Issues

Richard Mille’s next move: Amanda Mille on storytelling, technical ambition and serving women seriously

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay on the scent of fresh opportunities in the fragrance sector – from key industry players to a breakdown of regional markets

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

Follow the science: The four fragrance manufacturers to know

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

1.
DSM-Firmenich
Switzerland/Netherlands

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

2.
International Flavors & Fragrances (IFF)
USA

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

3.
Symrise
Germany

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

4.
Givaudan
Switzerland

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

Master mixologists: The perfumers

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

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

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

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

Hit the big time: The conglomerates

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

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

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

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

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

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

Play to the crowd: Market analysis

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

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

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

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

Close the sale: The independent shops

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

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

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

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

Perfumes timeline

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

The 1920s: Chanel No 5
Launched over a century ago, Chanel No 5 still sells about 10 million bottles a year. Conceived as a “women’s perfume which smells like a woman”, it has top notes of citrus and a vanilla base.
chanel.com

The 1940s: Miss Dior
In 1947, Christian Dior called time on wartime austerity with his fresh, optimistic New Look collection. To complete the look, the couturier launched this floral fragrance, Miss Dior.
dior.com

The 1950s: L’Interdit by Givenchy
Created for Audrey Hepburn, L’Interdit is an early example of using a film star in fragrance advertising. With its vetiver and patchouli base notes and orange-blossom top notes, it was one of the era’s most iconic perfumes.
givenchybeauty.com

The 1970s/1980s: Opium by YSL
Released in 1977, YSL Opium was initially criticised for its name, which was accused of glamorising drug use. But it proved a global hit, with its seductive amber notes chiming perfectly with an era of excess.
yslbeauty.com

The 1990s: CK One by Calvin Klein
Instead of targeting an affluent clientele, this citrussy 1994 fragrance was made for the overlooked teenage demographic – becoming one of the first unisex perfumes to become a top seller.
calvinklein.com

The 2010s: Santal 33 by Le Labo
It’s said that US fragrance house Le Labo made 400 prototypes of Santal 33 before its launch in 2011. The result is a smoky scent with dominant notes of Australian sandalwood and cedar.
lelabofragrances.com

Home brew

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

When the saints go marching in: Inside Lisbon’s night of sardines and spectacle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Our main goal is to bring people out on the water.’ A bright new chapter for the iconic Danieli hotel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amsterdam’s old brown bars are pouring themselves a second life

It’s early on a Thursday afternoon and an elderly man ambles into a pub in Amsterdam neighbourhood Jordaan looking for Café de Zon. He’s in the right place but the wrong year – that was previously the name of this spot on the corner of Lindengracht for almost 40 years. Once run by a football fanatic who plastered it floor to ceiling with players’ shirts, it was shuttered during the coronavirus pandemic. Another tenant stuttered on for 18 months until Olivier Brackel and Matt Hargreaves, who were both in their twenties and working in the wine industry, stepped in and opened Café de Linden here in November 2024. “The previous owners weren’t around much,” says Brackel. “So the place lacked energy.”

These traditional Dutch pubs, known as bruine kroeg or “brown bars” because of tobacco and candle smoke that darkened their walls, have fallen out of favour. In the past 30 years, half of Amsterdam’s living rooms – as they’re also affectionately known – have been mercilessly converted into minimalist matcha spots or restaurant chains. But a handful have been taken over by a new generation intent on returning these old haunts to their former glories.

The duo behind Café de Linden’s revamp did most of the renovation themselves, revealing a 19th-century mosaic-tiled floor that had been partly concealed by the bar. A photo of the building in 1954, which was found in the city’s archives, hangs by the bar. It was the reference for replacing plastic windows with stained glass akin to the originals. The menu remains simple. “The more complex that you make something, the more expensive it gets,” says Brackel, placing menus on the outside tables. That philosophy helps keep prices reasonable, without compromising on the produce’s quality or the open-to-all ethos of classic brown bars. A glass of house wine costs €5.50; a cheese toastie is €8. The same mindset shapes working hours. The duo are striving for Café de Linden to be like “cafés on Italian piazzas: always open and for everyone”, says Brackel. It’s open seven days a week from 08.00 until 00.00. The crowd is eclectic: the Monday morning flea market brings in older residents while Friday afternoons belong to the orange-wine-sipping crowd.

