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It’s Time for a Fashion Revolution

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It’s Time for a Fashion Revolution

This year will be a year of seismic change in fashion. That much is a given.

Or actually, it is a given that this will be a year of seismic change in fashion personnel. Starting this month, new designers at eight global brands, including Calvin Klein and Chanel, will be making their runway debuts. As they will at Bottega Veneta, Lanvin, Givenchy, Tom Ford, Alberta Ferretti and Dries Van Noten — with the possibility of more open spots being filled at Fendi, Maison Margiela, Helmut Lang and Carven in the coming months.

Sheesh! Whether that power shift will translate into seismic change in what we wear is a different question.

There has been much speculation as to the source of the turmoil. Much blame has focused on a slowdown in luxury spending (especially in China), as well as global political and economic uncertainty, which has led to a game of Blame the Designer (when in doubt, blame the designer), which led to Change the Designer.

There is a tendency, in such an environment, to play it safe. To fall back into the comfort of a camel coat and assume that what sold well in the past will sell well in the future. To focus on the commercial over the creative.

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This would be a mistake.

It is time for a fashion revolution. The kind of revolution that Coco Chanel created in the 1920s, when she transformed the little black dress, uniform of the serving class, into a status symbol of liberation, apparently causing Paul Poiret to clutch his breast in horror and declare: “What has Chanel invented? Deluxe poverty.” Her clients resembled “little undernourished telegraph clerks,” he sneered.

The kind of revolution that Christian Dior wrought in the postwar era, when he scandalized the world with the New Look, in all its lavishly skirted, wasp-waist glory, inciting riots in the streets against the sheer excess of material. The kind that Yves Saint Laurent ignited during the upheavals of the 1960s, when he adapted the male tuxedo for women, causing Nan Kempner to be cast out of La Côte Basque for the crime of wearing pants.

And the kind that Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons created when she treated darkness and destruction like precious skins as the Cold War collapsed and Francis Fukuyama declared the end of history. Ms. Kawakubo was castigated for promoting “Hiroshima chic,” even as her embrace of the flawed forever shifted ideas about beauty and the body.

Just as, when the millennium turned, Thom Browne was widely mocked for putting grown-up men in short pants (or just plain old shorts) and shrunken jackets. Until those shrink-wrapped gray suits changed not just proportions, but the very meaning of “uniform.”

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Such designs horrified and thrilled in equal measure, but they also rose to the challenge of a changed world and a changing sense of how people dressed — not just at the moment they appeared, but forever after.

Fashion is essentially a story of what the paleontologists Stephen Jay Gould and Niles Eldredge called “punctuated equilibrium,” a theory positing that significant change comes in spurts that interrupt lengthy periods of stability or slow evolution. It’s how we got L.B.D.s, the New Look, pants, the possibilities of destruction.

Out of chaos came creativity. That’s where we are now: at a mass inflection point when the world order is in flux, social mores are shifting, the A.I. era is dawning and it’s not clear how everything will be resolved. The first quarter of the 21st century, with the ascent of streetwear and athleisure, is over. There is a hunger for the defining next.

Hence the outsize reaction to the Maison Margiela couture show last January, when John Galliano, then the house’s designer, offered up a phantasmagorical underworld full of exploding flesh and extraordinary tailoring that was so unlike the current made-for-the-’gram runway that it provoked fits of foot-stomping ecstasy in its audience.

Those clothes were not actually new; they were newly dramatized versions of work Mr. Galliano had done before — throwbacks, with their extreme corsetry and theatricality, to late-20th-century fashion fabulousness. It was the applause more than the actual silhouettes (which haven’t remotely filtered out into the general population) that was telling: the clearly voracious appetite for something that didn’t look or feel like all the things that had come before.

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It was a sign, if any were needed, that the door is wide-open for someone to stop reinventing history and start inventing; to create the thing we didn’t know we wanted, the thing that is impossible to predict, because, by definition, if you can predict it, it isn’t a surprise.

There are designers who are clearly trying: Demna, with his inversion of luxury semiotics at Balenciaga; Jonathan Anderson, with his surreal craftiness at Loewe. These are designers who twist not just items but proportions. Some of their work has jarred the status quo and produced moments of viral indignation (especially Demna, with his haute Ikea bags and eroded sneakers), but as yet, neither has produced a paradigm shift. Wouldn’t that be something to see?

Here’s hoping the new crop tries, that new names and new brains actually make some new clothes, even if at old houses. Thanks to our wildly connected world, the possibilities for one crazy idea of what it means to look modern, to alter the mass sense of self, are almost limitless.

