
Roksanda brings sculptural silhouettes to London Fashion Week
The Serbian-born, London-based designer established her brand in 2005, rapidly becoming known for her bold, smart and sculptural approach to womenswear.
Roksanda's client base include the Princess of Wales, Anne Hathaway and Cate Blanchett as her sophisticated, sleek yet vibrant designs are fit for royals and Hollywood A-listers alike.
Ilincic's high end fans are an untimid class of women who do not necessarily need pointers to her inspiration.
They are into her vibrant colour sense, revel in her extravagantly offbeat volumes and abstract drapes and appreciate the print-craft textures she wraps into her clothes.
And her following will undoubtedly be thrilled with this latest collection.
Inspired by the British sculptor Phyllida Barlow, the show closed with a monologue of Barlow stating: ' Space is malleable, it's a material, it's not just an empty vacuum.'
The runway didn't stray far from Ilincic's creative roots, featuring stand-out colour blocking, modern cuts and sculptural silhouettes.
Sharp lines were apparent alongside sumptuous heavy grey knits, oversized blazers and pinstriped wool capes.
But it was not all long-lined neutrals.
Roksanda's party wear stole the show with loose thread fringing, large disco sequins and vivid contrasting silks.
Sustainability has always been at the core of Ilincic's design philosophy.
This collection was inspired by Barlow's use of repurposing discarded items, which helped her explore fragility, impermanence and physicality, creating work that feels in constant motion.
Ilincic evoked Barlow's own use of fabrications such as cardboard, tape and paint.
Texture, colour and tactile experimentation took centre stage, featuring unconventional fabrics from fringe-spiked raffia to fil coupé tapestry and oversized sequins.
Roksanda's signature dresses revealed their inner construction, while sharp, oversized tailoring was complemented by elegant organza panels that introduced a refined, feminine softness.
In quintessential Roksanda style, there was a celebration of colour, delving into what lies beneath its surface, using dripping threads and cut outs.
Constructed from negative spaces around the pattern pieces, dresses blurred the lines between sculpture and garment.
With a sustained focus on space and form, there was no better venue than the Space House in central London, designed by architect Richard Seifert, this brutalist and minimal backdrop resonates with Roksanda's strong and sculptural design philosophy.

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BBC News
36 minutes ago
- BBC News
Dating apps try something different to keep search for love online
I'm sitting - trying to look composed - in a London bar. Cocktail ordered, there's a rollercoaster knot of anticipation building in my stomach - I'm waiting for a this isn't exactly your typical dating rendezvous - because while my date and I met online, as so many people do nowadays, we matched on an app that doesn't allow users to exchange messages until a few hours before the meetup.I know my date's name and I've seen her photo, but there's been none of the usual small talk messaging - just a few words to confirm I'm looking forward to meeting, and that's it.I first started using dating apps during the Covid lockdowns - Hinge mainly, but I've also tried Tinder and Bumble. They introduced me to a vibrant mix of people - some became short-term flings, others full-blown relationships, and then there were the other indefinable after a mutual new year break-up (with an ex I'd met on Hinge), I returned to the dating app scene as a 30-something tired of the cookie-cutter profiles and weird monoculture. Everyone seems to be looking for someone who "doesn't take themselves too seriously", is itching to make travel and running a personality trait, or is desperate to go hiking. As a wheelchair user, I definitely won't be doing the last two - no matter how much physio I do.I wanted something different. I was after a pasta admirer, like me So, when a friend told me about an app which cuts out pre-date chat and gets straight to the date, I was intrigued. No awkward talking stage, no wondering if you've asked someone out too early - or left it too suggests an overwhelming number of daters have online burnout - so it's no wonder dating apps are trying to reignite the Feeld, an app for the sexually curious; Fourplay, which teams single friends together with other pairs for group dates; and Lex, an LGBTQ+ message board app, while Raya is invite-only for celeb to Ofcom, singletons aged under 25 are dating online more than any other age group – so the big dating apps are also adding functionality to try to keep them June, Tinder introduced its double date feature. Akin to the Fourplay app, it lets users create a joint profile with a friend. Tinder's umbrella company, Match Group, said it needed to keep up with what Gen Z wanted and "build lower-pressure" ways for them to has basically been charging more for a premium match-making service. Hinge X, the most expensive tier, charges £24.99 per week for "enhanced access to your type", the ability to "skip the line" and "like priority". The obvious question, of course, is how that works if multiple users are signed up - they can't all be the apps preach a tailored focus, but together respond to the same underlying sense