Brooks Nader dialed up the off-duty allure—think newsstand nostalgia meets downtown polish—at Glance’s Fashion Week Pop-Up, proving that minimalism still has bite.
There’s something deliciously meta about a fashion week event staged at a faux newsstand—especially when Brooks Nader is the one commanding the frame. At Glance’s Fashion Week Pop-Up in New York City, the model and media darling turned a casual sidewalk tableau into a masterclass in elevated streetwear. No theatrics, no over-styled chaos—just a clean, confident look that whispered rather than screamed.
Nader’s black cropped top, buttoned and long-sleeved, struck a balance between structure and ease. The fabric—likely a soft ribbed knit—hugged her frame with quiet precision, while the high-waisted blue jeans offered a classic American silhouette, subtly nodding to 90s Calvin Klein minimalism. The pointed-toe black heels added a sharp punctuation mark to the ensemble, elongating the leg and anchoring the look in urban sophistication. It’s the kind of outfit that doesn’t beg for attention—it earns it.
No bag, no jewelry—just a pair of oversized sunglasses that felt more editorial than errand-run. The absence of excess was the point. In a sea of over-accessorized Fashion Week attendees, Nader’s restraint read as intentional, even rebellious. The heels—sleek, no embellishment—played into the same ethos: let the silhouette speak.
Chase Sui Wonders brought a moody twist to party dressing—her floral noir mini was equal parts indie darling and downtown provocateur, lit by violet haze and flashbulbs.
There’s a certain kind of fashion week attendee who doesn’t just wear a look—they haunt it. Chase Sui Wonders, ever the cinematic chameleon, arrived at W Magazine and Bloomingdale’s New York Fashion Week celebration on September 11 with the kind of presence that makes you pause mid-scroll. No red carpet theatrics, no overworked styling—just a dress that felt like a whispered secret in a room full of shouty trends.
Her short black dress, scattered with delicate white floral motifs, struck a balance between romantic and nocturnal. The fabric appeared lightweight, with a subtle sheen that caught the purple party lighting like moonlight on ink. The silhouette was classic mini—fitted bodice, gentle flare—but the print gave it a vintage edge, somewhere between 90s Kate Moss and Sofia Coppola’s Virgin Suicides. It wasn’t loud, but it lingered.
Black shoes—simple, unfussy, and perfectly in tune with the dress’s quiet drama—grounded the look. No visible jewelry, no bag, no distractions. The synergy here was restraint: letting the print and cut do the talking while everything else whispered in support. It’s the kind of styling choice that feels deceptively easy but is, in fact, razor-sharp.
This look taps into a broader revival of indie sleaze and post-Y2K minimalism, but with a softer, more introspective twist. It’s not about being seen—it’s about being remembered. Wonders’ dress could’ve walked straight out of a celebrity photos archive from a 2005 Nylon party, yet it felt fresh, relevant, and quietly rebellious.
At the ‘Nouvelle Vague’ photocall, Zoey Deutch delivered a masterclass in architectural elegance—voluminous sleeves, satin trousers, and a dash of Old Hollywood aloofness.
Zoey Deutch knows how to command a room without raising her voice. At the ‘Nouvelle Vague’ photocall during the 51st Deauville American Film Festival in France, she stepped into the frame like a character from a Jacques Demy film—poised, polished, and just a touch mysterious.
Her look? A monochrome study in proportion and restraint. The white blouse, crisp and sculptural, featured voluminous sleeves that ballooned with couture-level drama. It’s the kind of silhouette that recalls the golden age of Yves Saint Laurent—where volume wasn’t excess, but expression. Tucked into black high-waisted satin trousers, the ensemble balanced softness with structure. The pants, wide-legged and fluid, caught the light with a subtle sheen, adding movement to an otherwise composed silhouette.
Accessories were kept minimal, letting the tailoring speak. Black shoes peeked beneath the hem—sleek, unfussy, and grounding. Oversized dark sunglasses added a layer of anonymity, as if Deutch were slipping between roles: actress, muse, mystery.
The setting—a richly carpeted hotel hallway with red ceramic planters and warm wood paneling—only amplified the cinematic mood. Deutch stood tall, hands relaxed, gaze hidden, posture deliberate. It wasn’t just a pose; it was a performance.
