Lisbon
About three blocks from my apartment, a new district is on the rise and my goodness, it’s going up fast. I can’t help but think that the partial Chinese ownership of Fidelidade – the insurance and financial group developing the new district – might have something to do with the speed with which foundations have been dug and towers erected. While it could do with some Beijing-style perimeter security overnight to deter the sprayers who deface the hoardings, the Entrecampos development looks like a promising addition to Lisbon’s cityscape despite its detractors. A new development can jar with its neighbours and this scheme, by any measure, is no small footprint – think a scaled-down version of Tokyo Midtown. But then again, it’s revitalising a long-derelict site with solid architecture, plenty of green space, a host of services and, in the process, creating a satellite city centre for the Portuguese capital. The best news? It promises to have the top gourmet food hall in the city.

London
On Monday we hosted one of our Minglers at Midori House. These in-house events are part business update, part inspiration and part extended aperitivo, bringing everyone from Monocle and its sister agency, Winkreative, up to speed on what’s happening across the world. We always hear from a sparky speaker and for this edition, Ruth Rogers of The River Café pulled up a chair and talked about everything from the basics of being a sharp entrepreneur to building a podcast business and knowing when to walk away from a deal. Most importantly, she reminded the assembled crowd about the power of hosting and getting the simple things right. Five days on, she has left me wondering what we should do for an encore in late October.

Paris
It felt as though half of Monocle was on one of the very early Eurostars on Tuesday morning and the station was rammed. Every time I take the service, I’m left thinking about all the missed opportunities to improve the offer, ease bottlenecks and deliver something simply better. I could go on but I’ll save that for another column. Meanwhile, the French capital was putting on a good show at 29C under sunny skies, with streets full of architects, decorators, journalists and brand owners all in town for Paris Design Week. As the sun dipped, we hosted cocktails for journalists and creatives at our café on Rue Bachaumont. Paris was electric, looking and feeling its best. After a summer break, it was a delight to be back.
 
San Francisco
On Wednesday I landed in San Francisco just after midday. As the plane’s wheels kissed the tarmac (nice landing, monsieur Air France 777 captain!), I was bracing myself for the queues and chaos of US immigration. How wrong I was! I made it from the aircraft door to the back seat of the car in seven minutes. Count ‘em! Seven! It helped that the immigration hall was empty but it wasn’t as though there were no international flights arriving. Do we have the current administration to thank for this efficiency? Or is SFO an example of a well-managed airport doing its own thing to be friendly and efficient? Either way, thank you.
 
Tokyo
The SFO to HND (Tokyo Haneda) flight on ANA got in at about 03.00. As I arrived on a Saturday morning, much of Tokyo was still awake and moving on to the next bar, lounge or club. It has taken a while but Tokyo’s nightlife felt as though it was back in full swing, despite it being a long weekend in Japan. Was I tempted to have the car stop in Ginza and meet up with some of my POTN (people of the night) at a tiny bar for a song or two? Briefly. My sensible side got the better of me and whispered that five cities across three continents in 96 hours was enough for one week and that a proper sleep, in a real bed, might be the more sensible thing to do. I believe that I made the right decision but I’ll never know the delights that I might have missed. Thankfully, I’ve already got a trip planned for October when it’s that little bit cooler, when the leaves turn and when Tokyo’s retailers stock their autumn collections. Can’t wait.

Enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’? Click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns.

When thinking about the much-discussed concepts of personal style and taste, Neelam Ahooja’s name springs to mind. The Toronto-based accountant-turned-stylist has built a loyal audience thanks to her ability to cut through the noise and dress for herself. She is a proponent of minimalism and frequently turns to the 1990s for inspiration yet she manages to make every look her own with personal touches, such as with one-of-a-kind vintage pieces or embellished accessories that hark back to her East Indian heritage. 

Here she breaks down her signature look – achieved through years of collecting and confidence-building – and offers advice on how to find yours. 

How did you develop your sense of style? 
I was never really conventional with my style and I think a lot of it has to do with the way I look. I felt I could never look aristocratic because of my [curly] hair; it has a life of its own most days. I spent a lot of time fighting what was naturally given to me but at some point I decided to work around it. Now, after a long time, I’ve embraced it and it has become very much an extension of my personality and style. My hair is as important, if not more important, than the clothes I wear. Depending on what kind of hair day I’m having, it dictates what I wear.