of dating fatigue I have been feeling too. I'd been sending messages into the ether without any guarantee the algorithm would actually get them to the potential future love of my life - increasingly it felt a waste of as someone who's been on the end of multiple failed talking stages in the past few months - cutting straight to the date felt a novel thing to try. Because, why not? Does online dating work? Once mocked, online dating is now a global love affair worth billions, and love at first swipe has become the generational norm. Almost 10% of Brits told a recent YouGov poll they met their partner on an app too, so that probably tells us studies show cross-gender dissatisfaction, with women overwhelmed by matches, while men generally struggle and are more likely to turn to paid features to boost their chances. Add the normalisation of unhealthy dating behaviours like ghosting - suddenly cutting contact without explanation - and some drained daters are deciding: "it's not me, it's you".Last year, a class action lawsuit accused Match Group, owners of mainstream apps like Tinder and Hinge, of using addictive game-like features to encourage compulsive use. The case has since been sent to arbitration. Match Group rejected the claims calling the lawsuit "ridiculous", reports Reuters news Depth: Why dating apps could be in troubleIs speed dating the answer for Gen Zs looking for love?Tinder's height filter divides datersYet, despite trying to keep us hooked, Ofcom data shows the UK's most popular dating apps saw usage fall by 16% in 2024. Tinder lost 594,000 users, Hinge dropped by 131,000, Bumble by 368,000 and Grindr by 11,000. In June, Bumble laid off 30% of its global Breeze, the new app I was trying, once you match a date is booked at a "partner venue" - this is partly how the app makes its money. Users pay upfront for a drink which acts as a soft deterrent to prevent no-shows – but bail repeatedly and your account will be temporarily my profile, I wrote that I hoped to meet someone self-assured - able to laugh at life and themselves, while also embracing a dance floor with enthusiasm. Bonus points for cat people and pasta-admirers. My date, Rozena (not her real name), had amazing eyes - deep blue, with a purple tinge. She said she was looking for a long-term relationship, listed culture and theatre among her interests, and described the "worst idea she ever had" as the time she tried a particular dance move in heels, and ended up in an felt like exactly the kind of calamity I could get on board with. And that's how I found myself heading to this date.I'd flagged to Breeze that I'm a wheelchair user to make sure the venue was accessible before the booking was confirmed. The app's support team was responsive and the bar certainly seemed fine on paper. But while I could technically get in, all the indoor tables were up a few steps I couldn't navigate, meaning we would have to sit outside. The app later apologised for this and said it would work on how it audits places for accessibility in the future. Less pre-chat made us more present I messaged Rozena through the app - in the short pre-date window that opens just before that first meeting. She was understanding and said she'd brought a raincoat. Luckily, the rain held off. Less fortunately, the table leg made it difficult for me to wheel my chair under it, meaning I had to do a Tom Daley-style swan dive every time I reached for my drink. At least I didn't knock it date was fun - but there was no romantic spark. Rozena admitted her interest in music didn't extend beyond musicals. And while she claimed to be joking, I suspect her disappointment that I wasn't as aligned with her passion for theatre may have been we have discovered there was no chemistry had we met on an app with a pre-date chat function? It's impossible to say. But the limited pre-meet communication window seemed to make us both more engaged when we met in I told Rozena I was thinking of writing an article about the app, she told me she'd been on a few dates through it. One drawback she'd discovered was that her matches weren't always close by – she'd had dates travel from hours away to meet up. Perhaps this is due to a growing user base. After finishing our drinks and saying goodbye, the app's chat window stayed open for a few hours, meaning we could check each other had reached home was an opportunity to exchange numbers via the app if both parties wished to. I received a message saying Rozena had declined, but she left a note saying she had had a lovely time. I am unable to contact her again, but it gave closure. No on this new approach to online dating, I wonder if we are going full circle, pining for the traditional dating culture of the pre-internet age? Sure, it didn't work out this time for me and my date, but it felt much more human, less isn't unique in trying to do something different to help daters find love, but my experience on it made me realise that chatting beforehand can actually really help to build rapport ahead of a date (even if I do sometimes accidentally send essays). Even so, I'll probably continue to use Breeze, as it feels quite low my Hinge dating profile is still running and I'm chatting to four people there - who knows how many might lead to a date? Or perhaps I'll bump into the love of my life the old fashioned way - no phone, no algorithm. Imagine that.

