining various items that amount to a socially presentable outfit. But for some, the practice is an act of self expression and an opportunity to play with texture, colour and silhouette.

The difference between being well-dressed and well, dressed, often hinges on the garments’ fit, but it can also be distinguished by sartorial choices that reflect your personality. A relaxed mood might warrant fabrics that drape, while an alert attitude could draw one to dark colours and angled tailoring. In short, the key to dressing well is to maintain flexibility and to know that the rules are made to be broken.

Monocle asked three particularly fashionable people for their styling advice. The overwhelming consensus is to avoid pre-ripped jeans at all costs, to ignore trends and logos, and remember that life is long, so invest in clothes that will stick around. Here are their tips for creating a quality wardrobe.

Atsushi Hasegawa

The head of creative at luxury hotel The Newt in Somerset, Atsushi Hasegawa can be spotted wandering around its verdant grounds in a straw boater, longline linen shirt or even a kimono-inspired work jacket that he designed for UK gardening brand Niwaki. Hasegawa was born in Japan and became fascinated with fashion in the late 1980s, when he worked at Vivienne Westwood’s Tokyo shop. A passion for fly fishing brought him to Paris, where he worked at Maison de la Mouche, a shop that caters to the outdoors hobby. After about 10 years in the city, where he also worked in textile design, Hasegawa crossed the Channel to become the head of creative concept at footwear brand Clarks. Today he oversees The Newt’s visual identity, marketing activities and cultural partnerships.

Hasegawa’s tips for dressing well

Know thyself 
“Clothes protect you so I’m serious about what I wear. As I get older, I know that what matters is what suits your body, your height, your posture. I’m quite obsessed with understanding what kind of hats suit me.”

Keep pieces around
“I collect clothes and never throw anything away. I still have clothes that I bought when I was 18 because I don’t want to be a part of throwaway culture.”

Dress the way you feel
“When life gets stressful, I become almost punk and more expressive. When I’m more relaxed, it’s reflected in my laidback clothing.”

Improvise
“I’m a DJ and only mix with seven-inch vinyls with the aim of seamlessly connecting everything without planning. I like to do the same with getting dressed, almost in a half-stressed state and with only 20 minutes to get ready. I start with one item and then co-ordinate from there.”

Maria Lemos

Maria Lemos certainly knows how to dress the part. The Greek-born entrepreneur has been running Mouki Mou, one of the most elegant retail addresses on London’s Chiltern Street, for more than a decade. Her knowledge of craft, textiles and the best makers to watch is practically endless. A sharp point of view and an appreciation for quality inform everything that Lemos does. Whether she is dressing herself, selecting new labels to stock in her boutiques or choosing a location for her next project, she’s not one to follow trends or veer away from her own aesthetic.

Lemos’ advice for a considered wardrobe

Build a wardrobe over time
“I was recently wearing a wool Lemaire dress that I picked up at the end of the season because no one else had bought it, yet I kept getting compliments on it. These clothes are ageless by nature; you can wear items from years ago and everything fits together. You’re building a wardrobe over time – but that does require a level of confidence.”

Invest in quality pieces
“I keep pieces that are more than 30 years old and it’s all about quality. They might have cost a fortune at the time but they remain in amazing condition and I still wear them.”

Build confidence in your choices
“Something happens when you hit your mid-fifties – you really know where you’re going. Until then, you’re always trying different things out. It’s about knowing yourself and bouncing things off the people around you. That’s why I like being around young, creative people.”

Luxury should feel curated and personal 
“For many in the past, [luxury] was about buying into [established] brands, which have become oversaturated… Buying clothes should be the same; it should feel personal.”

Hirofumi Kurino

Japan’s sartorial big hitters have long intrigued the fashion world – and Hirofumi Kurino is right up there as one of the most influential figures in menswear. A co-founder of Japanese fashion retailer United Arrows (UA), where he is now a senior adviser, Kurino’s signature blend of high and low – a tailored jacket and New Balance trainers – is easy to admire and hard to imitate. Relentlessly snapped by street photographers, Kurino knows how to appreciate craftsmanship, whether in an Italian shirt, Japanese wool trousers or a good tweed, but he will happily try something new. Comfortable in his own skin, unfailingly courteous and curious about the world, Kurino, who is also a consultant for Japanese manufacturing organisation J-Quality, is the embodiment of great style.