Were you always a minimalist? 
For a long time [my style] was a lot busier: I wore a lot of patterns, prints and colours. There were many pieces by Dries Van Noten, Victorian-inspired jackets and big skirts. Part of that came from having East Indian heritage: our culture is so rich in details, from collars and beading to embellishment. But around the [coronavirus] pandemic, I felt a little fatigued from having so much on the body. I’m ageing and I want things to be easy. I don’t feel the need to have as many accessories. Plus, I have always had minimalism in my heart; I [came of age] in the 1990s with images of Kate Moss and Carolyn Bessette. 

What is it about the 1990s that feels so relevant today? 
I spent many years in the 1990s as an accountant going to the office every day in suiting. One of the reasons I went into finance was because I wanted to wear a suit and carry a briefcase. I have never wanted to return to the profession but since the coronavirus pandemic, I began wanting to dress like I did back then. If I look back at the decade when I felt really good, really empowered, really confident, it was the 1990s – whether I was at the office or with my friends at a bar. I came all the way back to that style and who you’re seeing now. This is who I am. 

Style has become quite homogenous because of the access that everyone has to social media. How do you avoid falling into that trap? 
We all influence each other in every industry, in every corner of life. My father influenced me when I was young to be a good person and to read more; my children teach me to live more lightly through them. In fashion too: everyone is influenced to a certain extent if we’re seeing the same images. But with age it becomes much easier for me to ignore the noise. 

You can follow the trend of the decade – oversized blazers and suiting in this case – but within  that very big box, you have the liberty to make the look your own. I might have a vintage Prada bag thrown in with a [contemporary] outfit, so it’s never a replica of the runway look.

Any other tips for people trying to dress in a way that feels more individualist? 
To avoid trends you have to stick to what looks good on you. For instance, high-waisted trousers on someone with my height and proportions don’t work. Also, always choose comfort over anything else. You’ll rarely see me in high heels. If something feels itchy, I won’t wear it. I like things to be oversized and a little sloppy so that I can sit in my car and drive around.  

What are some of the brands you keep returning to? 
There’s a handful of brands whose aesthetic I really love. La Collection, designed by Florence Cools in Amsterdam, is one of them. I live in her designs and appreciate how in touch she is with her audience. I think that comes from the fact that she started small with her husband. They built the brand up and she is still close to the ground. If I want to play around with embellishment, I’ll wear my Dries Van Noten scarves – I have a whole collection and I love them. 

What is your take on dress codes? 
I don’t care what anybody else is doing. I was at an event recently and I wore a very classic white shirt with a black maxi skirt and boots, while my friend showed up in a bright floral tunic that was so vibrant. Someone else was wearing denim at the same event. We need to allow others to express themselves in their own way.

I believe that with fashion you need to leave the rules behind and do what feels good. You can’t be dogmatic about it: getting dressed is a form of expression and it’s ever changing.

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Further reading: Three exceptionally stylish people on the art of dressing well

I marvel at the CVs that land on my desk. People in their twenties who have had more life experiences than Scott of the Antarctic, speak more languages than Duolingo can muster and who, in their summer holidays, have saved large chunks of the planet – or at least fostered a gibbon for a few weeks (“gave me a greater appreciation of the challenges of having very long arms”). And I’m not just talking about people whose names feature more barrels than a bank robber’s shotgun or whose home address mentions the words Schloss or The Manor. 

I went to a very rare gathering of my entirely normal – well, sort of – family the other day and met lots of distant teenage relatives whom, like the older people I used to loathe, I quizzed in detail about their lives. One, aged 16 and something of a mathematics prodigy, is already attached to a prestigious university where he’s looking at new ways of generating energy from wave power (no smoking behind the bike shed). Another was using his gap year to do a business diploma and I quote, “for fun”. I asked him whether he might be able to find the time for an ayahuasca trip in Colombia or at least start sleeping around with some unsuitable partners? Despite him looking a little rock’n’roll, he said that he preferred to use his spare time to prepare himself for the world of work.

Then I had dinner with friends in Hampstead, where their youngest son was preparing to start at a new sixth-form college (the final two years in the UK before university) that encourages students to take time off each week to assist on community projects. I imagine that senior citizens in their part of north London must fear leaving their homes in case yet another teenager insists on carrying their shopping bags or giving them a fireman’s lift up the steep incline of Hampstead High Street. 

Often, after I have read a pile of these extraordinary CVs, I am left with one worry. Today, right now, would I interview my younger self? If my CV when I was 21 slipped into the pile, would I scrawl “must see” on the covering letter?

