YOUR DIGITAL STYLIST AND NEW BFF
FROM MALIBU 2 PARIS, WE'VE GOT YOU COVERED
There’s something oddly personal about the cup you carry. You don’t realize it until you’ve gone through a dozen that weren’t quite right — too heavy, too leaky, too ugly to actually bring anywhere. I needed one that could survive my entire day: early walks, traffic, Pilates, and late nights spent half-knitting, half-scrolling. My perfect cup from Corkcicle is the first one that has. It’s the rare balance of form and function — it keeps drinks cold all day, never leaks, and somehow looks chic doing it.
My day usually starts with a walk. I make an iced matcha before I leave, pour it into my cup, and head out. By the time I loop back home, it’s still perfectly cold — not watered down, not tepid. The triple-insulated stainless steel actually does what it claims to, which feels like a luxury in itself. It’s one of those details that makes your morning feel quietly pulled-together, and knowing Corkcicle’s mission to reduce single-use plastic makes it feel even better.
In the car, it fits perfectly into the cupholder. A small thing, but one that feels surprisingly rare. No spills, no balancing act at stoplights, no condensation ring on the console. Just something that works — sleek, sturdy, and easy. It’s one of those rare design pieces that you never have to overthink.
At Pilates, it sits in the corner beside my reformer. I refill it with water, and somehow it still feels cool by the end of class. It never leaks, even when it’s tossed into my tote bag with socks, keys, and a phone that’s perpetually on 4%. Corkcicle feels like the quiet definition of practicality — not flashy, not trying too hard, just reliable and smart.
At night, I trade matcha for tea. I pour it into the same cup, curl up to knit, and let the steam rise while my playlist loops softly in the background. It stays warm until I forget about it — which is kind of the point. It’s a small luxury, having something that adapts to you instead of the other way around.
I’ve realized that the best essentials disappear into your day. They’re practical, effortless, and built to last. The Corkcicle does exactly that — reducing waste, keeping pace with my routine, and fitting seamlessly into the way I live. It’s the rare kind of everyday item that reminds you that good design can be both beautiful and responsible. And plus, it's like the prettiest cup ever. I'm literally bringing it to my next nail appointment for a shade match.
Shop my exact cup style here.
Explore all of Corkcicle's designs here.
Shop my favorite picks below.
I feel it is my duty to be honest with you girls on here, and so I must confess: I'm an avid Amazon shopper. I have succumbed to the new ways of convenience and same-day shipping. You know I love a one-stop shop (hence tigg), and sometimes Amazon can be just that. Now obviously I'm not going on here to buy Diptyque candles or matcha powders (but I do love a bulk order of almond milk), however, sometimes you need to get your hands on tea tree oil and an eyeliner by tonight, and you don't want to fight to find a parking spot on Larchmont to go to the beauty store. So I kind of believe in an all-or-nothing. Either find your niche-curated-flagship-store brand and products, or just resort to Amazon. And when you do fall back on the free shipping and buy now button, here is what you can't miss.
If you are struggling with breakouts, I wholeheartedly suggest switching to clean towels. Since switching, I've seen a significant improvement in my skin, and I no longer have to worry about reapplying bacteria to my face after washing it. These towels also feel incredibly soft and gentle, without stripping away any of your skin's natural hydration. Just remeber to pat!
In my opinion, mixing "bubble bath" and "funny bunny" resembles "put it in neutral", and this is essentially a one-and-done product. I've also found myself to be a loyal OPI fan, and I exclusively use them, whether I'm getting gel polish, regular polish, or doing my nails at home. Either way, they never chip or peel. And I've tested this theory many, many times, and it has proven itself true over and over again.
My friend originally used this, and I felt influenced to buy it and see what it would do. I'm not a believer in the skin's ability to topically absorb collagen, but I still wanted to see if this serum would have a positive effect, making my face more hydrated or softer, or something similar. And I must say, it really is like an Instagram filter on your skin. It's smoothing and softening, and your skin will literally be reflective after using it, not just because the product is shiny, like you will wake up the next day and your forehead will reflect light. I never knew what people meant when they talked about glass skin until now.
