Innehållsförteckning för March 2023 från Vogue

I’M WRITING THIS IN JANUARY, well into resolution season. And yet I don’t know many people who actually made resolutions this year. Is the practice a little passé? So much has been said about the relentlessness of our age, and that very modern yearning for perfection—for so-called optimization (an awful word). But perhaps we’ve had enough? Perhaps something is shifting? Fashion certainly thinks so. To see the spring collections last fall was to see designers celebrating imperfection, the handmade, that place where authenticity and creativity meet. Marni, led by the designer Francesco Risso, is a prime example of this, and Vogue contributing editor Maya Singer writes in this issue about the “purposeful imperfection” of Risso’s latest collection—the dangling threads and the seemingly offhand combinations of textures. A similar spirit was…

Though Emily Adams Bode Aujla, founder of Bode, has now designed her very first line of clothing for women, it’s not the first time she has designed women’s clothes. Students of Bode’s short but wildly successful history will note that while at school—simultaneously studying fashion at Parsons School of Design and philosophy at Eugene Lang College—Emily and her roommate routinely crafted their own clothes for the weekend ahead. “On Fridays, we would stay up late and make a skirt out of crushed velvet or something,” Emily remembers. Making women’s clothes, it seems, wasn’t so much a challenge as a natural occurrence. “It just came so naturally to me that I wasn’t as inspired by it.” Other factors steered her early direction too: At Parsons, after one design assignment (“Astronauts, maybe?”),…

Even if you’re having pork,” says Northern Ireland–based chef Erin Bunting, “that pig was probably, somewhere, eating flowers.” Bunting is describing the way flowers are more intertwined with what we consume than we might think—a point made in the new cookbook she coauthored with Jo Facer, The Edible Flower (Laurence King Publishers), out this month. These chefs see rose petals as a perfect ingredient for a summer berry pavlova, lavender as an enhancement for slow-roasted lamb, geranium as the essence of a sweet sorbet, and marigolds as punctuation for a classic Irish soda bread. For Bunting and Facer, a couple who fled busy London9-to-5s to start a catering business in 2016, it all starts in the garden. “We grow edible flowers among our potatoes, beans, and our courgettes because…

Beginning in the 17th century and continuing to this day, India’s impact on Western fashion has been a complicated and layered history of admiration, appropriation, exploitation, and celebration.” So writes Hamish Bowles, Vogue’s global editor at large and the editor in chief of The World of Interiors, in India in Fashion, a lavish new book due this spring from Rizzoli, which he edited and contributed to alongside writers including Suzy Menkes, Priyanka R. Khanna, Avalon Fotheringham, and Alia Allana. “The treasury of India’s sartorial and textile traditions have provided inspiration that led to imitation at the court of Louis XVI and the couturiers of Jazz Age Paris, the sportswear designers of midcentury America, and the hippies of the Summer of Love,” he continues. Yet for all of that cultural crosspollination,…

On a crisp, sunny day in southeastern Spain, a 19-year-old tennis player is training. As of last September, he is number one in the world and the youngest to hold his ranking since records began. Carlos Alcaraz, “Carlitos” to his friends, “Charlie” when talking to himself, has lived at this tennis academy in Villena for the past three years. The facility is built amid farmland, and lies between a high-security prison and a medieval castle. The new king of tennis trains here for two hours every morning—and there’s much more to come, he assures me, after the morning session is over. His schedule consists of “tennis, tennis, and more tennis.” He slides and glides across the court. “Venga, venga, venga!” he tells himself, clenching his fist. As the ball makes…

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Gucci clutch The runway at Gucci’s doubly chic Twinsburg show—Alessandro Michele’s last with the label—featured twins dressed identically, each carrying an identical iteration of this statement-making bag. A clutch of beige satin embroidered with neat rows of pearls, the accessory is adorned with a removable strap—with its own fringe of aquatic blue pearls—and appears like a treasure unearthed from the sea. One could very well say it’s so nice that it had to be shown twice.…