I certainly lacked any hobbies that would catch a recruiter’s attention today, let alone some AI-powered CV scraper (nowadays you need a few eye-catchers: Ethiopian cinema, putting on West End shows, the electronic lute – ideally all three). And there was no second language to boast about (my German being barely proficient enough to secure a bratwurst in an emergency). And as for volunteering? I was too busy playing records.

But I did have a lot of work experience. How about that summer job washing dishes (only, problem: I was fired after one day for being too chatty). I had another holiday job in a toy factory where my friend Nick and I had to sort through returned products to discover the problem – “Bucking Bronco refuses to buck” being our go-to explanation with that particular game. I had also been a barman in a theatre, which was mostly fun, though being in a fairly Irish part of the city, there were endless unhelpful commentaries on my Guinness-pouring skills. And I was a waiter, which I loved, especially when we would finish off the wine that guests had left in their bottles after service. Then I hit my stride and, for several university holidays, worked in Liberty’s fabric department where I became a little over-confident at assessing how much fabric, say, a stout lady might need for a knee-length summer smock. But none of it was quite the stuff of a recruiter’s dreams.

And yet, while CVs are, of course, powerful tools, I still think it’s hard to beat a good cover letter. It’s here that you can shine, allow your personality a chance to do the heavy lifting. Be enthusiastic. Not sound too much like the Pope but kinder. I must have written a couple of persuasive ones along the way because occasionally people called me in for an interview.

But when I look at the CVs of young people today and I see the slog that people have put into preparing themselves for a hard-to-enter job market, I return to that question: would I have interviewed me at 21? Or would I be destined for a life of trying to determine what ails the Bucking Bronco?

“China’s development has progressed at such a fast pace that we have lost the joy of living,” says Xie Ke, a Chongqing native and designer who fell in love with the mountain city of Dali in Yunnan province more than 20 years ago. “It’s conventional wisdom to work hard when we’re young and enjoy the fruits of our labour when we’re old. Many Chinese, however, are starting to ask, ‘Why can’t I enjoy the present too?’”

Dali’s subtropical highland climate, nature and languid pace of life are some of the reasons why this city, flanked by the crystalline Erhai lake and lush Cangshan mountains, has long captivated Chinese city dwellers in search of an oasis. According to a recent report by the Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture People’s Government, the number of migrants from elsewhere in the country reached 407,000 in 2025, up by 49 per cent from the year before. Burnt out by the grind of the city, “996” culture (working from 9.00 to 21.00, six days a week) and high costs, many Chinese professionals are finding refuge in this ancient city 1,900 metres above sea level. An increasing number of young people – typically from middle-class families – are dropping out of the rat race, choosing instead to tang ping (“lie flat”) here.

Dali’s inclusivity and open-mindedness are a beacon for big-city escapees. Not only is it within the country’s most ethnically diverse province – home to 25 officially recognised minority groups – but it also offers a kind of urban life far removed from the established rules in places such as Shanghai or Beijing. As the old Chinese saying goes, “The mountains are high and the emperor is far away.” Dali’s remoteness has allowed an independent spirit to thrive. Its relaxed vibe and sun-soaked lifestyle have drawn comparisons to the Golden State and resulted in a slightly cringe-inducing portmanteau: Dalifornia.

The space to breathe that the city offers was why Xie moved here in 2004 after quitting his job as an interior designer. “When you’re not hemmed in by tall buildings and crowded streets, the environment can impact you in big ways,” he says. “In Chongqing, I was busy every day but didn’t know what I was busy with. I was just trying to survive and began to dislike that more and more.” Visits to Dali allowed him to pause and take stock. He would stay in small hostels and guesthouses that were founded and managed by owners who didn’t hesitate to get their hands dirty. “They were industrious and the care in everything that they did really inspired me,” he says. “This is real living, where you put your heart and soul into all that you do.”

In 2006, Xie returned to Chongqing with fresh vigour but Dali had left such a deep impression that he decided to build a second home in the city’s Shan Shui Jian neighbourhood. The entrance of his four-storey residence leads to a flight of steps to the basement – a small gesture that resonates with his design philosophy of slowing the tempo to allow people to appreciate often overlooked aspects of modern life. His home, inspired by Dali’s naturalistic setting and rural Chinese architecture, has set the tone for a growing number of hospitality projects, including Qing Shan 49, a seven-room retreat, and Qing Shan Hot Spring, a thermal hideaway in a historic courtyard.

