The Botanical Silk Experiment
How we're wearing naturally dyed silk in late spring.
Apparently you can steam flowers, leaves, and onion skins directly into silk and end up with something infinitely more beautiful than anything produced by a Pantone swatch. For our soon-to-launch Summer ’26 ‘Monteverde’ collection, we collaborated with textile artist Christiana Vardakou, who created a signature naturally dyed silk for us using un-dyed silk from Soufli, in Northern Greece, bundle-dyed with onion skins, elderberries, and walnut leaves. The steaming process leaves behind imperfect botanical traces that make every piece slightly different — somewhere between oxidized metal, dried moss, and antique gold.
We’ve been calling the shade lichen gold because it behaves exactly the way lichen does: adaptable, atmospheric, capable of belonging almost anywhere. Which is also how we’ve been wearing it, from morning errands to evenings that accidentally end at 2 a.m.
*For this edit, we styled the Kinkajú playsuit and the Momoto dress, though more naturally dyed silk pieces are on the way.
Alexandra's
Silk, I’ve realized, is at its best when it’s not trying to perform as Silk™. Not lacquered, not precious. It wants company from fabrics that move the same way it does, like viscose, tencel, washed cotton, or, even better, silk on silk. Anything with a little slouch and liquidity. Together they create that tiny, invisible pocket of air between body and clothing that feels essential on certain days.
I’ve become particularly devoted to the equation of long sleeves + mini hem in warm weather. An ecru silk-viscose shirt knotted over the “Momoto” mini dress creates exactly that kind of ease. The silhouette fractures into what looks like two separate pieces, while carving shape back into all that fluidity. It cinches without gripping and allows the naturally dyed marbled silk underneath to peek through exactly where it should, like the punchline of the outfit. Boat shoes, beige socks, and a cap keep it from feeling too precious.
Continuing the silk-on-silk agenda, the “Momoto” mini dress becomes a tank top here simply by being tucked into a pair of high-waisted silk trousers, proof that sometimes styling is really just strategic confusion. The lichen-gold shade against tobacco and chocolate brown creates the palette that feels best in the first half of the day: earthy and oxidized. Like Vanilla Coke in a hotel lobby that still smells faintly of sunscreen from the 1970s.
The essentials remain non-negotiable: boat shoes, square sunglasses, and a blazer in matching tones thrown over the shoulders with absolutely no practical justification.
Summer layering is complicated because the weather insists on realism while fashion absolutely does not. The only real loophole, I’ve found, is transparencies. A sheer sleeveless blouse underneath the ‘Kinkajú’ playsuit creates just enough visual interference. The tiny glimpses of black silk through the V-neckline, echoed again in the sheer socks, turn the whole thing slightly nocturnal without requiring an actual jacket commitment, though naturally I added the brocade blazer anyway.
There is something very satisfying to me about combining organically dyed silk with things that feel faintly corporate goth: padded shoulders, patent Mary Janes, black and sharp enough sunglasses.
Valisia’s
This is a very casual summer outfit for me, but naturally there’s a twist because we have print involved. A mini dress - always. Not just to show the legs, although denying them would be rude, but because in summer the looser and freer the outfit feels, the better. Which is also why, for once, I skipped the belt, even though cinching my waist is usually part of my personality.
I paired the “Momoto” dress with a simple black T-shirt underneath because black needs to appear somewhere. And then a pair of sheer knee-high socks for a slightly “Clueless” atmosphere, as if Cher Horowitz spent one emotionally confusing summer in Athens and developed a taste for humidity and existential dread.
I’m keeping the same cool, effortless atmosphere here, but obviously with a twist because “simple” has never really been part of my emotional vocabulary. I always need something slightly off, slightly extra, slightly as if the outfit has a backstory.
This time I’m wearing the mini “Momoto” dress as a tank top, paired with my father’s old Nautica trousers, which are dramatically bigger than my actual size - exactly the point. I love the attitude of oversized trousers in the summer. They create that perfect “I just threw this on” illusion that actually requires very specific instincts. Which means the belt becomes essential here. Otherwise we risk entering accidental fisherman territory.
And of course I had to bring in a hat. Not just any hat, but this “Blanc” sculptural straw hat I’m obsessed with and almost never wear because the natural shade usually annoys me. Too sensible. Too earthy. But with these washed neutrals and the black accessories, suddenly it makes sense.
This look… I’m sorry, but even I can’t fully explain it. Which usually means it’s working. At least for me!
We have the very playful “Kinkajú” playsuit that could have easily gone into “cute summer outfit” territory, which of course meant I had to sabotage it slightly. I wanted eccentricity. Confusion.
So in comes the old upcycled Columbia flap hat, which exists somewhere between a hat, a scarf, and survival gear for an extremely chic apocalypse. I’m obsessed with how strange it makes everything feel. Suddenly the outfit has narrative.
Underneath, I added cycling shorts because I wanted that slightly unhinged “let’s dance for six hours” energy. And then, naturally, a turtleneck underneath the playsuit because I needed the silhouette to feel sharper, more athletic, slightly dystopian. Athleisure has become my latest obsession, but obviously I cannot approach it in a normal way. I don’t want to look like I came from pilates. I want to look like I came from a New Beat festival in Belgium in 1987.
Stella’s
I love suits, even during spring and summer. But I’ve found that, in order for them to work and not feel or look out of place, their materiality needs to change. So it’s silk instead of wool. It’s also (bermuda) shorts instead of full-length tailored trousers, and, most importantly, relaxed dresses instead of tucked-in shirts. Christiana Vardakou’s beautiful natural dye is surprisingly versatile. It works with every colour I’ve paired it with, but it complements browns the most. It highlights the other shades while simultaneously remaining the subtle protagonist.
Ok, another suit, but this time a skirt suit. As I said above, browns really make this hand-dye pop. I love espresso/macchiato/milk chocolate (you name it!) tones the most. Here I’m using a trick I used to live for 20 years ago: wearing a skirt over a slightly longer dress, because layering was my life. I discovered I still love it. It’s just an extra sliver of fabric, but it creates continuity and adds a playful element to an outfit. Heels of any height are my go-to with a skirt suit, and with any suit, to be honest. There’s something about the combination of a pointed toe, wide-leg trousers , and an oversized jacket.
My spring ‘throw on and go out’ look. My first priority when temperatures start to rise is always comfort. The Kinkajú playsuit is airy enough to feel like you have nothing on, but the layered sleeves give it substance as well.
The (macchiato) bike shorts are here because it’s not summer yet, so you still need an extra layer of fabric, even in the morning. My trusty spring shoe, the velvet Fruilane slippers, is, yes, very comfortable (they are slippers after all) but their colour is also this perfect dark greenish hue with a golden tint (hence the name “Bottiglia”) that sets itself apart from the browns while somehow being the perfect match for them.
Bisous bisous
Alexandra + Valisia + Stella