Here’s hoping they seize the moment not to dutifully respect the so-called codes of the house — enough with the codes of the house — but to embrace the abstract ethos of their brands, not the literal shapes from the archives. Not to merely tweak the mold, but to break it and reinvent it. If outrage is the result that’s not necessarily a bad thing, because it’s often an outrage when you see something that challenges your ideas of proper dress.

But it’s an outrage with a purpose. And if there is another lesson that history offers, it is that such outrage eventually pays off.

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Until then, it takes courage for executives and backers to withstand the initial backlash and opprobrium; it takes time for the eye, and wardrobe, to adjust. The problem is that time and forbearance are luxuries rarely offered to designers today. If they are to rise to the occasion, if they are to do the unexpected, they must be granted the space and support to do it.

So c’mon, fashion. Surprise us. Enchant us. Shock us. I dare you.

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In case 2025 wasn’t scary enough, it was a great year for horror, too

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In case 2025 wasn’t scary enough, it was a great year for horror, too

Cary Christopher in Weapons.

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2025 has been a ghoulish year for horror, and you can catch all of it this weekend: Doggie dread, a vampiric Oscar contender, thrillers zombified, supernatural, and nuclear.

No tricks, just treats.

Weapons 

Available to stream on HBO Max and rent on demand. 

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Weapons begins with something that seems impossible: One night, in the suburb of Maybrook, every student (save one) from Justine Gandy’s third-grade classroom gets up at 2:17 a.m., goes downstairs, walks out of the house, and silently runs off into the night. They are gone, 17 of them. They are caught on doorbell cameras or security cameras, disappearing into the woods or just into the darkness. Suspicion falls on Justine (Julia Garner), for the simple reason that nobody can figure out how these kids could disappear unless something was happening in that classroom, on her watch. In large part, not unlike HBO’s 2014 series The Leftovers and the novel that inspired it, Weapons is a story about a community recovering from an inexplicable trauma that arrives like a natural disaster, wreaks havoc, and then cannot be reversed, only survived. But there is another thing, another Whole Thing going on in this story, which I would not spoil for anything, because it is simply too wonderfully scary and strange. – Linda Holmes

Read the full review here. 

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Good Boy 

In limited theaters; available to rent on demand. 

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No harm befalls the deeply sympathetic canine protagonist of Good Boy, a low-budget horror film based on those eerie moments when pets seem to have a heightened sense of a presence humans can’t detect. The dog in question, named Indy, is the director’s dog in real life, and we experience the events of the film through his soulful eyes. The film features indie horror auteur Larry Fessenden in a surprise supporting role, and in some ways, it belongs to his lineage of scary movies that explore humanity’s rapacious relationship with nature. While some horror fans have expressed disappointment over Good Boy’s deliberate pace and absence of jump scares, critics have celebrated the film’s emotional, innovative storytelling from the point of view of a very good boy. — Neda Ulaby 

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Sinners 

Available to stream on HBO Max and rent on demand. 

This trailer includes an instance of vulgar language. 

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It’s 1932 in Clarksdale, Miss., and enterprising twin brothers Smoke and Stack, both played by Coogler’s longtime muse Michael B. Jordan, have returned to town after some years away in Chicago. What the siblings got into while up North in all likelihood wasn’t on the up-and-up; think robbing, stealing, and doing business with Irish and Italian gangsters. But now back home, they’re flush with cash and booze and eager to set up a new venture: a juke joint. It’s possible you’re aware that Sinners involves vampires, and it does. In a straightforward metaphor for all the ways Black culture has been co-opted by whiteness, the raucous pleasures and sonic beauty of the juke joint attract the interest of a trio of demons led by Remmick (Jack O’Connell); they wish to literally leech off of the talents and energy of Black folks. And — this is not a spoiler — some of those Black people make it pretty easy for Remmick and his ilk to taste blood. – Aisha Harris 

Read the full review here. 

28 Years Later 

Available to stream on Netflix and rent on demand. 

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The apocalyptic horror film 28 Years Later takes place in the same world as the 2002 film 28 Days Later, where a deadly virus transformed the citizens of England into rabid, blood-spewing creatures with really impressive lung capacity. Seriously, those zombies were just as good at wind sprints as they were at cross-country. This year’s film picks up almost three decades later on a small island connected to the mainland by a causeway, where a group of survivors eke out a modest existence. A desperate expedition to the mainland reveals new allies and new horrors — because the infected have evolved. — Glen Weldon

Listen to the Pop Culture Happy Hour panel discuss the movie.