Wealth-focused city life was what pushed chef Xu Kai to move to Dali and open his restaurant, Trout. After stints at Eleven Madison Park in New York and The French Laundry in California, he worked at a fine-dining restaurant in Shenzhen for a year before deciding to make a change. “There were few opportunities to be in nature and experience the local culture,” he says. “Plus, half of my salary would go to rent.”

He left his job in 2022 and went on a motorcycle road trip around China before hanging up his helmet in Dali. What attracted him was the variety of local produce – one of the reasons why a fresh cohort of chefs and café owners has set up shop here. “Yunnan has the best ingredients because of the seasonality, quality and diversity,” he says. In recent years, coffee grown in Pu’er, China’s tea capital, has also gained considerable international interest, as has fine Yunnan wine. The region’s multiculturalism – with culinary traditions coexisting side by side – means endless gastronomic discovery. At his restaurant, Trout, Xu partners with local farmers and producers to pick the best ingredients, from sour honey made in the province’s rainforests and foraged mushrooms to cured ham from Jianchuan county and catfish from the Mekong. “All of the ingredients, wine, furniture and crockery at Trout are from Yunnan,” he says of his hyper-local, eco-conscious approach that is quickly catching on across the city.

Furniture designer Shun Li Li (who goes by Dengzhou) turns leftover timber and scrap metal into sculptural pieces. She moved here from Wenshan in 2008 to attend university and never left. She tells Monocle that it’s the tight-knit creative community that has kept her rooted here. “We do many things as one, from crafting to cooking and hiking,” she says. This has resulted in a cross-pollination of ideas and inspired Shun’s foray into textile weaving. Now she is keen to give back to the community; she will soon open a homeware and lifestyle shop selling the works of other local artisans and designers.

Foreign investment and mass tourism are also driving change in the area. In nearby Xizhou, an ancient town known for its grand courtyards and bustling markets, popular chains such as bubble tea kiosk Heytea, coffee brand Luckin and ice-cream shop Mixue have established a presence in a small neighbourhood. Rents have unsurprisingly inched up, though prices are still nowhere near what you would pay in China’s biggest cities. The rent for a fully furnished three-bedroom apartment in Dali’s old town will set you back about CN¥5,000 (€644) a month, while central Shanghai apartments typically cost at least 40 per cent more.

Brian Linden, an American entrepreneur who has lived in Dali for more than two decades, is a little concerned about its popularity and the creep of gentrification. “I love China and appreciate the new energy of this new Dali but I also feel that existing social structures have been impacted,” he says. He is intimately familiar with Xizhou’s development: in 2008, he spent $1m (€880,000) to painstakingly preserve a traditional Bai courtyard gatehouse and transform it into the Linden Centre, a hotel with a focus on cross-cultural exchange. “Because new migrants, including people like my family, often come to Dali with more financial resources and different social traditions, we tend to pick and choose our lifestyles and neighbours rather than immerse ourselves in the local way of life,” he says.

But efforts are being made to help newcomers integrate into the fabric of Dali life. Wang Yiyang, the Dali-based founder of fashion label Zuczug, has partnered with the Linden Centre to bring his employees and designers on immersion trips, on which they explore collaboration opportunities with Yunnan’s rural craftspeople. Yujiang Mou, the centre’s CEO and a Dali native, lists the many positive things that have resulted from the recent changes that the city has undergone. “When foreigners come here, locals learn from them how to run better businesses,” he says. “This has given them fresh perspectives.”

The growth in population and visitor numbers also means that younger generations now have compelling reasons to remain in Dali and start their own ventures. Mou is especially excited about the city’s future. “I see many opportunities for young people here – for those who explore the world, equip themselves with the right skills and then return home to start their own practice or enterprise,” he says. “Dali’s independent spirit will only continue to grow.”

1.
Counter Editions

For its 25th anniversary, art-book publisher Counter Editions has released a monograph cataloguing its key works. The design – including a screen-printed cover – mirrors the imprint’s exacting approach to printmaking.

2.
A Room of One’s Own
Virginia Woolf

This centenary edition of Virginia Woolf’s classic essay harks back to the original Hogarth Editions. It’s rebound with the same woodcut prints that her sister designed some 100 years ago.