I've been searching for cream eyeshadows for quite some time now, and I really like this one, especially in the shade "Guava." I'm never sure what color I want for my eyes because I'm still not sure what my "colors" or "seasons" are, but I recently heard that the shade "Guava" was great for those who have green eyes, and since I'm a part of that community, I decided to give it a try, and I love it! It's great for a daytime or nighttime look (score), and it takes half a second to smooth on to your eyelid and go. I really like the consistency of the product and the pigmentation, so I would definitely recommend it.
I'm going to cut right to the chase: these sheet masks are great for reducing redness and healing post-acne pigmentation, as well as keeping any spots at bay. I was so obsessed with the results that I used the whole box in a week. I didn't even repurchase it because I felt it had healed me and resolved all my problems immediately. But I might grab another order for safekeeping.
I love ice rolling, and I love all the gadgets; this is my latest favorite. It's double-sided, and the shape is great at depuffing, making it feel like a total massage. Plus, it's nice and compact, so I feel like it doesn't get dirty and I can travel with it!
I love these tank tops. They are super flattering and look great with a pair of jeans or sweatpants. I like to size up so they fit looser and then are even more comfortable. Plus, it's nice to have such easy and versatile tops in your closet.
I never used to be a protein bar person, and I'm still not, except for two or three brands, and RXBARs are one of them. They've just introduced pumpkin spice for the season, and I saw it and felt the urge to try it; my new obsession has been unveiled. It's quickly become my new favorite snack, and paired with a coffee, I get the perfect afternoon pick-me-up.
I love this kettle. It sits so beautifully on the counter, and the goose neck is so satisfying when you pour your water out. I don't have a microwave (sad, I know), so I've been boiling water on the stove, and that just felt too tedious for me to whip out a pot every time I wanted a matcha (which is quite often). So I knew it was time to buy a kettle. I had three requirements: it had to be super cute, electric, and affordable. I don't love tea, so I'm not someone who constantly has the kettle on, so I knew I didn't need the best quality, most long-lasting thing you could buy. But honestly, this kettle is great, and I don't know how you could get much better than this. You literally click a button, and the water heats up in like two seconds. And again, it looks gorgeous on your counter.
My favorite season is almost upon us, and I'm already adding knits and corduroy to my cart. This moment, where summer blends to fall, is when you can start wearing pants and cardigans without absolutely sweating and without needing a heavy coat or three layers of undershirts. It's perfect.
It’s also the time when shopping feels the most exciting—when the pieces you buy can actually carry you through the shift. A lightweight sweater tossed over a slip dress, boots that look just as good with bare legs as they do with tights, a jacket that works for a late dinner al fresco now and for chilly coffee runs in October. Pre-fall is all about versatility, and the items I’m eyeing are the kind that will pull me together even in those in-between weeks where the weather can’t quite decide.
One of the few perks of being almost chronically online is stumbling across amazing jewellery brands. I’ll admit that I’m quite picky when it comes to jewellery. I’m always drawn to designs with a little character and uniqueness. Over time, I’ve built up a list of brands that have really caught my eye. Some I’ve already tried (and will stay loyal to forever), while others are still sitting patiently on my wish list.
Here is your ultimate guide to timeless, limitless, and year-round jewellery.
I came across Pilgrim jewellery while visiting Copenhagen in August last year, and I have been a loyal customer of theirs ever since. The brand produces effortless and minimalistic pieces that can be worn all year round, and I am never seen without my silver NEVAHE hoops. My mother is also obsessed with the brand, finding every opportunity to have a browse in the hoops and ring sections of the shop. If you are undecided on whether you prefer gold or silver, Pilgrim caters to both in almost all styles.
You’ve probably seen the knot earrings made famous by Hailey Bieber — those are by Heaven Mayhem. Their vintage-inspired statement pieces are bold enough to spark conversation, yet versatile enough to slip seamlessly into a modern wardrobe. I own the knot earrings myself, and they've become an instant fix for whenever I need a polished lift for any outfit.