Rhyl Journal
39 minutes ago
- Rhyl Journal
Keep it Rhyl: Celebrities back £20 million regeneration plan
TV stars and well-known personalities are supporting Keep it Rhyl, an ambitious scheme to revive the town through a £20 million regeneration plan over the next decade. The campaign calls on residents to support local businesses, charities, and community groups as part of the wider vision. Kimberly Hart-Simpson, a Rhyl-born actress known for Coronation Street and Celebrity Hunted, is among several celebrities who have shared messages of support on social media. Sian Lloyd (Image: Supplied f) Others include ITV journalist Carole Green, BBC presenter Sian Lloyd, and Spencer 'Big Spen' Wilding, an actor whose credits include Star Wars, Doctor Who, and Harry Potter. The campaign is led by the Rhyl Neighbourhood Board, a group of residents, entrepreneurs, councillors, and grassroots leaders. Craig Sparrow, chair of the board, said: "This is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to shape the future of our town and we want everyone to be part of it. "We're calling on residents of all ages, businesses, schools, community groups, and individuals with a love for Rhyl to get involved. "Share your voice, your story, your ideas — no matter how big or small. "Film a short message, post your favourite memory, suggest something bold, or simply tell us what Rhyl means to you." Actor Spencer Wilding urged the board to focus on young people and celebrate the town's strengths. Spencer 'Big Spen' Wilding (Image: Supplied) Mr Wilding said: "I have lived in the area all my life and feel it's important we get behind the regeneration programme, celebrate the best of Rhyl and do it for the next generation – let's shine a light on Rhyl, even stronger than ever." Mr Sparrow said the campaign is about more than infrastructure and investment. He added: "This campaign is about more than buildings and investment, it's about pride, connection, and community. "It's about celebrating our past while building a future we can all be proud of. "Every voice counts. Every message matters. "Together, we can 'Keep it Rhyl' and make sure this £20 million regeneration strategy truly reflects the hopes and dreams of the people who live and work here." The £20 million investment comes from the UK Government's Plan for Neighbourhoods programme. The Rhyl Neighbourhood Board will develop a 10-year vision and an initial investment plan to identify and prioritise projects. READ MORE: Abergele: Housing company to pay more than £11,000 following flat issues Prestatyn social club set to cease trading with site on the market The Plan for Neighbourhoods aims to revitalise communities and address deprivation by focusing on three priorities: thriving places, stronger communities, and giving people more control over their local areas. For more information on Ein Rhyl/Our Rhyl visit (Welsh). Or (English) and follow @einrhyl and @ourrhyl on Instagram, LinkedIn and TikTok.

The National
an hour ago
- The National
It's time we tried to rebuild the ambition of Scottish Modernism
There's much to say about the Serbian fabrics master. In his 60s and 70s heyday, Klein sent multi-coloured tweeds from the Borders to the world's leading fashion houses. The building just saved was Klein's collaboration with the leading modernist architect (and fellow Borderer) Peter Womersley, who also built Klein's family home close by. I want to begin in a visceral way, triggered by the current photos of the 1971 studio in this week's press reports. It's essentially intact as an elegant, angular structure – but how neglected as a sight. READ MORE: Scottish crew 'excluded from Spider Man 4 filming' Water-damaged, graffiti'd, mossy, glass walls shattered … It's as if the modernism of the place itself had been under attack. Of course, the real reasons are prosaic. Built in Klein's first burst of success, the studio (latterly promoting local textiles) declined as the weaving industry did in the Borders. It's laid derelict for the last 20 years. The site has been secured by a brace of august institutions: National Trust for Scotland, Scottish Historic Buildings Trust and the Klein Family Foundation, with the National Lottery Heritage Fund indicating it will fund and support. Does the Klein studio mean we are finally deciding to treasure and preserve our Modernist past in Scotland? Has our mood shifted on this? Because up till recently, it has mostly seemed vengeful and neglectful. I'm a fan, though maybe inescapably so. As I revelled in the grid windows and load-bearing columns of these Klein-Womersley buildings, a long-buried memory came to mind. My comprehensive school, St Ambrose RC Secondary, built in 1961. My feelings about my experiences there ('76-'81) would honestly be both treasurable and vengeful. But to adapt Le Corbusier's phrase, architecturally it was indeed a 'machine for learning'. Photos on the web show angular glass corridors bearing shuffling teenagers from block to block. A Guernica-scale metal sculpture, composed of forces and objects, sets you up for the tender mercies of the tech studies building. In retrospect, I was ripened (and toughened) in the grids of High Modernism. Right across from our Victorian family home, surmounting the West End park, two 14-storey high-rises