THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT | ISSUE 03
From New York’s subways to Milan’s boardrooms to Texas oil fields, fashion staged a not-so-quiet revolution this week. Buckle in, Buttercup.
CHANEL SHOW — A SUBWAY, BUT MAKE IT COUTURE
On Tuesday, Chanel steamed in with a vengeance, commandeering New York’s subway and transforming it into a shimmering tunnel of craft. The Métiers d’Art show—Matthieu Blazy’s second official runway—was an extravaganza of color, texture, and cut: brocades catching in the fluorescent glare, metallic threads sparking like live wires, feather-fine trims swinging with that unmistakable Blazy precision.
And the details you might’ve missed at first glance?
A squirrel tail brushing the flap of a classic Chanel bag—chef’s kiss.
Glossy cherry-red apples speared mid-stiletto.
Embellished insects dancing across collarbones with mischievous delight.
Elevated yet irreverent, Blazy didn’t take Chanel—or himself—too seriously.
But make no mistake: this was world-building.
Chanel newspapers.
Branded MetroCards.
Subway pillars washed in signature Chanel Red.
Even if a coat is out of reach, that lipstick isn’t. Blazy knows a gateway when he sees one.
One thing you could never call Blazy is blazé. His show was an ode to handwork and craft—the twin pillars of the house. He honored the codes yet cracked them wide open, dragging Chanel squarely into the present.A croc-embossed skirt edged in metal and paired with an amber twinset; pistachio-and-mint jacquards that pulsed with movement; shoes reimagined with sculptural tongues and whisper-thin ankle straps—this was Chanel’s handwork electrified.
This week, everyone who’s anyone in fashion will be talking about it, pre-ordering it, wearing it.
Long hail Chanel.
Did anyone ever doubt them? Certainly not Blazy, blazing forward with unapologetic force and leaving a trail of fringe in his wake.
And CbC? We’re jumping the turnstile.
WHEN MINIMALISM MARRIES EXCESS — WHAT PRADA’S VERSACE TAKEOVER REALLY MEANS
Is Prada the next Perseus?
Will they behead Medusa and wield her power—or fall victim to the weight of her serpentine crown?
That’s the question everyone in the know is whispering backstage.
What will Prada’s billion-plus takeover of Versace mean for fashion’s next act?
And now, with the sudden departure of Dario Vitale—announced abruptly on Thursday—and Donatella’s swift reinstatement, fashion insiders are rapt. The news hit so hard Vogue editors reportedly ran from the room to break it—proof that this saga is far from settled.
Can Miuccia & Co. take an unprofitable house and breathe new life into it?
Can they build a fashion conglomerate strong enough to challenge—mon Dieu—LVMH?
And in an age where luxury is wobbling, was this even a wise move at all?
As the two Italian giants slip beneath one very chic umbrella, the path ahead grows… intriguing. Versace will undoubtedly benefit from Prada’s superior manufacturing and craft—but will that be enough to pull the house out of its long, gilded slump? It remains to be seen.
Change has been Versace’s only constant: Capri’s acquisition in 2018; Donatella passing the creative torch to Vitale last March; and Thursday’s abrupt firing—a dramatic reversal that places the Medusan scepter directly back in Donatella’s grasp.
Vitale’s first collection, shown this September, was a vibrant cocktail of saturated color, ’80s nostalgia, and an almost—fitting—wink toward Prada itself. Not surprising, considering he spent over a decade at Miu Miu. Critics praised the debut.
But now, as the house snaps back toward Donatella’s maximalist hand, the question on everyone’s lips becomes: what does this mean for Prada?
Will they be able to tame the Medusa—or will the serpent strike the hand that feeds it?
Will Prada, Miu Miu, and Versace become the Italian trifecta we didn’t know we needed?
Will Donatella remain head of house? Something tells me she won’t.
Stay tuned… Vitale was merely the serpent’s first strike.
FASHION GETS DOWN & DIRTY IN TEXAS — LANDMAN MAKES ITS CASE
Fashion often lives between the pages of a magazine—just ask Madonna or Vogue.
But on the flickering screen of your TV? A far rarer gem, and Landman on Paramount+ is exactly that.
As good as the acting and writing are—and they truly are—it’s costume designer Janie Bryant’s looks that steal the show.
In television—a land of questionable fashion choices—Bryant’s pulls are spot-on. Not every character is “fashionable,” but each wardrobe reflects a personality, a history, a mood. Clothes become subtext.
From Ali Larder’s unapologetically body-con silhouettes to Demi Moore’s refined—and highly covetable—wardrobe, the choices feel curated. They breathe life into the characters and are as essential to the series as Texas itself. In the season-two premiere, Moore is a powerhouse in a monochrome Tom Ford suit—armor-sharp, befitting her ascent as head of her late husband’s oil empire.
And Billy Bob Thornton? Arguably the richest character on the series—and a masterclass in subtle evolution. His transition from gruff West Texas GM to corporate president preserves every ounce of his signature swagger: broken-in boots, ubiquitous cowboy hat, that rough-spun, dust-born charm. But Bryant tempers it with sharper tailoring and a quietly powerful jacket game. It’s refinement without polish, ambition rooted deep in Texas soil—a man climbing the ladder but still brushing off the dust from the field.
Bryant has done what few costume designers on TV do. She’s fashioned a rich, authentic edit, and in doing so, she’s hit Texas gold.
Her well is deep—and she’s coming in strong.
From subways, to serpents, to oil fields… fashion’s fault lines are shifting.
A week like this doesn’t just send ripples through the fabric—it rips the weave wide open.
The only question left…
Off with whose head?