Monocle Weekend
Edition: Saturday

If proof were needed that there’s an art to wintering right, look no further than the avenues of New York, where women’s headwear is all the rage, and the narrow streets of Florence, where dapper men flock like peacocks for Pitti Immagine Uomo. Of course, January moves all the more swiftly with a healthy dose of sunshine. That’s why we’re off on an Athenian shopping spree to celebrate the publication of our latest title, Greece: The Monocle Handbook. Then: we sit down with Richard Koh for Singapore Art Week. Starting us on the right foot is our editor in chief, Andrew Tuck.

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There is a takeaway food shop near Midori House that, for several years, was a regular pit stop for me and my Monocle dining buddies. You would go in and chat to the jolly team as they concocted a tasty lunch box. One day, post-coronavirus, it all changed. Our favourite staff had gone and, in their places, had arrived a series of chiller units from which you could now retrieve your prepacked food before paying at the counter. How was this progress? I stopped going and so did my lunch team. But on Monday, when I finally returned to the office, I discovered that the boycott had been lifted by Sophie and Josh – they blamed Chris Lord, newly returned from Los Angeles. “It’s all changed again,” said Sophie. And so it has. The people at the checkout have now gone too. You take your food, tap your order on a touch-screen, pay and leave without ever meeting a staff member – unless, like me, you press the wrong button, overpay and have to negotiate a refund. It’s awful but in a city where lots of people don’t want service jobs, it makes life so much easier for managers if they just cut staff out of the equation (yet about 314,000 people are unemployed in London).

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On Linkedin, I was distracted by a post from a woman who had just had an uncomfortable recruiting experience. She was on a video call with a candidate; when she asked about the software that the company uses, the interviewee ended the conversation abruptly. Later she called the woman to make sure that she was OK. And she was – she just didn’t think that it was appropriate to be asked questions. That seemed like a red flag to me. But then I read the comments and many of the people jumping into the debate supported the call-dropper’s actions. “It’s all there on the CV – either you’re hiring or you are not,” was the tone.

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But a friend, who is going through the application process, told me about some of the hoops that he is being made to jump through by a big US company. In addition to creating a project proposal that took days of research, he has also had eight rounds of interviews. The most enervating aspect is the level of personal questioning that he has been exposed to, including being asked to talk about the worst thing that has happened in his personal life and how he survived it. I would have hung up on that call.

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Tim Duggan is someone who I met when he was a Sydney nightclub promoter and who went on to become a successful media-company co-owner (he has since sold the business). Our paths have crossed again in recent years because he now lives with his husband in Palma de Mallorca, so we get to hang out. He has also recently been on Monocle Radio’s The Entrepreneurs as he has taken to writing books. His newest one, Work Backwards, is about how and why we work, looking at the latest research on everything from flexible working to four-day weeks. (Duggan says that he manages to write books, give workshops and help companies experiment with how they operate in just three days a week. I know, it’s annoying.)

On Wednesday I went to hear him talk about his theory – essentially, you start by thinking about the life you want to lead. He’s a sunny Aussie who speaks from the heart and the audience also had good perspectives to offer. One woman talked about taking time out of work to have a baby and how this version of flexible working had set her career back, while another talked about how being brave and quitting her job to travel had led to a better work pattern. There were so many ideas at play about how the world of work works.

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It has also been a week in which I have seen again and again how, in the right place, surrounded by great people, work can be rich in meaning. Lunch with architects Fergus Feilden and Edmund Fowles at their studio – busy, alive, full of ideas – and talking to the new creative director at Georg Jensen, Paula Gerbase, about how she works with her team (including the company’s cool archivist) were inspiring. And then, of course, there’s Monocle.

There is no single model of working that fits every business but some of the stances taken by both staff and employers leave little hope of ever creating workspaces where any collaboration or meaning can be found. I work in an industry where, thankfully, people need to come together (and where we do ask potential employees what they think). I don’t believe in a world stripped of human interaction. Experiment as much as you like but make space for people to flourish – even in a bar or takeaway food shop.

An Arctic wind has been slicing through the streets of New York this January and the city’s denizens are donning their winter headwear accordingly (writes Naomi Xu Elegant). But on my bundled-up walks to the subway or café, I’ve noticed a conspicuous lack of beanies and hoods atop women’s heads and a preponderance of headscarves instead. The most popular kinds are made from bright red or demurely neutral cashmere, secured with an under-the-chin knot. I have also observed Amish-style bonnets and even a variety of woolly bascinet that Joan of Arc might have jumped at on a frosty morning. In short, there’s a swing to rustic chic among the wintering ladies of Brooklyn and Manhattan.

US brands are offering retro headwear aplenty, from Free People’s knitted bonnet with extra-long ends (which you can tie into a little bow) and Reformation’s countrified cotton headscarf to New York-based label Sandy Liang’s decidedly Dutch Golden Age headdresses. Even French luxury house Celine is putting out a crochet-cotton bandana.

