FKA Twigs appeared on the cover of ELLE UK’s February 2026 issue, styled in a floral headpiece and sheer white ensemble.
FKA Twigs on the cover. Orchids crown her head, white petals with pink centers, arm raised, sheer fabric catching light. Skirt textured, ruffled, heavy but soft. Background gray, neutral, almost blank.
It’s blunt. Headpiece floral, outfit layered, pose deliberate. Together, they carry presence. A look that feels like ritual stitched with fashion.
There’s honesty here. Clothes chosen for contrast, for softness, for edge. A frame caught between natural bloom and editorial restraint.
And beneath the styling, a deeper thread. Twigs speaks of Euseuxia , her invented word for moments of pure focus — nothingness before climax, the flow of dance, the clarity of presence. Two albums in 2025, Euseuxia and Euseuxia Afterglow , stitched into an era of healing and resistance to fragmentation. She insists her work is the most interesting part of her, not the persona. A philosophy of reinvention, of living for the moment, of daring in art more than in image.
Not just a magazine cover. More like a pause in orchids — fabric against gray, words against silence, presence against reinvention.
Sophie Marceau appeared on the cover of Marie Claire France’s February 2026 issue, styled in faux fur and denim.
Sophie Marceau against a red wall. Faux fur brown, soft, draped over denim. Jeans faded, top grey, nothing loud. Just texture, weight, and a quiet kind of presence.
Pose simple. Standing, no drama. Hair loose, gaze steady. A look that feels like winter, but not cold.
It’s blunt. Coat plush, jeans grounded, backdrop saturated. Together, they carry ease. A look that feels like someone who’s done this before, and doesn’t need to prove it.
And beneath the styling, a voice. Marceau speaks of instinct — not strategy, not calculation. Her career built on refusals, on walking away from roles that felt wrong, from scripts that sexualized or flattened. She recalls the chaos of early fame, the pressure to conform, the need to protect herself. She talks about motherhood, autonomy, and the emotional weight of playing women who feel deeply. Even in comedy, she insists, emotion leaks through.
She’s not nostalgic. She’s not bitter. But she’s blunt about the industry — the objectification, the early battles, the need to say no. Her words cut through the fluff. “I just want everything to be about my work,” she says. “The most interesting part of me is what I do. It’s not who I am.”
Not just a cover shoot. More like a pause in fur — denim against red, instinct against expectation, presence against noise.
Mia Threapleton posed for The New York Times in May 2025, wearing a gray blazer with long wavy hair.
Mia Threapleton standing on a couch. Gray blazer structured, trousers dark, hair long, wavy, falling loose.
Wall behind textured red, couch gray with piping, light warm, soft. Atmosphere intimate, almost quiet.
Pose casual. Feet on cushions, stance relaxed, body angled. Not polished, more spontaneous, like a pause mid-thought.
