Everyone's out here sweating through linen pretending it's fine. Meanwhile the swimsuit was engineered to survive worse than a city summer. So we let it. It gives you sportswear ease without the sportswear look, handles the heat, and stays perfectly composed doing it — layers under anything from tailoring to silk skirts, and never once looks like it's working this hard. Here's how we dressed it up and sent it out and downtown.
Stella’s
Judging by the three photos I selected, you can probably tell this was my favourite outfit. Why? Simple.
First, I’m draped in silk, yet I still wandered around town in it during the early afternoon.
Second, I’m wearing a swimsuit, but no one would ever guess, in a good way. It’s the perfect underlayer for sheer clothing because if anyone dares to question the opacity of my outfit, I can simply reply, “What? I’m wearing a swimsuit underneath.”
Thanks to the Colibrí’s straps, it also creates an interesting detail at the back without me even having to take off my jacket.
Although I’m wearing sheer silk from head to toe (as we established), I feel completely relaxed rather than overdressed. That’s because the silhouette is flowy and breezy, with just enough structure to accentuate the waist through a satin waistband, my favourite detail of “The Intruder” skirt.
My goal with these outfits wasn’t to create looks that belonged more on the beach than in the city. I wanted my swimsuits to become integral parts of my everyday wardrobe. And what says “city” better than a suit? In this case, an Irish linen one.
Why do I mention its nationality? Because I’ve never come across linen quite like it. It’s as if linen and silk had a child. It’s lustrous, it has a beautiful sheen, it’s incredibly soft and, unlike most linen, it holds its shape.
The last thing I wanted was for the addition of a swimsuit (instead of a top) to accidentally make the outfit feel too casual. The Tepezcuintle swimsuit, in particular, makes that easy. I love its contrasting white piping; I think it's très chic. That's why I paired it with my grandmother's pearls and a silk scarf. Yet, because it's a swimsuit rather than a shirt or blouse, the overall look never feels stuffy but fresh, if I may say so myself.
The no-brainer: a one-piece swimsuit worn as a bodysuit. But once again, what makes the difference are the Colibrí's spaghetti straps. The only thing that "gives it away" is the fabric, but first, someone would have to be standing incredibly close to notice, and second, what could be better in that heat? You could even splash some water on yourself and be perfectly comfortable.
Pairing it with the Romero skirt is a classic combination for me, I’ve worn it out in the wild several times. I simply swap the swimsuits.
I could replace my column skirt with almost anything, from denim (far too hot for me) to shorts (a little too “not-city”). But, as Valisia says, we go for something Doric.
Alexandra’s
A swimsuit and its matching cover-up might just be the first monochromatic outfit most of us ever wear. This edit simply asks: what happens when that same formula leaves the shoreline?
The premise here is to relocate that instinct without changing its DNA. Keep the colour story intact, but swap beach textures for city ones. Corduroy instead of terry. Suede instead of raffia. A heel where there might otherwise be a flip-flop. The swimsuit doesn’t become less of a swimsuit; the surrounding pieces shift its perspective.
This one happens to be entirely green, somewhere between a saltwater crocodile and a parrot. The 2WO+1NE=2 ‘Mono Congo’ one-piece finds its ecological match in deep-green Lacoste corduroy shorts. Neither piece is trying especially hard and that’s the point.
The California cap stays on to preserve a little beach optimism. Consider it the outfit's reminder of where this idea began.
You can read about my latest Californian adventures here:
For me, a contrasting trim tells you where the garment starts and stops, and, more usefully, it gives you two colours to work with (in terms of styling) instead of one. You can match the base, match the trim, or match both against something else entirely. The options multiply from there.
The 2WO+1NE=2 Tepezcuintle one-piece works exactly like this: a chestnut body (on one side), with white trim tracing the tie-up straps and neckline like a diagram. I decided to extend this visual language by adding more geometric elements to the composition, layering the already-layered Bermuda shorts—panelled, part pinstripe and part navy, stitched together with visible white thread—because they repeat the logic of the swimsuit on a larger scale. It is the same approach of combining trim and base, translated from piping into fabric.
The navy bandana pulls the deepest colour in the shorts up to the head, closing the loop. Heeled sandals do the rest, the one variable that moves this from a beach-adjacent afternoon into something you’d wear out after dark.