Why the shift towards these romantically rural looks? Is it down to cold-weather induced atavism, an end to headwear’s historical hibernation? Perhaps it’s aesthetic evidence of the “trad-wife” trend? Or a sartorial companion to recently popular homely hobbies such as foraging, bread-making and pickling? Whatever the answer, it looks much more graceful – especially paired with a warm woollen coat – than the stodgy beanie-and-puffer-jacket alternative. If, like me, you prefer to leave the pickling to the professionals but still long for quainter times, consider ditching the passé hat and slipping on a headscarf.

For Greece: The Monocle Handbook, on sale now, we went in search of the country’s best places to shop. From concept stores and ceramic studios to jewellers and record shops, we scoured shelves high and low for Grecian gems. Here’s one spot in Athens that you shouldn’t miss.

When Andreas Kokkino and Stathis Mitropoulos (pictured) opened Hyper Hypo in Athens’ Monastiraki neighbourhood in 2021, they were trying to create the kind of space that they wanted to see in the area. “Somebody had to do it,” says Kokkino. Since then, the art and design bookshop has been a hit with residents and tourists alike. From the latest graphic novels and cutting-edge photography titles, to classic and contemporary theoretical texts and art tomes, the razor-sharp selection strikes a balance between playful and profound. On the shelves you’ll also find popular publications about the country. “If the word ‘Greece’ is in the title, it will sell,” adds Kokkino.

Among the most eagerly sought-after books are the pocket-sized editions by small imprint Kyklàda. Each explores a different subject ranging from the aesthetics of Greek sculpture to the architecture of Cycladic holiday homes. Hyper Hypo is a space that has all the cosiness of your favourite bookshop while also doubling as a salon for the city’s flourishing art and design scene.
hyperhypo.gr

For more helpful Hellenic tips and hotspots, pick up a copy of‘Greece: The Monocle Handbook’, on sale now.

It wasn’t even no-more-cappuccino hour in Florence when I saw a man wearing an oversized, graffiti-covered white fur coat, paired with matching Crocs (writes Teo van den Broeke). Then there were the twins in fur-trimmed tweed overcoats, with natty little moustaches and ludicrously capacious cowhide totes, and a chap rocking a roomy red cape, a black silk top hat and a pair of white horn-rimmed spectacles.

Yes, Pitti Immagine Uomo, the Florentine menswear fair, was in full swing. With it came the parade of peacocks – those flamboyant style obsessives who descend every January and June upon the city’s imposing Fortezza da Basso to revel in the new season’s menswear offerings and, more importantly, to flaunt their own. In years gone by, I would have found the peacocks amusing for about an hour before they began to grate. The endless posturing and posing, not only at the fair but throughout the city, would inevitably have come to feel more tiresome than charming. But this season, for the first time in a long while, I found myself captivated.

I didn’t even flinch when I stumbled upon a rather large man snapping selfies outside my hotel (the excellent, design-led Casa G Firenze, which I recommend), dressed in a blindingly bright orange puffer jacket and tweed plus-fours. Instead, I smiled indulgently, wished him a hearty buongiorno and continued on my way in search of cappuccino (pre-11.00, certo). Perhaps my new-found affection for the peacocks stems from the fact that, of late, we’ve had to endure the tyranny of “quiet luxury” – the dreary reign of beige double-faced cashmere and muted, joyless minimalism. The exuberance, playfulness and experimentation embodied by these dazzlingly dressed men felt not only refreshing but somehow entirely necessary.

Singapore-based gallerist and collector Richard Koh has collaborated with The Private Museum to mount a unique exhibition from his personal art collection as part of Singapore Art Week. The show, Of Dreams and Contemplation: I’m All but a Story – Selections from the Collection of Richard Koh, runs until 9 March.

You have been part of Singapore’s art scene for a long time. What are the biggest changes that you have seen?
The community has become more tight-knit, among both collectors and gallerists. Previously, people preferred to keep to themselves. Now we are much more open in terms of sharing ideas and resources. There’s also greater engagement from the younger generation. This shift is a positive sign that more Singaporeans are becoming aware of the role of art in their lives.

What do you hope that audiences will take away from your exhibition?
You don’t need external validation to do what you want and like. Art collecting is often associated with certain stereotypes, such as focusing only on famous names. But I want to show that it can be personal, allowing us to be the authors of our own story.

In recent years once-reclusive art collectors have begun to step into the limelight. Why?
As more people appreciate art, collectors feel empowered to share their collection or step forward as a supporting voice. Unless a piece is loaned to an institution, it will never be seen by the public beyond that brief moment in the gallery. In a showcase of a private collection, artists, in particular, can more readily share their work with others.

What should we check out during Singapore Art Week?
Teo Eng Seng: We’re Happy. Are You Happy? at the National Gallery Singapore. Seng’s practice is driven by creative spontaneity, which was unusual when he started out. The works have a delightful craziness, using humour and kitsch to reflect everyday complexities.

For more insights and analysis from the world of art, subscribe to Monocle so that you never miss an issue. Have a super Saturday.