Killing It “The concept for all my shoots right now is beauty,” says photographer Norman Jean Roy. “I’m only interested in making everyone I photograph look beautiful, relaxed, happy.” Roy made good on that ideal two times over in this issue, with both “Sister Act,” Tamar Adler’s profile of the inventive Gohar sisters (page 196), and “Trial by Fire,” Adam Green’s interview with actor Jodie Comer (page 180). Of the latter—seen above, surrounded by hairstylist Joey George, contributing fashion editor Max Ortega, and Roy himself—the photographer reports, “Jodie is such a lovely person with natural beauty, inside and out. We chatted a lot before and during the shoot, which always helps add shape and tone to a photograph.” Island Time Late last August, photographer Ngoc Minh Ngo headed out to…

I have a colleague who travels the world to report on hotels and parties. Her Instagram is a pastiche of how the other half lives—and by the other half I mean those without kids. But the post of hers that really made my heart race had little to do with far-flung social engagements or uninterrupted adult conversation: It showed her reclining in a tub, lauding the elegant setup at the new Fouquet’s hotel in New York. A bathing experience minus the squeak of rubber duckies—a truly tantalizing prospect. In the immortal words of comedian Ali Wong, I no longer want to lean in, I want to lie down. All this concurrent career-building and child-rearing is really quite a lot—and is there anything more simultaneously indulgent and simple than a bath…

Are you excited?” Ellen Marmur, MD, asks me, beaming from behind her mask, when I settle into a treatment room at her white-walled Upper East Side office on a cold winter afternoon. The Manhattan-based dermatologist has just returned from a weekend at Revance’s headquarters in Nashville, where the pharmaceutical company hosted about 80 cosmetic dermatologists and plastic surgeons for a series of intensive seminars on Daxxify, the latest neuromodulator to receive FDA approval for the treatment of the glabella, the frequently furrowed lines between the eyebrows. In the company’s clinical trials, “Daxi,” as Marmur refers to it, had shown median outcomes lasting six months—sometimes up to nine months—more than twice as long as any other botulinum product on the market. As a member of Daxxify’s scientific advisory board since 2018,…

On a rainy November night last fall, the Brooklyn Museum celebrated the American opening of “Thierry Mugler: Couturissime,” the first retrospective to celebrate the idiosyncratic world of the late French couturier. Marc Jacobs posed with Laverne Cox, Mugler muses Stella Ellis and Connie Fleming paraded the exhibition halls, and Casey Cadwallader—the house’s current creative director—escorted Kylie Jenner, who wore a waist-snatching corseted black gown from Mugler’s fall 1995 couture collection. A familiar smell wafted through the crowd, growing stronger as you approached the center of the exhibition, where the designer’s olfactory achievements, most notably his 1992 triumph, Angel, were on view: Even encased in glass, the iconic—and polarizing—eau de parfum that forever changed the fragrance world made itself known. To have lived through the ’90s is to know Angel’s cloying,…

The first time I got eyelash extensions was two years ago at Cils en Seine, a small, elegant space in Paris and one of the city’s first studios dedicated to the service. Wanting a natural look, I asked the esthéticienne for a lash type with relatively relaxed courbure, or curvature. She looked at my downward-growing lashes—a trait shared by many Koreans—and shook her head. “You need a lot more courbure than you think.” Much like sheet masks and snail slime serums, lash extensions—the technique of gingerly adhering false lashes to existing ones with glue—have become one of Seoul’s biggest beauty exports. The extensions fall off with the natural growth cycle, or can be removed with a solvent, but most clients tend to get their lashes redone every three to four…

Last summer, in the midst of an emotional tangle I was struggling to unknot, I made an impromptu trip abroad. The trip itself is sidelong to the story I want to tell here, a story about two long flights, the first a sleepless red-eye I spent running laps around my predicament, returning again and again to the question Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can’t my life, for once, be straightforward, instead of this endlessly forking path into the dark? On the flight home, I distracted myself by watching movies—notably, Pedro Almodóvar’s Parallel Mothers. The film turned me upside down. Its plot is a pileup of mistakes, on a spectrum from oblivious error to historic catastrophe, yet the note Almodóvar lands on is one of uplift: bonds…