A few streets away it’s a similar story at Kamer bar (formerly Café de Parel). An elderly couple sit next to a group of creatives who are trying natural wine for the first time. “Open-minded” is how Russo-Irish chef Ciaran Patrick characterises his clientele. He took over the brown bar in late 2025, together with business partner Justin Grooten. To respect the neighbourhood, a Dutch name was non-negotiable. Kamer derives from huiskamer (living room), a nod to the homely setup, with a kitchen in the corner. Housed in an 18th-century building, the space has original details including a stained-glass window bearing Amsterdam’s coat of arms.

In Amsterdam’s Oud-West, Anne, a resident of Ten Katestraat for two decades, is glad to see a dormant watering hole once known as Topido, now Bar Kaat, on her corner lively again. The pub was untouched for almost 50 years until 12 school friends took it over this summer. “People say don’t mix business with friendship but we know each other’s strengths,” says Pim Muns. The dozen kept their day jobs – in Muns’s case, as a Heineken account manager. The idea to take over came after the previous owner, his client, grew tired of running the bar and asked if he knew a buyer. The new custodians handled the bar’s makeover themselves. A steady stream of customers has kept the place busy since a local TV station from their native province, Limburg, in the south of the Netherlands, broadcast a segment about them. Drinks arrive with Dutch deep-fried bar snack bitterballen, served the Limburg way, with pulled beef rather than diced. For pudding, there’s vlaai (a fruit tart). “Eating vlaai at your own bar, that’s when you know that you have made it,” says co-founder Jérôme Spronken, with a grin.

Be careful who you hire to dress your military. The wrong choice could cost the country’s security (and soft-power influence)

It would be unwise to vault too confidently aboard a high horse about the propriety of buying clothing manufactured in China – after all, most of us own at least a few garments made there. But it’s still prudent to be a bit picky where one specific branch of public-sector employees is concerned. The UK’s Ministry of Defence has recently been considering bids to furnish new uniforms for the British Armed Forces – a process that has served as a reminder that previous winners of such tenders often subcontracted the work to Chinese manufacturers.

You don’t need to be overly paranoid to perceive the potential problem here. Several countries’ militaries – those of the US and Germany, for example – have experimented with embedding tracking devices into some of their own soldiers’ uniforms. It’s not at all hard to imagine a rival power doing something similar to the uniforms of its adversaries. Indeed, it’s quite difficult to imagine them not doing it. In 2024 the British Army delayed the introduction of Chinese-made cap badges over fears that they might have been rigged in exactly this manner.

Some cholerically conservative UK newspapers have been predictably delighted by all of this. The Telegraph solicited a quote from Iain Duncan Smith, a former leader of the Conservative Party, who thundered that it was “astonishingly stupid” and “tantamount to having our uniforms made by Nazi Germany in the 1930s”.

A bit of a reach – but there is a point here. A uniform is about as fundamental as military kit gets. It therefore seems unwise to allow its supply to be even slightly dependent on a country that yours could conceivably end up fighting.

It’s not as though the UK is incapable of making this stuff. AW Hainsworth of West Yorkshire has been outfitting British soldiers since before the Charge of the Light Brigade (and has done similar for the Danish, Swedish and Australian militaries). Firmin & Sons of Birmingham has been at it even longer: founded in 1655 and now part of Firmin House, it’s one of the 10 oldest continuously extant British companies of any kind and currently supplies ceremonial uniforms and battlefield kit to 34 other countries. A UK government that’s serious about encouraging homegrown manufacturing – as the administration of the current prime minister, Andy Burnham, claims to be – would be backing a win-win proposition by directing this business towards such suppliers.

Some of the UK’s Nato allies have set an example. France’s uniforms are made by French manufacturer Paul Boyé, which in 2024 supplanted the also French Marck & Balsan. The Bundeswehr is substantially dressed by German company Hexonia. Canada bet big on local produce in 2022, awarding a 20-year contract for combat clothes, kit and footwear to Logistik Unicorp of Quebec – a CA$3.7bn (€2.3bn) investment that created jobs as well as bolstering homeland security.

But there are (or so we might hope) concerns beyond the strategic and commercial. Conditions in Chinese clothing factories are rarely praised as examples of enlightened labour standards; countries engaged in defending Western values should not be subsidising those who undercut them. And though the people who wear military uniform are the personification of hard power, when we buy those garments from elsewhere, an important soft-power opportunity is squandered. A soldier, especially when serving overseas, is also an ambassador. In every respect, their country should do its utmost to make them look good.

Andrew Mueller hosts Monocle Radio’s ‘The Monocle Daily’ and ‘The Foreign Desk’.