Recommended and seen on Eva Meloche, Lemon Lua delivers jewellery that infuses everyday looks with playful flair through a vibrant mix of materials such as sterling silver, gold plating, gemstones, glass, pearls, and ceramics. They even have leather accessories and hair clips. Whenever you need to feel youthful yet sophisticated, Lemon Lua has you covered.
I stumbled upon Bubble and Bead while browsing Pinterest for a terracotta beaded necklace, and I clicked onto their site to see their page adorned with 14k gold-filled pieces set with freshwater pearls and natural stones. Their pieces are durable and all designed to survive life, making it a true staple. If you are picky, practical, and still want jewellery that is truly special, Bubble and Bead are masters in creating pieces you’ll reach for, whatever the season.
Originality feels like a myth. Every campaign is a reference, every runway a revival, every trend a déjà vu. Versace puts Claudia Schiffer back on the catwalk. Balmain restages its 90s archives. TikTok edits pine for 2016 as if it were a lost golden era, though it sits less than a decade behind us. Even the aesthetics of our scrolling — grainy camcorder filters, Y2K fonts, Tumblr collages — are recycled languages of eras past.
Why can’t we sit in the present without dressing it up as something else?
Nostalgia has become our cultural safety blanket. Brands summon the 90s supermodels — Linda, Naomi, Cindy, Christy — like talismans, as though their presence will conjure glamour by osmosis. Miu Miu is still leaning on schoolgirl skirts from the early 2000s. Meanwhile, TikTok is full of edits that claim “2014 Tumblr was the last good era,” complete with The 1975 soundtracks and low-saturation filters. We don’t even wait for decades to pass anymore; we’re already sentimental for the recent past.
When everything is a reference, nothing stands alone. A celebrity red carpet look becomes instantly side-by-side compared to a predecessor. Zendaya in archival Mugler armor wasn’t seen as new but as the reference. Sofia Richie Grainge’s “quiet luxury” moment was simply rebranded Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy minimalism. Even the cult of the Chanel jacket is really just Coco’s original 1950s idea endlessly repackaged for new decades. Innovation is risky; recognition feels safe. Maybe that’s why the present looks like a copy-paste mood board — layered, fragmented, but never whole.
Social platforms don’t reward originality; they reward déjà vu. A new sound rarely goes viral — a recycled snippet does. The “Tom Ford era” TikToks rack up millions of views because they point back to a time we already mythologized. Fashion trends succeed if they feel familiar: ballet flats, capris, denim maxi skirts, all framed as “comebacks.” The present, by itself, rarely gets a chance.
The present is unstable — politically, socially, environmentally. To create something new is to stake a claim in a future we can’t trust will exist. So instead, we look backward. The familiar reassures us that things were good, even if they weren’t. Campaigns dressed in nostalgia don’t just sell clothes; they sell comfort. Maybe we’re not referencing the past to honor it, but to avoid admitting we don’t know what to do with where we are.
So the question lingers: are we mining the past because it holds the keys to moving forward, or because we can’t bear to face the fragility of the present? Do we reference because it’s easier, or because originality has truly become impossible?
Maybe the problem isn’t that everything is a copy. Maybe the problem is that the present doesn’t feel strong enough to inspire anything new.
Scroll long enough on TikTok and you’ll see it: a pair of Zara trousers labeled a “dupe” for Acne Studios jeans. Same vibe, they’ll say. Except the cut isn’t the same, the fabric isn’t the same, and really, the only thing the two share is the fact that they’re pants.
So what even makes something a dupe? Is it about similarity? Price point? The faintest visual adjacency? Or is it simply the internet’s latest lazy shortcut for signaling taste?
Once upon a time, a dupe meant a copy — a stand-in for the original. A cheaper perfume that smelled almost identical, a fast-fashion coat cut to look like Céline. Today, the word has been stretched until it means almost nothing at all. “Dupe” is now slapped on anything that vaguely recalls something else, even if the resemblance is more about mood than material.
TikTok, of course, supercharged this shift. Every product is now explained in relation to another, more expensive reference. Instead of naming what something is, we call it what it isn’t. The language flattens nuance, erasing fabrications, cuts, and craftsmanship in favor of clout by association.
