Flashbulbs erupt in Cannes as Bella Hadid appears in a flowing archival dress stitched from keffiyeh fabric. A few weeks later, at Copenhagen Fashion Week, a student in sneakers loosely ties the same patterned scarf around their neck: two very different stages, one shared garment. The keffiyeh has moved far beyond its origins as protective headwear. It is a symbol, a statement, and a provocation, depending on who you ask. So how did a square of fabric woven with fishnet grids and olive-leaf motifs become one of the most charged fashion items in 2025? And what does wearing it mean in the era of Instagram street style and political solidarity?

The pavement is almost too hot to touch. Somewhere between a café table and a boutique window, a woman’s Havaianas flip-flops slap softly against her heels, the rhythm only interrupted when she pauses to check her phone. Across the street, a model in leather slides exits a runway rehearsal, looking effortlessly polished. Meanwhile, a vendor stacks towers of plastic thongs like candy on a quiet beach in Rio. Humble, inexpensive, and sometimes controversial, flip-flops carry stories that extend far beyond sand and sea. They reveal more about taste, class, politics, and environmental issues than you might expect, and by 2025, they are just as likely to be seen on the runway as they are at the corner shop.

Copenhagen has mastered the art of the quiet statement. There are no blaring theatrics, no unnecessary excess, just an assured voice that carries further each season. From 4 to 8 August 2025, the Danish capital once again proved why it has become one of fashion’s most closely watched cities, staging 44 shows and presentations that gracefully moved between heritage and freshness, concept and wearability.

Julie Kegels entered quietly into a fashion world that often moves fast and shouts. There was no front-page frenzy, no viral moment, just presence, precision, and a body of work that speaks in volumes even when it whispers.

Now part of the design studio at Alaïa, the legendary Parisian house built on sculpted sensuality, Kegels is helping to define a new chapter. One that looks back at the brand’s deep heritage while offering something distinctly forward, a fusion of Belgian conceptualism and Parisian allure.

Bad Bunny isn’t the first global music star to wear a skirt. He isn’t the only man to walk in pearls or paint his nails in glossy pinks. But when a Puerto Rican reggaetón icon, built from the sounds of perreo and steeped in the bravado of Latinx masculinity, steps into traditionally “feminine” clothing, it doesn’t just make a fashion statement. It cracks something open.