loomed. All manner of teen troubles tumbled out of them, for me. So believe me, I can understand the ambivalence about reviving Modernist ruins. Yet still, there's something about their confidence and optimism that remains compelling. Particularly from our current era's standpoint, where hope for the future feels more fractured and tentative than ever. On a recent music-biz photo session, we sought out Modernist – indeed, brutalist – scenes and textures, across the expanses of Glasgow. It was a thrilling brief. We found ourselves glorying in the rough-casting of overbearing concrete structures, loving the infinities implied by paving stones and steps. Given the next Hue And Cry album is 'electro', in the broadest sense, it felt that a celebration of big, confident engineering was a good backdrop. Yet big, confident engineering often sits at an angle to the hearts and minds of residents and users. The Modernist 'megastructure' (as the architects put it) that made up the bulk of Cumbernauld town centre was guided by cutting-edge theory at the time. Flows made up of humans, shops, transport and meeting places were elaborately modelled; the whole place was designed so that structures could amend and adapt themselves. It had the spirit of utopia about it. But the ambivalence about the current demolitions of Cumbernauld's megastructures is manifest. The 2024 book Concrete Dreams: The Rise And Fall Of Cumbernauld Town Centre talked to many locals. 'They had used [the city centre], they were fond of it, they had lovely stories attached to it and they understood the kind of utopian idea of it and why it was being built', said co-author Alison Irvine. 'But yet they still want to get rid of it as well.' In Glasgow, the blind spots of 20th-century post-war Modernist planners – most obviously their slavish devotion to car use, and to towerblocks replacing tenemental living – is evident to the everyday citizen of the city. There seems to still be 'future ambition' (in council plans) to roof over the M8 at Charing Cross and make a park out of it. But the smashing of social bonds and continuities can barely be pasted over. Maybe, to return to the Bernat Klein buildings in Galashiels, we need to make the modernist case at the level of domesticity, community and creativity. Glasgow School of Art's Bruce Peter is the author of the forthcoming volume Modernist Scotland (the book is currently close to its crowdfunding deadline). Peter lays out 150 post-war buildings, built from 1950-1980, making a case for their preservation (where they still exist). What a tour he provides! There are small-scale sci-fi extravaganzas I'd never heard of. Like the Dollan Baths in East Kilbride. Or Womersley's miraculously balancing triangular stand for Gala Fairydean FC. Or Aberdeen University's tomorrowlandish engineering building. There seem to be many poignant Modernist churches, tucked away in Scottish locales. Poignant, as they were built in an age of secular dominance – though nowadays they look like exactly the kinds of luminous spaces we need (religious or not) to get our heads together. Go visit St Columba's Parish Church in Glenrothes, or St Francis Xavier's in Falkirk, or St Charles Oratory in Glasgow's Kelvinside. We should still attend to the parlous decay of St Peter's Seminary in Cardross, whose demolition would be such a loss to this tradition. The tumult of Modernist style in Peter's book makes you reassess buildings you'd taken for granted. Like the sandstone consistency of the 70s extension to the old Mitchell Library in Glasgow, whose solidity and reliability I've leant on for many decades. (Its interiors are well described as 'resembling a luxury hotel in Moscow'). Or even my home town's Monklands Leisure Centre, which I can now see as a brutalist masterpiece of swooping and corrugated concrete (as opposed to somewhere I could grab a ping-pong table). There are many more exquisite examples of the Scottish Modernist tradition in this book. Peter ends with a plea against the 'eyesore' charge often made against modern-era buildings. 'It is apparent that many people are unable to distinguish between superficial decay spoiling the appearance of a building and the potential of its underlying architecture', he writes. 'When buildings of any kind are neglected or derelict, it is necessary to make leaps of imagination to envision how splendid they could look if sympathetically renovated.' Exactly this case seems easily made for the Bernat Klein studio. What awaits it, according to the renovation team, is an archive of Klein's most notable fabrics, alongside education programs. Klein used tweed techniques from the Borders area but crammed multicolours into the threads, taken from the colourations of the Borders. And his clients: Coco Chanel, Christian Dior, Balenciaga, Pierre Cardin, Yves Saint Laurent … Oh, to be so blithely adorned in dreams. (Although the nightmares of the Cold War, and the Holocaust, of course subtended every escapism.) We should try to recover at least the optimism and ambition of Scottish Modernism – if we can keep its buildings and methods relevant to our current scale and agenda: community-centred, planet-challenged. A possible goal for Klein's soon-to-be ex-ruin. The crowdfunder for Bruce Peter's Modernist Scotland is still running at