Burgundy uncorked: The hotels, restaurants and coffee shops proving there’s more to the region than wine

It was the slow pace of life among the vineyards that kept drawing Norway-born Trond Fredheim back to Burgundy. Today the former airline professional co-owns an inn there called Maison Le Chevreuil. “Some friends and I had a tradition of meeting here for Saturday lunch,” he tells Monocle as we sit on the sweeping back terrace that he brought back into use. Other Burgundians have memories of first communions and weddings toasted here. So, when the building came up for sale in 2022, Fredheim and his three partners – two Danes and a German – bought it to give this local institution a new lease of life.

They commissioned Beaune-based architects Aubin Prost and Johanna Leserre, giving them a simple brief: everything from the materials to the craftspeople had to be from Burgundy. The 10-key space “celebrates the local surroundings”, says Leserre. “We didn’t really choose a colour palette. It chose us.” She rests against a smoked-oak cupboard door, its shape a reference to the region’s vine stock. Elsewhere, there are exposed limestone walls, clay-plastered ceilings and, in the bathrooms, burgundy-hued rounded shower cabins. Across Burgundy, there’s plenty of impetus to free it from its stuck-in-the-past image – that of heavy-curtained suites and fusty restaurants, set deep in ancient caves à vins. Those were precisely what Alice and Jérôme Tourbier found when they bought Château de Gilly in 2022, after searching for the right location for more than 20 years. It’s the third outpost of Les Sources, the hospitality arm of the family’s Caudalie cosmetics business, which uses ingredients from the winemaking process.

The centrepiece of what is now known as Les Sources de Vougeot – a nod to the nearby Clos de Vougeot – is the indoor pool that the Tourbiers moved to a vaulted cellar where Cistercian monks once kept their wines cool. Those familiar with Nice’s Hôtel du Couvent might recognise the imprint of in-demand Parisian design firm Atelier Saint-Lazare. Throughout the property, you’ll find stone fireplaces and original hand-painted beams, as well as wine books and vintage posters for local viticultural festivals.

Part of this region’s appeal lies in its abundance of old châteaux. What it lacks in coolness, it has always had in a sense of place. “Few areas bring together an exceptional architectural heritage, landscapes, gastronomy and fine wines like Burgundy,” says Frédéric Biousse, co-founder of Fontenille Collection, a hotel group that opened its 13th maison this summer with the Meursault-based Château de Cîteaux. “We wanted a presence here.” The same goes for Singapore’s COMO Group, Château la Commaraine and Bellevigne, which all recently joined the lively hotel scene here.

It’s not just accommodation that’s changing – there’s also an appetite for new dining options. Formerly Paris-based chef and sommelier couple Romain Tischenko and Ioulia Gourieva set up a pop-up restaurant, as an extension of their catering business, in Savigny-lès-Beaune after falling for the region while helping a winemaker friend with a harvest. Monocle buys a sourdough loaf at boulangerie Chez Charles on Gilly-lès-Cîteaux’s square, which has been revived by three entrepreneurs – a baker, a café owner and a wine merchant. Then we’re off for an allongé at micro-roastery Saint Romain Coffee, where US-born Matt McClune tells us that the region’s love of wine lends itself to an appreciation of his light-roasted Ethiopian beans.

That appreciation from locals is only part of the story. Everyone we meet says that Burgundy’s success has been helped by a boom in international visitors, as well as French holidaymakers. Many new businesses are paying their respects to the region’s past but those such as Maison Le Chevreuil’s Fredheim and the team behind Australian-French winery Domaine Dandelion are bringing fresh ideas from elsewhere too. McClune sums it up as we finish our coffee. “Kids from abroad see Burgundy’s current energy and want to stay,” he says.

Where to stay and eat in Burgundy: the best hotels and restaurants

Maison Le Chevreuil
Meursault
After several years of careful, painstaking and artisan-led renovation, the inn opened again in September 2026.
lechevreuil.com

Les Sources de Vougeot
Gilly-lès-Cîteaux
Les Sources already has hotels in Bordeaux and the Loire Valley. So another wine region felt like a fitting choice for the brand’s third hotel (a fourth is planned for Alsace in 2027).
sources-hotels.com

Château de Cîteaux
Meursault
Many hotels in the region are housed in châteaux but this blue-shuttered example is set apart by its grand Napoleon III-style interiors. The bookshelves along the wooden staircase include about 5,000 volumes from publishing house Gallimard.
chateaudeciteaux.fontenille-collection.com