Take the Tabi shoe. Scroll through #dupe and you’ll find endless “Margiela Tabi dupes.” Except… Maison Margiela didn’t invent the Tabi. The split-toe shoe traces back centuries in Japan, long before it became a fashion-girl litmus test in the West.
So what’s a dupe here? A brand borrowing a cultural form? A non-Margiela split-toe being dismissed as derivative? The label of “dupe” assumes ownership of an idea, when fashion has always been about circulation, reinterpretation, and evolution.
Declaring something a dupe is less about accuracy and more about performance. It’s shorthand for: this item will let me sit at that table, visually speaking. The cut might be off, the history might be ignored, but what matters is the quick association.
A Zara coat is called a Max Mara dupe, not because it’s made with the same cashmere blend (it isn’t), but because it signals the same silhouette in a selfie. “Dupe” has become the language of aspiration — a way to frame consumption as cleverness, to imply knowledge of the original without ever engaging with its context.
Here’s the thing: fashion is always referential. Designers lift, remix, and reinterpret constantly. That’s not new. What feels new is our obsession with calling everything a dupe, as if the only way to validate a purchase is by tethering it to something “higher.”
But sometimes a pair of trousers is just a pair of trousers. Sometimes a shoe is an homage, or a revival, or simply an iteration in a longer story. Not every resemblance needs to be collapsed into “dupe.”
Maybe the chicest move is to resist the language entirely — to stop looking for the shadow of something else and instead call things what they are.
Because if everything is a dupe, then nothing is.
There’s a particular kind of photo that floods your feed around mid-July. A girl, sun-kissed and lithe, standing barefoot on the teak deck of a boat somewhere off the coast of St. Tropez. She’s wearing a pastel Pucci or a zigzag Missoni, holding a white Hermès Kelly like it’s a baguette, and captioning it with a single sparkle emoji. She looks gorgeous. Of course she does. But she looks exactly like everyone else.
This is St. Tropez Syndrome. A style affliction where everyone has money, everyone has taste, and no one has any original ideas.
What used to feel like aspirational voyeurism now feels like a very chic group project. You can predict the entire outfit formula before the slide loads: a gauzy patterned mini, slicked-back bun, gold hoops, Oran sandals, and either a vintage Cartier watch or something that whispers “quiet luxury” louder than it should. Throw in an oversized pair of Celine sunglasses and a strategically arranged plate of peaches, and you’ve got the summer aesthetic down to a science.
But when did dressing well become so predictable?
St. Tropez, once the playground of Bardot-era undone glamour, has become more of a seasonal runway for the same five outfits recycled on different yachts. The individuality is gone. Everything feels optimized for Instagram, filtered through a moodboard that was already overdone in 2022. It’s less la dolce vita, more “what’s still in stock at Matches?”
It’s not that any of the pieces themselves are wrong; a white Kelly is forever, and no one’s questioning Hermès. But the styling, the sameness, the sense that everyone is dressing for the same imagined audience… that’s where it loses its magic. Luxury isn’t about fitting in. It’s about the offbeat choices, the things that don’t make sense until you wear them.
There’s nothing wrong with loving a uniform, but the current Euro summer aesthetic feels less like a point of view and more like a dress code. And when the goal is to look expensive, not interesting, we lose what makes fashion fun: the friction, the personality, the unexpected.
So if you’re heading to St. Tropez, by all means, pack the Missoni. But maybe mix it with something that doesn’t match. Throw in a sandal that isn’t Oran. Wear the bag no one recognizes. Be the one they screenshot — not the one they scroll past.
Here's how I would do St. Tropez instead:
There’s something happening in the world of hair — a quiet shift away from perfection. The slick, over-styled blowout has started to feel try-hard, and the overly tonged wave is giving early YouTube tutorial. What’s taking its place? Hair that looks like you didn’t touch it… but somehow still looks expensive.
It’s the kind of style that whispers instead of shouts. A soft part. A frayed end. A slept-in texture that feels both unbothered and carefully considered. Think post-swim hair at Hotel du Cap, or the kind of bend you get from tying your hair with a silk ribbon and forgetting about it. It’s a beauty moment that’s less about performance, more about mood.