3.
Mother Mary Comes to Me
Arundhati Roy

In her first memoir, Indian novelist Arundhati Roy describes her formidable mother as “my shelter and my storm”. That complicated relationship forms a central part of the book, told with raw honesty in Roy’s inimitable prose style.

4.
Paul Thek and Peter Hujar: Stay Away from Nothing
Edited by Francis Schichtel

Photographer Peter Hujar and painter and sculptor Paul Thek shared an intimate relationship as friends and lovers. Through photos, postcards, letters and the occasional doodle, Stay Away from Nothing captures the complex and tender nature of their bond.

5.
Nova Scotia House
Charlie Porter

This debut novel from Charlie Porter, the prolific fashion journalist and author of What Artists Wear, is a thought-provoking, emotional work on love and pain during the AIDS crisis.

6.
Shosa: Meditations in Japanese Handwork
Ringo Gomez-Jorge

The Japanese concept of shosa can be summarised as a respectful attitude, a mindful way of moving or a repeated action. This calming book features interviews with craftspeople, teachers and even a high-ranking Zen monk who discuss why shosa is important to them.

7.
Cooking with Scorsese and Others
Hato Press

Cinemas might be more closely associated with mindless consumption of buckets of popcorn than fine dining but food and film have long enjoyed a nourishing relationship. This slim edition features photography that centres on food from films as varied as the Charlie Chaplin classic The Gold Rush and Hayao Miyazaki’s anime Ponyo.

8.
Remixed
Michel Gaubert

Sound designer Michel Gaubert has been responsible for some of the most memorable fashion-show soundtracks of the past 50 years. His new autobiography is for those who appreciate boundary-pushing fashion and music with a little French flair.

9.
How to End a Story: Collected Diaries
Helen Garner

Australian novelist Helen Garner’s diaries were collected into a single volume for the first time this year. Her exacting eye makes this record of the minutiae of her life – including the unravelling of her marriage – a propulsive, generous read.

10.
Squeeze Me: Lemon Recipes & Art
Ruthie Rogers & Ed Ruscha

This unusual cookbook focuses solely on dishes that incorporate the humble lemon. The recipes come from Ruthie Rogers’ London institution The River Café, while the art and design are handled by US artist Ed Ruscha.

11.
Perfection
Vincenzo Latronico

This timely, ennui-laden depiction of an expat couple in Berlin who are attempting to live a perfect life was a literary standout this summer, with its bold, blue Fitzcarraldo Editions cover seen poking out of tote bags on beaches across Europe.

12.
Killing Time
Alan Bennett

This special edition of a new novella from Alan Bennett is the ideal size to slip into a stocking. Though the story – set in a care home during the coronavirus pandemic – is far from cheerful, it’ll be a fine, darkly comic accompaniment for winter nights.

13.
Lessons for Young Artists
David Gentleman

For the creatives in your life, there are few better presents than the no-nonsense words of British artist David Gentleman. While there are no short cuts to success, the 95-year-old’s fatherly advice is sure to help put you on the right track.

14.
Spotlights
Habibi Funk

The musical catalogue of Berlin-based label Habibi Funk Records showcases the best sounds from the Arab world. This smart new publication from the Habibi team continues that mission and features interviews with Arab music legends, retro album designs and new studio photography.

15.
At Home in London
Ellis Woodman

Though London’s mews were built in the 18th and 19th centuries as stables and servants’ lodgings for smart houses, they have since become desirable as bijoux homes and artists’ studios. This book captures their many contemporary functions and varied designs.

Eleven years, 11 editions. It all started in 2015 in Lisbon, where we hosted our inaugural Quality of Life Conference. We envisioned the event as an occasion at which we could unpack on stage some of the key themes that run as red threads through Monocle’s pages. Coming off the back of our July/August issue’s Quality of Life Survey, which ranks the best cities to call home, we particularly wanted to hear from mayors, architects, designers and mobility players about how we can make our hometowns better for all. Most of the day was held at the Four Seasons Hotel Ritz, a modernist gem that added some swagger to the proceedings. As the day concluded, we knew that we had created something rather magical.

After editions everywhere from Athens to Barcelona, Munich to Paris, it felt perfect to be back in Lisbon for the latest instalment of the conference. Especially as birthdays are beginning to draw our focus at Monocle – we are just a few months away from the 20th anniversary of our launch.