Ràde
Savigny-les-Beaune
Romain Tischenko made a name for himself with Paris bistro Le Galopin. After moving to Beaune with his sommelier partner in 2021, he launched Ràde La Terrasse, a summer restaurant in the gardens of Domaine de Chandon de Briailles estate.
restaurantademeure.com

Saint Romain Coffee
Saint-Romain
Matt McClune’s pint-sized roastery is open to guests on Mondays and Tuesdays only. Take a seat at the sole table and watch McClune roasting beans from the Ethiopian highlands.
saintromaincoffee.com

Domaine Dandelion
Mavilly-Mandelot
Grape surpluses aren’t an issue in Burgundy and it’s as much home to Old-World domaines as it is to a new generation of natural winemakers, such as Domaine Dandelion.
5 Place de l’Église, 21190 Mavilly-Mandelot

As the country rethinks its defence strategy, the Swedish Army Band marches to a new tune

Most people recognise that pregnant pause as an orchestra readies itself to begin playing. But how many have then heard a 22-piece brass section toot out the opening notes of “Dancing Queen”? Monocle is on an industrial estate on the outskirts of Stockholm, watching the Swedish Army Band (SAB) conduct its final rehearsal before the next day’s Guldbröllop celebrations to mark the 50th wedding anniversary of King Carl XVI Gustaf and Queen Silvia.

The festivities, which are the largest of three events to mark this jubilee year, will include a flotilla around Stockholm Harbour, followed by a procession through the capital’s streets, for which the SAB will provide the main soundtrack. Abba’s 1976 mega-hit is on the setlist for good reason: aside from the fact that it’s the most famous song by Sweden’s biggest band, it was played live to the royal couple on the eve of their wedding. Symbolism matters, especially on days like tomorrow, and Abba encapsulates an image of modern Sweden as joyous, multilingual and ahead of the times. Though these characteristics still largely apply, the past few years have transformed this country, its monarchy and its armed forces – as well as their marching band.

In 2024, more than 200 years since its last major war, Sweden joined Nato, ending a policy of official neutrality and committing itself to the defence of 31 other countries. As well as gaining membership of the world’s largest military alliance, the country has embarked on a huge rearmament programme in a rush to reverse decades of budget cuts and attract a new generation to its ranks. Lieutenant Erik Widegren, the SAB’s 39-year-old commander, is emblematic of this push. We meet Widegren in his office after rehearsals. Now the youngest commander in the band’s history, Widegren first became aware of the SAB at the age of 14, when it played at a fair in his hometown in southern Sweden. “I was drawn to the structure, the order, the level of commitment and the precision in everything that it did,” he says.

After finishing secondary school in 2006, he couldn’t decide whether to enlist or go to university. It was an inopportune time for a young Swede to be considering the former. “I talked to the army recruiters and they said, ‘You could have a good career with us but, at the moment, it looks like we might not have a job for you when you’re done studying,’” he says. Sweden’s 2004 Defence Act had codified a pivot away from territorial defence towards a military doctrine focused on peacekeeping and international crisis management. During the next decade or so, the country reduced its armed forces’ headcount by about 50 per cent, sold off barracks, bases and materiel, and abolished national service. So, Widegren accepted the offer of a place at the Stockholm School of Economics. After three years studying for a bachelor’s degree in retail management, he took up a position at US food giant Mondelez. Several promotions followed and, after a two-year stint in London, he found himself back in Stockholm contemplating his future. “I was talking to my wife and she asked me, ‘Didn’t you say that you wanted to be a military officer? What happened to that?’” he says. This was in 2019, when Sweden was beginning to reverse its military cutbacks, in part due to the increasing threat from Russia, which in 2014 had occupied Crimea. “A friend told me that you could become an army officer in just one year if you had a degree, because they were expanding so rapidly,” says Widegren. Most Swedish employers allow staff to take a year off to study, so he underwent officer training almost 20 years after he had first considered it.

It was a tough year but, at the end of it, Widegren decided to commit to the army, taking up a commission as a cadet in the Swedish Air Force’s Helicopter Wing. “I was 35 and had just taken a 70 per cent salary cut,” he says. A few months later, the command of the SAB – the unit that had so moved him as a 14-year-old – became vacant. “I wasn’t going to apply,” he says. “I had no command experience and my prospects didn’t look great.” The band’s commander usually has the rank of major, which typically requires a minimum of 10 years in the army. “But it was made clear to me that they would consider me for the role,” says Widegren. “They wanted leadership and people with outside experience who could change the culture.” He assumed command in January 2025.

