Ross Anderson

Nike — named after the Greek goddess of victory — is seemingly too scared to be associated with US armed forces; or more aptly, too frightened to offend someone. Their famous Military Blue sneakers have been renamed: as the “Industrial Blue” Jordan 4. I was watching Nike’s “Jordan Retro Preview” event on the Nike Sneakers app, tempting my urge to buy yet more sneakers (at more than sixty pairs, I desperately need some more). In most ways, it was like every other Sneakers Live stream. There was good releases (the Jordan 1 “Artisanal Red”), some very bad ones (dear God, the green Jordan 1s) and many, many, many more that I expect to see on clearance shelves across America.

After spending over $10 billion, screwing over corporate partners, hiring and firing talent and a decade of work trying to develop a flagship product for a new, massive market, Apple has killed what could have been its most ambitious product yet: an electric car. The failure of the electric vehicle project singularly reflects the culture and hubris of Apple Its death comes with no announcement, for Apple never officially acknowledged ‘Project Titan’ existed, but Mark Gurman of Bloomberg reported last week that its 2,000-person team had been shifted to other projects. Its demise is surprising because Apple rarely gives up on big projects, and because of just how much time and money had been spent on it.

It was inevitable. Having infected every other part of culture, partisan politics has arrived in the world of sneakerheads.  Last week, Trump announced that he would be at Pennsylvania’s Sneaker Con, to some consternation. “Donald Trump showing up to hawk bootleg Off-Whites is the closest he’ll get to any Air Force Ones ever again for the rest of his life,” snarked Biden campaign spokesman Michael Tyler. So last Saturday, sniffer dogs and Secret Service security were among the hypebeasts, old heads and collectors. To boos and cheers alike, Donald Trump took to the stage, announcing his own sneaker line. He held up his first sneaker to be released, the limited “Never Surrender High Tops.

The view from my top floor room at the Steigenberger Hotel de Saxe looked out at the great dome of the Frauenkirche. It’s a huge Baroque church in the center of Dresden; I first saw the building on foot, when failing to find a local restaurant on my first night there. I turned a corner to see it towering above me. It looks like it’s always been there, but the original was destroyed in 1945, under the infamous British firebombing, and reconstruction only finished in 2005. I was eventually directed to the restaurant, past the Oktoberfest stands that began sprouting up during my visit in late September. However beautiful the town, I was not here for “Florence on the Elbe” and its grand buildings, but for smaller, more delicate wonders from a nearby town. And so, at 8 a.m.

Matthew Williams, the tattooed American fashion designer and creative director at Givenchy, will soon be evicted from the famous house. Givenchy announced on December 1 that Williams would leave his job at the end of the year. Nobody is particularly surprised. His three-year tenure has been controversial and highly disliked by many, and also hasn’t produced any viral products. It was obvious Williams’s publicists knew his time was up too. Late last year, he was profiled by Jessica Testa in the New York Times; an article built around the fact that designer contracts typically only last three years, and that his time at Givenchy wasn't producing hits. Diesel, Vetements, Loewe and Balenciaga have all spun controversy into sales. The best Givenchy achieved was disappointment, if that.

The Cybertruck is here. Finally. Maybe. Sort of. Thursday was the “Cybertruck Delivery Event,” where they finally rolled off the production line and were handed over to waiting customers. Musk served as chaperone, host and speaker, and the event was a hype-fest for fanboys. As the presentation started, it was hard to tell whether some in the crowd were shouting “Elon” or “hallelujah” (I think the latter). He presented a polished marketing video, markedly sparse on specs, but promised that the Cybertruck was one of those rare products that change how we see the world; that it is “more truck than truck,” while also being “a better sports car than a sports car” and the best product Tesla had ever made. It’s not.

It would have happened on a Thursday, as it does every Thursday. Crowds of young men and teen boys would have lined up outside stores around the globe, in hopes of buying the latest drop from Supreme — the pugnacious streetwear brand which rose from New York skater shop to global multibillion-dollar fashion colossus and sold to fashion conglomerate VF Corporation for $2.1 billion in December 2020. Even if you don’t care about skating or streetwear, you would instantly recognize a white T-shirt slapped with their logo; a red box, with “Supreme” in Futura Heavy Oblique font inside. Celebrities love Supreme, the stylish (Hailey Bieber, A$AP Rocky, Kanye West) and the stylish-wannabes (Justin Bieber, Travis Scott, Jaden Smith).

What happens to a fashion brand when the founder leaves? Or, to be more direct, what is Tom Ford without Tom Ford? That was the question hovering over Milan last month as the brand held its first runway show since the famed designer stepped down in April. The man on the marquee wasn't even in attendance; apparently bad weather left him stuck in London (there was a little thunder the day before, so it's plausible, if unconvincing). The House of Ford arrived with an enormous splash in 2006, creating enormous hype through its hyper limited, hyper expensive apparel, which Ford and business partner Domenico de Sole spun into obscenely lucrative accessories and perfume licensing deals.

It was raining on and off, but that was only fitting, as guests waited for the Summer 2024 show of Burberry, a brand that came to prominence in 1879 through its gabardine water-resistant coats. The Highbury Fields show was in a large tent, emblazoned with its signature check, with a green looping runway carpet inside and various celebrities in attendance. As per the fashion usual, the show was running late. At least it wasn’t pouring. Burberry isn’t just the greatest British luxury house; it’s one of the most compelling fashion houses in the world. No brand has such a rich history of contradictory iconography and speaks so directly to the culture of its home nation. Burberry is classy, trashy, flashy, reserved, functional and oh so unnecessary all at once.