How Kurino creates his outfits 

Go with the flow
“There’s no formula. Sometimes I choose my clothes the night before, sometimes I decide in the morning. It depends if I have a certain image in my mind.”

Find your true colours
“Colour is key for me when I’m choosing what to wear; it’s more important than the fit. Royal blue is my favourite.”

If it isn’t working, change it
“If I head out in the morning and something doesn’t feel right – maybe the socks are wrong – I’ll turn back.”

Follow you own rules
“I don’t like rules for dressing and age is irrelevant but I do avoid logos and big luxury brands, and I don’t like pre-ripped jeans. If my jeans tear naturally, that’s different.”

Find your staples and stick to them
“I still wear a lot of jackets and suits. I’m a big fan of Caruso suits; I love the way they’re relaxed but elegant. I’m interested in mass production and love the socks from my nearby supermarket. I also go to a local barber. I’ve had my hair the same way for 30 years – if I go somewhere fancy my hair will look the way the stylist wants and not like me.”

For more on creating your own style, read:  
– Adopt your own look: The case for dressing in a personal uniform

The fact that all emergency services in Venice travel on water is something that still fills me with child-like enthusiasm. Ambulances, firefighters and carabinieri speed around on motorboats emblazoned with insignia. These vessels are my first memory of the city. When visiting as a child, having made the journey from my hometown of Turin, I was in awe of the novelty – to me, they looked like irresistible Playmobil toys. Little did I know that, more than 20 years later, I would be back in the city to report on their activities and the logistical challenges they face for a Monocle story that involved zooming across the lagoon on a police boat (not handcuffed in the back, fortunately).

Every story that has taken me back to Venice over the years shares that same sense of wonder – from observing the glass-blowers in Murano reinventing a millennia-old craft to hopping across the vintage bagni on the Lido, which appear straight out of a mid-century postcard. Perhaps because of the city’s pull on visitors worldwide, Italians often have a disenchanted view on it: we like to show that we are keenly aware of the city’s issues and are attuned to its reality. 

And yet, no matter how level-headed I have tried to be, I have always fallen for it. Something shifts the moment you walk out of Marco Polo airport, down to the taxis and vaporetto piers, and smell the salty air of the lagoon: how can you not be excited about a city built on water?

Still, what makes Venice so inviting is that despite the much-discussed spectre of overtourism, it remains a functioning city where you can still catch glimpses of the everyday. Almost a decade ago, when working on the Venice installment of The Monocle Travel Guide Series, the team and I based ourselves in the city for a few weeks, during a freezing January before Carnival started. It was then that I really came to understand Venetian rhythms as I waited for the frenzy of the day to give way to the quiet of the evening, when a different kind of life re-emerged in the bacari. 

I was in charge of the guide’s retail chapter, and hunting for independent workshops took me to the residential sestieri – since then, I tend to spend most of my time here in Cannaregio, Castello or Dorsoduro. Speaking to the districts’ artisans and designers gave me a clear picture of their struggles but I also witnessed an enduring sense of pride and determination. Nevermind us visitors who idealise: Venetians are the people who are most enamoured by this splendid city.

Many of the hotels, restaurants, bars, cafés and shops that I discovered on my explorations then form the backbone of our online Venice guide – proof that businesses with soul can survive here. I have accrued the rest over the years during visits to the Art and Architecture Biennale, when having a sharp dinner-booking game can open new doors. 

Arguably, it’s the job of any good travel guide to help readers steer clear of over-hyped locales, and that role is even more important when it comes to Venice. So our list of recommendations invites you to veer off into quiet, narrow calli and discover what still makes this such a seductive city. Because despite its traditions and past riches, Venice has become an edgy centre of contemporary art and design – somewhere young generations still find inspiration and purpose. 

Read next: The Monocle City Guide to Venice, featuring the best hotels, restaurants and retail spots