We are 11 or 12 years old, but most of us look younger; we have been chosen, in part, because we are small for our age. Our smiles are tense, our necks stretched, our backs erect. Perhaps we are pretending, as we’ve been taught, that a puppeteer is pulling up our heads by a string. We have been told that our ballet school is the best in the world; we have been told that we are lucky. There are 20 of us in the photo, and we all want the same thing: to dance with the New York City Ballet. My cheek is tilted toward the light, but my eyes are pointed down. This year, my body has begun to defy me: The curve of my hip is peeking out…

I have been bleaching my hair a solid, uninterrupted blond—not brassy, not gray, but a shade of pure peroxide, like Barbie or Pamela Anderson—since 2002, when I persuaded a friend to lovingly paint my entire head with a packet of drug-store powder bleach and let it cook. My scalp burned and itched. Inches of my hair snapped off, but the result was glorious. It was unnatural, and unkempt, and radical—a kind of imperfect perfection that rebelled against the glossy-lipped, high-definition, pseudo-real pop world that MTV was peddling at the time. I didn’t want to slip into a pair of leather chaps like Christina Aguilera; I wanted the ’70s grit of Debbie Harry. Despite my decades-long desire for non-conformity, I always feel a bit of anxiety when I see that reverse…

Looking at Sasha Gordon’s big full-bodied paintings, it’s impossible not to feel the emotion of what’s happening in her life. “I’m definitely a little like Taylor Swift,” she says, laughing. “If something bad happens, I need to paint it. Sometimes there’s a drought—an idea drought—where I don’t really have anything going on, and other times I’m super emotionally charged and manic, and I need to paint something.” That something is always herself. Like Froth, her most recent painting, is all about the breakup of her “first-ever dating experience.” Gordon, who is half white, half Asian, queer, and 24, had never been in a relationship before. (The painting was recently in a group show at the Rudolph Tegners Museum outside of Copenhagen, alongside works by more established artists like Cecily Brown,…

Motherhood might be the thing that comes most naturally to Badu. While her male musician friends were busy scoping the audience for groupies, she was looking out for babysitters Erykah Badu likes to wear clothes that make music when she walks—it’s why today she has strings of bells strapped to her ankles. She also has a tangle of amethyst crystal pendants thrown over her paint-splattered overalls, gigantic silver rings on each finger, rubber bangles stacked up to her elbows, and a red beanie pulled over her hair. Standing on the porch of her South Dallas childhood home, a modest white clapboard house where her mother still lives, she’s serving a look that’s part shamanic priestess, part artist at work. This is a Tuesday in mid-December and the area has been…

Table of Contents: 62: On Nadia: shirt; driesvannoten.com. Bracelets from Chanel Fine Jewelry (select Chanel boutiques), Cartier (Cartier boutiques), and Harwell Godfrey (metiersf.com). On Laila: shirt; ralphlauren.com. Tailor: Cha Cha Zutic. Cover Look: 80: Coat; marni.com. Tailor: Hailey Desjardins. Editor’s Letter: 84: Left photo: Jacket, skirt (simonerocha.com), veil (Dover Street Market, New York), and shoes (Dover Street Market, Los Angeles). Making History: 119: Coat, jacket, and fringed top; bode.com. Ear cuff; contact@anakhouri.com. INTO THE MYSTIC 148–149: Coat; upon request. 150: Dress; Hermès boutiques. 151: Dress and blanket; marni.com. 152–153: On Badu: T-shirt; r13.com. On Curry: T-shirt; bananarepublic.com. 154: Dress; theshopyohjiyamamoto.com. R13 T-shirt; r13.com. 155: Coats; prada.com. 157: Sweatshirt; loewe.com for information. Hat; theshopyohjiyamamoto.com. Shoes; balenciaga.com. Erykah Badu pearl talisman necklace. Tailor: Hailey Desjardins. MAXIMUM CITY 158: Veil; Dover Street Market,…