The Chai Collection

Madness, magic, and Moscow.
A surreal, haunting masterpiece where the Devil visits the Soviet Union; it’s satire, romance, and philosophy all in one. I love how it turns chaos into poetry.

A portrait of elegance and rebellion.
Maïwenn’s Jeanne is both muse and monarch of her own fate: the costumes, the longing, the restraint. It feels like Versailles dipped in melancholy.

A baroque rebirth of romance.
Where excess meets emotion: lace, volume, and symbolism. Michele turns Valentino into a poetic dreamscape, a love letter to craft and character.

A voice that feels like prayer and heartbreak intertwined.
Every song drips with longing: raw, ethereal, and devastatingly human. “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” still sounds like an open wound dressed in velvet.

Conversations stitched with style, memory, and melancholy.
Tangled with identity, nostalgia, and desire. It feels like eavesdropping on a creative mind mid thought surrounded by velvet and ideas.

A mirror held up to modern intimacy.
Playful but piercing, it dissects the quiet shame around wanting love in an age obsessed with irony and self sufficiency. It’s social commentary dressed as confession: clever, a little cruel, and painfully true.

Unsettling, poetic, and almost otherworldly, he carries the chaos of genius on screen.

There’s fragility beneath the madness like a Rimbaud spirit lost in cinema.

The moment fashion picked up a guitar.
Balmain turned structure into seduction: sharp shoulders, metallic threads, and rockstar nonchalance. It wasn’t just a jacket; it was a manifesto for a generation raised on glam and rebellion.

A study in excess, elegance, and perception.
Silk gowns and porcelain pastels;  the exhibition captures a woman who became myth. Beyond the opulence lies the question of image: how beauty and tragedy can coexist within one crown.