Another modernist gem hosted us this year: the recently extended and upgraded (in a gentle way) Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation. However, for the simple joy of going back to our roots, our gala dinner on the final night was held at our old stamping ground, the Ritz. In addition to our speakers and delegates, we invited three photographers and tasked them with documenting the day, shooting what has become a highlight of the Monocle calendar. We wanted them to capture more than just the parties and panels. That was because, though this is still a conference, it has transformed into what one delegate described to me last year in Barcelona as an “urban retreat”, a chance to spend three days with interesting people who care, who want to do more for their neighbourhoods, businesses and friends. And who also want to talk to other ambitious, engaged people from across the globe as they seek out fresh inspiration.

It’s this desire to have a conversation that has given the Quality of Life Conference its sense of purpose. In a world where people see it as normal to shout over those who they disagree with, take offence at anyone whose views are not in sync with their own, Monocle’s modern retreat has developed into a moment in which people park their differences – and listen.

On the first night of these Monocle gatherings, we hold a reception to welcome guests. Every year we watch a stream of people arriving at the front desk who have travelled long distances, usually solo, to be part of Monocle for a few days, to talk to people who might just shift the dial on their careers or lives. It’s fascinating to then see the same people two days later at the final breakfast, surrounded by their new best friends. It’s extraordinary how many people end up going into business together or criss-crossing the planet to drop in on their new contacts.

So, while everything that takes place on stage is key to the conference’s success, much of the magic happens in the coffee breaks, over sunny lunches and on the edges of the dancefloor (we always make time for a bit of a dance-off). The Monocle Quality of Life Conference is for curious people who want to know more about the world that we live in. Perhaps we’ll see you in 2027?

The fashion industry is still on the road to recovery and looking for its next big opportunity in the luxury sector. The Chinese market, which fuelled much of the sector’s pre-pandemic growth, remains sluggish, while the Gulf region is still grappling with the effects of the war in Iran. All of which means that companies are searching for untapped markets and new demographics that will reassure shareholders and boost stock prices. Relying solely on the robust US market was never a sustainable, long-term option.
  
So far, industry chatter has mostly circled around India: an underpenetrated yet complex market that will require time and deep investments to yield returns. In the meantime, Turkey – which is better known for its hospitality, cosmetics industry and manufacturing (including making fake luxury goods) – has emerged as the most promising new frontier. The nation is now attracting high-end tourism, building a local base of high-end-fashion shoppers and, along the way, reshaping its image as a prominent shopping hub. Its luxury market, valued at $3.4bn (€3bn) last year, is estimated to reach $4.5bn (€3.9bn) by 2034. “In a globally subdued luxury environment, companies are keen to find growth frontiers. Turkey, which hasn’t been a priority in the past, is a large economy worth exploring,” says Luca Solca, the managing director and global head of luxury goods research at Bernstein.

Many factors are contributing to this shift, starting with current international geopolitical relations. Unlike its European neighbours, Turkey maintains direct flight connections to Russia and grants visa-free entry to Russian and Iranian visitors, attracting high-spending tourists who might have otherwise flocked to Western Europe or the UAE. “The country is now seen as a safe zone in a region of on-and-off turmoil, encouraging people to direct their spending here,” says Defne Kocabiyikoglu, who runs independent fashion label Nackiyé with her sister Basak. She also points to Turkey’s “high standards of service” and the new Istanbul airport, which overtook Heathrow this month as the best-connected airport in the world, with 337 destinations.

Florentia, a new retail outlet near the airport, is riding the wave. Once completed, it will offer more than 100,000 sq m of retail space, a luxury hotel, open-air entertainment and access to more than 200 international labels. Elsewhere, Turkish retailer Beymen has been raising the bar with new retail concepts, including a store in Tersane-i Âmire that was designed by OMA. “The scale of investment is perhaps the clearest indication of market growth,” says Demet Müftüoğlu Eşeli, curator and co-founder of editorial platform ’74Escape. “There are more international luxury names, larger flagships and increasingly ambitious department stores. We are moving beyond conventional retail and towards spaces that combine fashion with art, design, hospitality and culture.”

While tourist spending is one of the largest drivers of growth, residents have also demonstrated an increased appetite for luxury fashion. “Turkey has a large, highly connected consumer base,” says Müftüoğlu Eşeli. “Thanks to social media, global fashion brands have become part of the everyday cultural landscape. With that comes greater familiarity, aspiration and demand.”