The SAB traces its modern history back to 1982, when it was instituted as a conscript band, mostly for Swedes undertaking national service. It was professionalised in 2012, when the country abolished conscription. Today there are three professional bands in the Swedish Armed Forces (one for each branch) and 25 Home Guard volunteer outfits. The SAB employs 61 full-time musicians who, combined, play about 300 concerts a year. Recruitment is competitive. “We had an opening for a percussionist and about 26 people auditioned over two days,” says Widegren. “We chose one.” Tomas Lindberg is a 47-year-old percussionist who joined in 2011. “The biggest challenge for me was to change my grip on the snare,” says the drummer over lunch in the canteen. “You’re standing and moving, so it’s not straight – it’s at an angle.” Like many of his colleagues, Lindberg was a jobbing musician on the Stockholm orchestra scene before deciding to march to a more regular beat. “This is probably the most dependable job that you can have in orchestral music,” says the band’s 37-year-old musical director, Major Emil Eliasson.

The move to a fully professionalised troupe mirrored a shift in the band’s role. Before 2012, members would provide back-up combat support or medical assistance if required. Now they’re fully focused on performing. Flautist Caroline Walldén was sent to Afghanistan in 2013 to entertain the Swedish garrison in Mazar-e-Sharif. “We played typical Swedish music, which actually made the soldiers feel a bit homesick,” she says. The Ukraine war has affected not only Europe’s battlefield tactics but also its military bands. “After the full-scale invasion, the Ukrainians went from five professional bands to almost 60, just to be able to cover all of the ceremonies and funerals, and to boost morale,” says Widegren.

Between 2017 and 2018, Swedish defence spending fell to 1 per cent of GDP, its lowest since the Cold War. This year, it’s budgeted at about 2.8 per cent, a figure that the government has promised will rise to 3.5 per cent by 2030 to meet Nato commitments. More recruits are also being sought. A recent advert aimed at young women – the first for the Swedish army without soldiers, weapons or battlefields – shows one friend giving another a piggyback across a city bridge. “Marching with a heavy bag…” flashes an on-screen message. “You have what it takes.” Many of the troops lining up in the courtyard of the National Army Museum in Stockholm are conscripts. National service was reinstated in 2017 and Sweden’s Ministry of Defence is now targeting annual enlistment of about 10,000 conscripts by 2030, which would almost double the current intake. Nearby, patrons of the museum’s café are enjoying brunch in the sun. The contrast between the prosperous-looking, relaxed diners and the soldiers standing stiffly in gunmetal-grey dress uniforms is stark – but it also feels natural.

Because of its tradition of conscription, Sweden has always had a proportionately large army and the gap between it and civil society is not as great as it is in, for example, the UK, which has a centuries-old professional force. What has changed is an increased awareness of what Swedes are defending, at a time when the country has been engaged in some soul-searching. Since the late 2010s, Sweden has seen a surge in violent crime, mostly in poorer, immigrant communities. It peaked in 2022 with 391 shootings and 62 gun-related deaths – 2.5 times the EU average. A country that had for many years served as a role model for Europe and the world, particularly with its liberal stance on immigration, suddenly seemed like a basket case – a perception that was compounded by the electoral success of the far-right Sweden Democrats.

In some respects, Russia’s external threat has tempered national disquiet. “The army is marketing itself as defending freedom,” says Widegren. “That’s why we exist and they’re communicating that – you will see it on billboards all over town.” The defenders of that freedom have received a popularity boost too. In 2023 the Swedish Armed Forces were the top-ranked public agency in the country’s annual Confidence Barometer, with trust at an all-time high. The SOM Institute, a research organisation based at the University of Gothenburg, has found that 65 per cent of Swedes want to keep the monarchy, versus 11 per cent who favour an elected president. This might surprise those who see the country as inherently left-wing but the king and queen also seem to have benefited from geopolitical instability and political polarisation. “The king and the royal family are getting cool again,” says Widegren. “We’re so liberal in one way but we’re kind of coming back to those traditions and it’s unifying.” Like many of his European counterparts, King Carl XVI Gustaf has endured moments of scandal – indeed, the media, including Monocle, have had invitations to the post-parade palace party retracted thanks to the upcoming release of TV4’s Monarki, Sweden’s answer to The Crown, which dramatises several of the king’s alleged affairs. Yet his approval ratings are at a record high, while his heir, Crown Princess Victoria, was the most popular public figure in the SOM Institute’s 2023 poll.