“Undone” doesn’t mean messy. It means softened. Think of hair as part of the outfit, not a finishing touch. Instead of trying to control every strand, allow for a bit of movement, asymmetry, even imperfection. The modern It Girl isn’t striving — she’s floating.
French girls have always known this. So has every model at their 7 a.m. call time. The trick is to look like you didn’t even try, even if you spent five minutes perfecting that one misplaced strand.
This is hair that suggests a life — a spontaneous coffee run, a kiss in the backseat, a day spent somewhere coastal. It’s cinematic, not contrived. You don’t need it to hold. You want it to move.
Because the modern It Girl isn’t curated — she’s composed. Effortlessly.
The Scout Mocha Suede Jacket from The Jacket Maker just landed, and it’s proof that this season’s suede moment is more than a fleeting fling. Cut with that perfectly boxy, borrowed-from-him drape and rendered in buttery-soft goatskin suede, it feels vintage without the thrift-store dig—and yes, the silky lining and bonus garment bag make the unboxing feel downright couture.
Style it tomboy-cool over a Cou Cou Intimates pointelle mini or shrug it on with faded 501s and a baby tee—the jacket’s earthy mocha tone warms up lace and denim alike. If you’re hunting for the ultimate suede jackets for women, this one ticks every box: supple yet structured, fully lined, and delivered with thoughtful extras (hello, garment bag and car freshener). Sleeves push, collar pops, and the buttery goatskin suede softens with every wear—proof that minimal effort can still read maximal chic.
Add this boxy suede hero to cart, and your spring-to-fall layering game is officially sorted.
Picture tender green shoots underfoot, a cotton–linen dress catching the first warm breeze, and a wicker basket filling with market blooms—that’s the energy DÔEN’s Spring 2025 edit delivers. Curated by Sky, these five field-ready pieces glide from coastal wanders to farmers market mornings without missing a beat.
After months wrapped in heavy knits, we're craving fabrics that breathe. Linen’s airy weave keeps you cool; cotton’s softness makes every piece picnic-friendly. DÔEN’s neutral “Salt” palette slips effortlessly beside raffia accessories, vintage denim, or a just-picked bouquet—no outfit overthinking required.
This is the set of the season. The thin strappy bralette-inspired top paired with a long and oh so flattering skirt is the prettiest outfit to be in. Crafted in a breathable ramie-linen blend, it’s sheer enough for salt-air days yet polished for brunch. Pair it with sandals from The Row (or their Amazon dupes) or, in true DÔEN style, just go barefoot and feel the grass or sand in your toes.
Soft organic-cotton voile, scalloped lace trim, and pintuck clusters give Frederica its romantic swing. The slightly cropped silhouette tucks perfectly into high-rise denim, which is what I'm reaching for as an everyday look. Or you can take my boho chic route and style it as I did with a drapey long cream skirt and knee-high black boots. Bonus points if they are rain boots and you can run through the mud in the English countryside. But like I said: bonus points.
Cut in airy organic-cotton voile, Sofia marries a collar-bone-skimming scoop neckline (finished with a sweet tie) to short puff sleeves and a fitted bodice that releases into an ankle-grazing, bias-cut skirt. The result feels vintage-ladylike yet low-maintenance. It's versatile and can be worn to brunch or errands in the city; regularly $248, it lands squarely in the “it's good quality” zone without tipping into guilty purchasing.
Whisper-thin organic-cotton voile, a smocked bodice, flutter sleeves, and an ankle-grazing skirt that floats like a sea breeze. A functional tie at the waist customizes the fit from barefoot beach walks to gallery openings. Very wellness-loving, moon juice buying, off-duty Victoria's Secret angel approved.
DÔEN’s spring edit is more than pretty—it’s a ready-made capsule for warm-weather wandering. Each linen-cotton piece softens with every wear, carrying you from first lilacs to high-summer golden hour—no dry-cleaning drama required.
Pro tip: grab your picks while the Mother's Day sale pricing still sings; sizes are disappearing faster than the last bouquet at the flower stall.