European luxury houses will no doubt rush to meet this demand with more flagship openings and events. Last month, Cartier took a trip to Turkish island Büyükada, bringing together creatives from across the region to celebrate its new jewellery collections. The country also has the opportunity to elevate the “Made in Turkey” label, convince luxury groups to invest in its manufacturers and promote homegrown labels such as Nackiyé, which has already achieved global recognition and forged retail partnerships across Hong Kong, Japan and the US. The sector’s long-term vitality, however, will largely depend on continued political stability in a volatile region and whether the Turkish president, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, can resolve ongoing tensions with Israel and Greece.

Natalie Theodosi is Monocle’s fashion editor at large. For more opinion, analysis and insight subscribe to Monocle today.

The Strait of Hormuz crisis is prompting the UAE to reassess the partnerships on which its security and prosperity depend. Speaking to Monocle Radio at the Arab Media Summit in Dubai, Noura bint Mohammed Al Kaabi, the minister of state at the UAE’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, describes “a recalibration” that spans from Germany to the Pacific. As conflict continues across the region, she also leaves the door open to rebuilding trust with Iran, while insisting that the UAE will not forget what it has endured. 

Has the ongoing conflict with Iran prompted a reappraisal of your tactics?
The UAE’s foreign policy is always open to dialogue, discussion and calls for de-escalation. Yet there has been a recalibration of how we view our common strategic partnerships.

I arrived from Germany a few days ago, where the UAE’s president [Mohamed bin Zayed] had meetings with prominent CEOs and leaders. The UAE and Germany have a strategic relationship, with partnerships in defence, security, technology and business – and a commitment of more than €40bn.

This recalibration is a model that we’re working on. We’re looking at what we can do better in technology, education, sustainability and culture. Defence is key. The UAE is not just buying defence – it is also selling its defence. Edge Group (the UAE’s defence manufacturer) will have an office in France to sell UAE-made defence technology across Europe.

Do recent events raise questions about the US as a reliable partner?
The UAE is a partner with every nation that wants to build bridges. It’s a polarised world with many camps: a zero-sum game that we don’t want to be part of. We want to be part of a world that has partnerships and strategic alliances. 

The US has been and remains a very strategic ally and partner for the UAE in defence and security and, beyond that, in technology and investment.

I’ll focus on the formula. If the formula is prosperity – in projects, investment, technology, defence, culture or anything that will benefit the UAE through strengthening its partnerships – then that will be our priority.

You have also been visiting the Pacific islands. What takes UAE diplomacy so far from home?
We were in the region to attend the Pacific Forum in Palau. We went to Timor-Leste, Palau and then Fiji. I work with the Pacific islands portfolio. These islands are filled with dreams, ambitions and a sense of responsibility – [even if people often] see them as places to have a good time. It’s really important to look at the common values, initiatives and projects that our nations can work on together.

The Strait of Hormuz crisis and the recent attacks in the Middle East have not only affected us in the UAE but have also had an impact on the distant islands of the Pacific and the Caribbean, raising their prices. How can we work together on these issues?

Could Iran eventually become one of the UAE’s partners?
Iran is our neighbour. We have maintained trade relations and are home to a large community of Iranians. What happened is unfortunate and will require us to rebuild trust, which is not easy but it’s essential. You can’t just stop having dialogue with a country that’s less than 100km away. I believe that the leadership here is prioritising the long-term goal of a stable region.

We want to live in a world where there are no disputes, no militias right and left, no drones flying over your head. This country has been building its reputation and credibility for the past 50-plus years, not only for the Emiratis but also for the 200-plus nationalities found here.

How close are the UAE and Iran to rebuilding that trust?
The UAE is always open to de-escalation and partnership building. If we shut the door to dialogue with another nation, we would not be taking the steps in the right direction – especially when Iran is our neighbour.

But you can’t ignore what we went through. It’s something that we can never forget, that will be entrenched in the memory of all who lived in the UAE. The solidarity has been overwhelming – in a good way. We will continue to keep that window of dialogue open because if you want to build trust, you need to talk.

Will Gulf states have to get used to Iran controlling the Strait of Hormuz?
Any strait is international waters and we need to ensure that we solidify this point. It’s international law, maritime law and the order of the world. We will continue to discuss this because you don’t want to set a precedent in the Strait of Hormuz that others would follow.