June’s ceremony is typically Swedish – orderly and low-key enough to avoid accusations of jingoism. After marching through central Stockholm, the SAB positions itself at a corner of Kungsträdgården. Here, it begins a 13-song set of traditional and modern Swedish tunes. As the king and queen’s carriage comes into view, the band launches into “Dancing Queen”. The gilded duo glide past with a white-gloved wave before disappearing towards the harbour. After the crowd’s whooping dies down, the band disperses for the beginning of its summer break. When it returns to full-time work in August, it will find itself once again beating the drums of war.

Small business, big impact: Ten standout companies helping to drive Poland’s economic growth

Poland’s economic ascent hasn’t made many headlines but what slow-growing Western nation wouldn’t envy the country’s progress over 28 consecutive years? Perhaps it’s time for the world to look closer at what’s powering the Polish boom. First, the nation has maintained low costs despite its increasingly highly skilled and educated workforce. And it has kept alive manufacturing and a sense of entrepreneurialism, even as larger neighbours’ economies stumbled. But the story of Poland’s success can’t be captured by a line on a balance sheet – it also encompasses smaller, lesser-known brands that are making everything from drones and fire engines to bikes and clothing. Here is our pick of some of the best.

1.
Solaris
Urban transport

Solaris rises to the challenge of sharing a name with a novel by Poland’s best-known sci-fi writer, Stanislaw Lem. Launched in a small town near Poznan, the firm currently controls 11 per cent of the European electric-bus market. Its sturdy, in-demand hydrogen-powered vehicles and trolleybuses make it a one-stop shop for everything urban, public and green in transportation. Lem, a prophet of clean technologies, might scarcely have believed the tale.
solarisbus.com

2.
Kaisai
Air conditioning

Despite the deceptively Japanese-sounding name, Kaisai is a Polish brand addressing a global problem: heatwaves. Poland might not be known for its volatile weather but even its temperate climate hasn’t escaped the consequences of global warming. Kaisai is here to help, providing high-quality air conditioning and ventilation. A little over 20 per cent of Polish households have any air-con, so demand for Kaisai’s products is set to grow. It already provides much needed relief in more than 30 countries across Europe.
kaisai.com

3.
Wiss
Emergency vehicles

Growing up next to a big brand can bring benefits. One example is Wiss, an acronym of Wawrzaszek Inzynieria Samochodow Specjalnych. Founded by Piotr Wawrzaszek in Bielsko-Biala in 1988, it emerged as part of the automotive ecosystem in a city that was home to Poland’s largest Fiat factory at the time. Today, Wiss specialises in emergency vehicles, fire engines and special-purpose automotive projects. Though Fiat is no longer in Bielsko-Biala, Wiss is thriving – it exports its products to more than 50 countries in Europe, Asia and Central America.
wiss.com.pl

4.
The Lines
Clothing

The Lines’ Polish-designed activewear collection provides a fit and functionality that could conceivably be worn beyond the gym. Many brands claim to have dual use for sport and less informal activities – The Lines gets closer than most with its elegant designs and modest covered-up tops. Founded in 2024, it’s a new addition to the Polish retail scene but it’s a brand that seems set to flourish as Warsaw’s yoga and Pilates studios continue to grow in popularity.
thelines.pl

5.
Your Kaya, Hagi & Mokosh
Cosmetics

For years, shoppers in Poland’s beauty shops had limited choice, mostly of imported brands. Today, the scene is overflowing with new ideas, many of which are of Polish provenance. Your Kaya expanded from eco-friendly hygiene products into a full-grown cosmetics empire. Hagi, in turn, found its calling with a range of more than 150 skincare products – especially for children – and soy candles. And Mokosh, a fresh face on the market, is already competing with major brands.
yourkaya.pl; hagi.com.pl; mokosh.pl

6.
WB Group
Defence

As the largest nation on Nato’s eastern flank, Poland remains in Russia’s crosshairs and is wary of sabotage and hybrid threats. To strengthen its deterrence, it has received a total of €44bn in low-interest loans from the European Union’s Security Action for Europe programme. Of this, €2.75bn found its way to WB Group. Poland’s leading defence firm employs more than 2,500 people, half of whom are engineers working in R&D. The firm’s FlyEye reconnaissance drones and its Topaz integrated combat management system are world-class. In 2024, WB’s revenue grew more than 100 per cent year-on-year.
wbgroup.pl