A fabric with a sheen and swimwear sounds like an unlikely pairing until you actually try it, and then it makes an almost embarrassing amount of sense. The move: take a co-ord (preferably involving a shirt with buttons) and swap the top for a bikini underneath, worn as a top, not hidden as one.
What makes it work is the friction: a fabric which is as polished as it gets, worn with swimwear, which is not polished at all — and the swimwear wins, in the sense that it's the thing that keeps the look from feeling too finished. It grounds it. Makes it summer instead of just expensive.
Colour-coordinated, obviously, in terracotta, the one shade that makes you look tanned even when you've done absolutely nothing to earn it.
Valisia’s
I love, love, love bodysuits and leotards. Honestly, I wear them all year round. You’ll spot me in one while running errands, at the gym, on stage... pretty much anywhere except perhaps a black-tie wedding (although, never say never). Even better when they come with a double life. A swimsuit that happily leaves the beach behind and blends into everyday dressing? Now we’re talking.
This first look is quintessential summer me: a mix of long-term romances and fresh infatuations.
As you probably gathered from my opening declaration of love, the Colibrí swimsuit is the star of the show. Black, minimalist, with a dramatic low-cut back framed by delicate spaghetti straps that create the loveliest graphic lines. It’s the kind of piece that works just as well with saltwater as it does with a cold ice tea in the city. Then come the cowboy boots. Another forever favourite. Yes, I know they’re hardly the obvious choice for July. But they are the obvious choice for this outfit. And frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.
My newest obsession? Activewear clothing. Chic, practical and effortless, they’ve become my answer to every “I have nothing to wear” crisis. They have that magical quality of looking intentional while demanding almost nothing from you. We love a low-maintenance diva.
To finish it all off, a baseball cap. But plain was never really on the agenda. I incorporated one of my mother’s vintage chains on top of it, because accessories should never settle for simply doing their job. They should have a main-character energy too.
Yes, I know. I am revisiting the same philosophy. But when you find a formula that survives a Greek summer without sacrificing personality, you stick with it. This version, however, flirts with a much girlier mood. Somewhere between the tennis court and Sailor Moon.
Meet the Tepezcuintle swimsuit. It’s undeniably revealing, but never veers into trying too hard. The open back, the subtle hint of side boob and those elegant bows strike that delicate balance between sensual and sophisticated. It’s proof that showing skin and looking refined are perfectly capable of coexisting.
Naturally, my activewear fixation continues. This time with a white pleated tennis skirt, arguably the queen of sporty femininity. Crisp, playful and impossible not to twirl in at least once.
My mother’s woven hat also makes an appearance because, quite simply, the sun is intolerable. Extra tip: wear sunscreen. Looking fabulous is wonderful. Looking fabulous without sun damage is even better.
And finally... let’s address the elephant at my feet. If you’ve followed us for a while, you’ll know this is practically a plot twist. Summer shoes and I have maintained a long-distance relationship for ever. But these mules, with their exaggerated square toe and angular sole, swept me off my feet immediately. Not exactly your typical summer show, but absolutely ideal for me!
Simplicity at its simplest. (For me)
Let’s face it, during a Greek summer, most of us would happily roam the streets naked if society allowed it. Since that’s generally frowned upon, we settle for the next best thing: the lightest pieces in our wardrobe.
Enter the iconic ‘90s slip dress. This is an actual vintage silk slip that belonged to my older sister, making it even more special. The only catch? It’s rather sheer. Which brings us, once again, to the wonderful world of strategic nudity. Underneath, I layered the black bikini top from the Marrakesh collection. Its Moroccan-inspired neckline adds structure to the otherwise minimal silhouette and turns what could have been just another slip dress into something far more interesting.
The cowboy boots make a well-deserved comeback because I simply can’t resist the tension between delicate and rugged. Silk and leather. Soft and tough. Now imagine this look with a pair of cute kitten heels. Jesus. I think my stomach just protested. (For me, again)
And then, I topped everything off with a woven beret to give the outfit a little more personality.
Almost naked. Plenty of attitude.
Bisous bisous
Stella + Alexandra + Valisia