It’s London Fashion Week again. After New York, it’s now the UK capital’s turn to host buyers and press, and to prove its creative mettle. It’s not easy being the warm-up act before the big-ticket shows in Milan and Paris but London’s charm lies in its scrappiness. This is where many creative directors at luxury houses – including Givenchy’s Sarah Burton, Dior’s Jonathan Anderson and Hermès’s head of menswear Grace Wales Bonner – spent their salad days, developing their viewpoints before going on to bigger gigs. To overlook London’s role as a cradle for emerging designers is to do the wider industry a disservice later down the line. “If Paris is luxury and Milan is heritage, then London is creativity and innovation,” the CEO of the British Fashion Council (BFC), Laura Weir, tells Monocle. “Rather than trying to be something that you’re not, I’m a firm believer in using your assets to the best of your ability.” 

Names to watch out for in the coming days include Johanna Parv, Pauline Dujancourt and EWUSIE: a trio of designers that draws on personal references ranging from cycling clothing to Ghanaian culture. For emerging designers, developing a direct-to-consumer niche might be the key to survival in an industry where wholesale and multi-brand retailers have declined over the past decade. “The shift in the wholesale landscape has had a cataclysmic effect on fashion brands’ opportunities to scale,” says Weir. “The cost of business rates and rent in London is an issue. It’s up to the BFC to come up with initiatives to support brands where we can. We’re mentoring designers to take different routes to market and launching Fashion House, our new initiative to create physical spaces for studios.”

This season, the BFC is also hoping to revitalise London’s status as a fashion capital by luring back Alexander McQueen from Paris, where the brand has been showing since 2000. The decision to return also makes sense for the luxury house, which has struggled to cut through the competitive noise of Paris in recent seasons. If the show on Sunday evening goes well, it will be interesting to see whether other British brands that have eschewed London for Milan or other cities decide to return home. 

Finally, Burberry will be closing the week on Monday night. The brand reported a return to profit in May, driven by sales in the US and China, after two years of struggling to position itself in a tighter luxury market. The success of the brand’s strategy – peddling a campy image of Britishness, complete with trench coats, Olivia Coleman and cups of tea – should offer hope to emerging and established UK-based designers.

Mid-September is a vernissage-packed time in the German capital, with almost every art gallery in the city opening its autumn show during the annual Berlin Art Week. And, thanks to Currents – a new festival that presented the work of local designers and manufacturers across more than 60 venues last weekend – another industry has crashed the party.

You might ask, “Who needs another design fair?” After all, even the finest pieces of furniture might find it hard to compete with Berlin’s high-calibre artists and museums. The showcase was also taking place around the same time as design weeks in London, Paris and Zürich. So it helped that Currents, founded by journalists Jasmin Jouhar and Laura Ewert, wasn’t jostling for the dollars of international collectors or a jet-set crowd but catering to everyday Berliners. Refreshingly, the furniture on show was almost all contemporary and fairly affordable.

As I wandered through various event venues, I found plenty of objects that I suddenly felt I needed in my life. Berlin-based studio Gonzalez Haase AAS and Munich’s Marbledworks presented small side tables assembled from coloured marble, which could be mixed and matched or stacked into a shelf – precious stone in a portable, unfussy form. Daftar made perforated steel versions of cake doilies, which they used to serve up tea and ice cream in a Kreuzberg carpet shop. Cutlery brand Mono launched an instant Berlin essential by Universität der Künste student Oskar Poetsch: a tool that serves as a French-fry fork, ice-cream spoon and bottle opener all in one, and can be attached to a keychain.

Part of the fun was exploring the venues themselves. All weekend, a motorcycle-themed bar operated within the Eternithaus in Hansaviertel. Fourteen designers had set up shop at Jalousiefabrik, an abandoned shutter factory in Kreuzberg that Berlin-based firm Bächlemeid and Taneli Mansikkamäki Architects will soon convert into apartments. Many vast, disused warehouses were filled with new design (if, admittedly, of uneven quality).

One of the highlights of Berlin Art Week was also architectural. Just for the weekend, the Neue Nationalgalerie arranged a public peek into the still-incomplete Museum des 20 Jahrhunderts next door. The huge construction site’s floor was the perfect setting for screenings of the work of artist Gordon Matta-Clark who, in the 1970s, filmed himself cutting a circle through an apartment building and slicing a suburban home in half.

It felt as though this curatorial stunt was for local residents rather than art-world sharks. People like to complain that Berlin has changed but the city still has plenty of disused and unfinished spaces, and smart people finding uses for them. Few places are better for people who create, make and build – and for those of us who just enjoy the results.

Stella Roos is Monocle’s design correspondent.