7.
366 Concept
Furniture design

The years spent under the communist boot were rather bleak and grey but Polish furniture design went through something of a golden age during that time. A prime example of the era’s output is the 366 Armchair, designed in 1962 by Jozef Chierowski. It was simple by necessity – easy to assemble and cheap to produce due to the kinks of the communist system that had to be worked around. Design brand 366 Concept is now bringing it back to life, together with other adventurous pieces from this period. And with about 80 per cent of its sales being outside Poland (and a presence in some 30 countries), this firm is now sitting rather pretty.
366concept.com

8.
Creotech Instruments
Space technology

At times, Poland’s ambitions are literally stratospheric. Creotech Instruments is the country’s largest satellite manufacturer and works with the European Space Agency. It’s currently building Camila, a €52m system of Earth-observation satellites that are operated exclusively by Poland. A defence-spending bonanza has helped too – its €130m MikroGlob military satellites programme. The firm is now aiming for a new satellite factory by 2029 and quadrupling production capacity within three years. After that, the sky is the limit.
creotech.pl

9.
InPost
Delivery

Logistics firm InPost’s new initiative seizes upon a service that’s already known in Asia yet sadly lacking in Europe – “hands-free” travel that whisks your suitcases to your final destination to avoid the need to lug them onto your flight. Currently, it ferries up to 25kg of baggage to any one of 64,680 lockers across Europe. To maximise the size-to-space ratio, InPost also sells custom-made luggage designed to fit into its most capacious cubbyholes, priced at €75 for a suitcase. The only wrinkle that needs ironing out is that delivery takes up to five working days.
inpost.pl

10.
Rondo
Bicycles

During nearly a decade in the business, Rondo has established its reputation as one of the world’s best bicycle makers. Launched in 2017 in Gdansk on the Polish coast, the brand makes the most of its surrounding geography. Co-founders Szymon Kobylinski and his wife, Anna, are rooted in the windsurfing community and wanted their designs to embrace the lightness of the wind, as well as the endurance necessary to cross the gravel roads of Poland’s north. The result is Ruut, the world’s premier gravel bike, plus some rather dashing road bikes.
rondo.cc

For more bright ideas and firms, pick up our dedicated business magazine, ‘The Entrepreneurs’, which is on newsstands from 1 October. Alternatively, listen to our weekly radio show of the same name here on monocle.com or wherever you get your podcasts.

The best of October’s cultural offerings – from bright, bold beats to art showcases to visit

Books

‘American Hagwon’
Min Jin Lee
The third instalment in Min Jin Lee’s Korean-diaspora quartet follows the Koh family across South Korea, Australia and the United States. Tracing decades of migration, financial upheaval and sacrifice, at its heart is a moving reflection on family, ambition and duty, set against the pressure of Korea’s hagwon private-tutoring system.
‘American Hagwon’ is published on 29 September.

‘Passengers’
Alexander Maksik
American novelist Alexander Maksik follows 2022’s The Long Corner with this tale of a father and his adult daughter delayed at LAX on a trip to Paris, the city of his youth. Tensions wax and wane, along with a creeping dread that something has gone wrong. Comparisons with Cormac McCarthy’s The Road will follow but Maksik’s work is laced with humour and arguably more subtle.
‘Passengers’ is published on 13 October.

‘Scene City’
Roísin Tapponi
Fancy being a fly on the walls of the art world? Then this is the book for you. It might read a bit like notes made on a phone but the writing scintillates. It’s a novel about losing the plot and finding a vibe – and those vibes are good.
‘Scene City’ is published on 13 October.

Music

‘Happiness Anytime’
Leon Bridges
US singer-songwriter Leon Bridges worked with J Lloyd-Watson and Lydia Kitto from UK band Jungle on his fifth studio album. The results are bright, bold and full of cosmic beats and easy-listening rhythms. Highlights include the pop-funk of “Light the Way” and the suave “All Day, All Night”.
‘Happiness Anytime’ is released on 25 September.

‘Ave de Maere’
Pierre de Maere
Belgian pop is having a moment and Pierre de Maere is among its shiniest stars. His second full-length features one of the best singles of the year, Monocle Radio favourite “Je Pense à Vous”. Elsewhere, the poignant “J’aurais Fini Par te Plaire” shows off de Maere’s crystalline vocals. See him and his dance moves in person on a European tour that starts in November.
‘Ave de Maere’ is released on 25 September.