Presence

Available to stream on Hulu and rent on demand. 

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The haunted-house thriller Presence has a formal conceit so clever, I’m surprised it hasn’t ever been done or attempted before. Maybe another movie has done it that I’m not aware of. This is a ghost story told entirely from the ghost’s point of view: We see what the ghost sees.

The ghost cannot leave the house, and so the movie never leaves the house, either. You could say that the ghost is played by the director, Steven Soderbergh, who serves as his own cinematographer, as usual, working under the pseudonym of Peter Andrews. That’s Soderbergh holding the camera as it glides up and down the stairs, following the characters from room to room, and hovering over them as they try to figure out what’s going on.

Soderbergh’s camera movements are so delicate and expressive, he can convey empathy with a mere twitch or shudder, or rage with a sudden, violent lurch. Before long, we realize that the ghost isn’t trying to scare this family; it’s trying to warn them. — Justin Chang

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Read the full review here.

Frankenstein 

In theaters; on Netflix Nov. 7. 

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Guillermo del Toro has made several monster movies of a particular bent — soulful, swoony, feverish films about grotesque-looking creatures who prove themselves more deeply human than the humans who reject them. Which is why Frankenstein seems like the perfect match between story and muse; certainly del Toro’s been talking about making his own version of the tale for decades, calling it his “lifelong dream.” That dream is now realized, and while the resulting film captures the tone and spirit of the original novel in all its breathless zeal and hie-me-to-yon-fainting-couch deliriousness, the many narrative tweaks del Toro has made — some of which work, some of which don’t — ensure that you’d never mistake his Frankenstein for anyone else’s. – Glen Weldon

Read the full review here. 

A House of Dynamite 

Available in limited theaters and streaming on Netflix. 

This trailer includes instances of vulgar language. 

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An entirely plausible nuclear horror story from the Oscar-winning director of The Hurt Locker, this nerve-jangling thriller begins with a ballistic missile headed toward the continental U.S. Origin unknown, but consequences cataclysmic, the missile plays into doomsday fears so primal, most of us bury them. Nuclear war is unthinkable, we tell ourselves, because mutually assured destruction means no government would ever start one. But suppose, as director Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter Noah Oppenheim have, that a seemingly rogue threat can’t quickly be traced, that a missile will strike a major American city in just 19 minutes, and that fallible, increasingly frantic civilian and military leaders haven’t a clue how to finesse the possible obliteration of humankind. This explosive scenario, played for farce in Dr. Strangelove, leads here into white knuckle territory. – Bob Mondello 

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Nigerian Nobel winner Wole Soyinka says U.S. revoked his visa after Trump criticism

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Nigerian Nobel winner Wole Soyinka says U.S. revoked his visa after Trump criticism

Nobel Prize laureate Wole Soyinka speaks to The Associated Press during an interview at freedom park in Lagos, Nigeria, in 2021.

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Nobel Prize-winning author Wole Soyinka said on Tuesday that his non-resident visa to enter the United States had been rejected, adding that he believes it may be because he recently criticized President Donald Trump.

The Nigerian author, 91, won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1986, becoming the first African to do so.

Speaking to the press on Tuesday, Soyinka said he believed it had little to do with him and was instead a product of the United States’ immigration policies. He said he was told to reapply if he wished to enter again.

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“It’s not about me, I’m not really interested in going back to the United States,” he said. “But a principle is involved. Human beings deserve to be treated decently wherever they are.”

Soyinka, who has taught in the U.S. and previously held a green card, joked on Tuesday that his green card “had an accident” eight years ago and “fell between a pair of scissors.” In 2017, he destroyed his green card in protest over Trump’s first inauguration.

The letter he received informing him of his visa revocation cites “additional information became available after the visa was issued,” as the reason for its revocation, but does not describe what that information was.

Soyinka believes it may be because he recently referred to Trump as a “white version of Idi Amin,” a reference to the dictator who ruled Uganda from 1971 until 1979.

He jokingly referred to his rejection as a “love letter” and said that while he did not blame the officials, he would not be applying for another visa.

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“I have no visa. I am banned, obviously, from the United States, and if you want to see me, you know where to find me.”

The U.S. Consulate in Nigeria’s commercial hub, Lagos, directed all questions to the State Department in Washington, D.C. Through a spokesperson, it said that because under US law visa records are generally confidential, they would not discuss the specifics of this case while stressing that “visas are a privilege, not a right” and that “visas may be revoked at any time, at the discretion of the U.S. government, whenever circumstances warrant.”

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