‘Everything Has Changed’
Danielle Ponder
Danielle Ponder was a lawyer before signing her first record deal in 2022 at the age of 40. On her second album, she gives powerful voice to ideas of artistic freedom and the black diaspora in “Power”, while the bluesy ballad “God of You” is another standout track.
‘Everything Has Changed’ is released on 9 October.

Film

‘Remake’
Ross McElwee
Decades on from Sundance-winning documentary Sherman’s March and years after the death of his son Adrian, filmmaker Ross McElwee is reflective. “I look at this footage not only to remind myself you were alive,” McElwee narrates over clips of his son, “but to convince myself that you’re gone.” Remake is a meditation on grief, memory and unreliable narration that defies easy categorisation – but it’s among the most astonishing documentaries of this century.
‘Remake’ is released on 25 September.

‘Digger’
Alejandro González Iñárritu
Oscar-winning director and unabashed maximalist Alejandro González Iñárritu returns to English-language filmmaking with his biggest star and biggest stakes yet. Tom Cruise’s Digger Rockwell is a boorish oil billionaire who has carelessly kick-started the apocalypse with his plundering of Earth, unencumbered by morality or any intervention from the dictatorial US president (John Goodman). With only himself to blame, it’s down to Digger to wrangle with both geopolitics and Mother Nature to ensure the survival of both humanity and his beloved cat.
‘Digger’ is released on 2 October.

‘Wicker’
Eleanor Wilson and Alex Huston Fischer
Fantastical comedy Wicker is set in a small medieval town where an unmarried fisherwoman (Olivia Colman) is a social pariah. She turns to the local basket weaver (Peter Dinklage) to create a wicker husband – the result is an Alexander Skarsgård-shaped man whose greatest desire is her sexual fulfilment. Cue chaos in the puritanical community and ridiculously horny joy on our screens.
‘Wicker’ is released on 30 October.

Photography

‘Rafael Pavarotti: Photographer’
Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Paris
Brazilian fashion photographer Rafael Pavarotti has crafted visual worlds for Vogue covers and Dior campaigns, yet at his core he’s still the same curious 12-year-old who borrowed his father’s camera and pooled money with friends to buy film. His early experimentation is seen here in more than 200 prints that are alive with saturated colour and unique storytelling.
‘Rafael Pavarotti: Photographer’ runs from 2 October to 2 May 2027.

Art

‘Roy Lichtenstein: Like New’
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York
Will debates about authorship and appropriation in the age of AI bring new relevance to Roy Lichtenstein’s magpie-like approach to pop art? The Whitney’s curators are banking on it with this vast career retrospective. About 130 comic-indebted works sit alongside recreations of three major wall paintings, including the 29-metre-wide “Greene Street Mural”, which was originally painted for a 1983 exhibition and destroyed after its six-week run. A fitting tribute to a master of recreation.
‘Roy Lichtenstein: Like New’ runs from 11 October to 10 May 2027.

‘Es Devlin: Other Worlds’
Design Museum, London
Need heavyweight artistic cred for a large-scale pop spectacle? Then call Es Devlin. The British artist and designer quoted Paul Bowles for a YSL launch, referenced Charles and Ray Eames at the Super Bowl half-time show and has crafted stage sculptures for Adele, Beyoncé and U2. Expect a dramatic setting for the largest solo presentation of her archive yet, including installations, maquettes and diaries.
‘Es Devlin: Other Worlds’ runs from 2 October to 4 April 2027.

Television

‘Carrie’
Prime Video
Social media can make modern life as a bullied teen feel like an endless digital bucket of pig’s blood, so it’s no wonder that Mike Flanagan has returned to Stephen King’s 1974 novel about a girl’s telekinetic awakening. Brian De Palma’s 1976 adaptation is hard to match but the eight episodes here allow the Haunting of Hill House creator a more nuanced take.
‘Carrie’ is released on 7 October.

‘Below’
Netflix
In Newfoundland, merciless nature collides with some of the warmest and funniest people you could hope to encounter. In Below the community is terrorised by a mysterious sea creature but still able to make it to the pub at the end of the day. Plus, Josh Hartnett nails the place’s Irish-adjacent accent.
‘Below’ is released on 8 October.

‘Nocturne’
Apple TV
Nocturne stars Stephen Graham, which alone makes it appointment television. Liev Schreiber plays a soldier-turned-detective whose search for peace in rural Pennsylvania is interrupted by Graham’s killer. The series is based on the novels of Lars Kepler, the pseudonym of a Swedish husband-and-wife duo.
‘Nocturne’ is released on 30 October.