The Personal Edit of Callum Scott Howells: Behind the Scenes of Madfabulous

#ThePersonalEdit

Callum Scott Howells Opens His Camera Roll From the Making of Madfabulous

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Callum Scott Howells shares a selection of personal images taken during the making of Madfabulous, in which he takes on the lead role of Henry Paget, the eccentric fifth Marquess of Anglesey whose extravagant life became the subject of one of Britain’s most remarkable true stories.

Known to many for his BAFTA-winning performance in It's a Sin, Howells spent months inhabiting a character whose life moved between aristocratic privilege, excess and self-invention. The images collected here sit alongside that process, capturing moments on set, between takes and during the production of a film that brings Paget’s singular world back into view. Shared directly from his camera roll and accompanied by his own captions, The Personal Edit offers a personal record of the journey behind Madfabulous, arriving as the film reaches cinemas June 5.

Meet the 5th Marquess of Anglesey and his big old ship folks

Extra curricular cast + crew trip to Zip World

Just your average, every day Victorian mother and son

“I placed this warm coat on the chair here next to me to save it for you Mr Everett”

“I’ll sit here thanks”

Nothing to see here apart from my slippers

On a serious note, Nadia Stacey is a genius and the GOAT fr

Tom holding Nadia’s Oscar (just to officially back up my above statement)

As Founder of the Ruby Stokes Fan Club, I’m delighted to inform you she’s the real deal

“First position please Mr Scott Howells”

Believe it or not, this was actually a job

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all images
(c) Callum Scott Howells

DRAGON PONY *South Korea’s Rising K-Pop Band

DRAGON PONY
When Four Players Collapse Into One Sound

interview + written AMANDA MORTENSON

Dragon Pony belong to a generation of South Korean bands quietly reopening the space for guitars, drums and collective noise inside a musical ecosystem famous for precision pop engineering. Formed by Ahn Tae-gyu, Kwon Se-hyuk, Pyun Sung-hyun and Ko Gang-hun, the four-piece operates within a musical landscape long dominated by tightly produced pop systems. Their work moves in a different direction, built around live instrumentation, collective songwriting and the physical intensity of performance, Dragon Pony position the band itself as the central creative unit.

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shirt FOURONESIXZERO tie + jacket ARCHIVE

Each member brings a distinct role into that structure. Tae-gyu’s voice anchors the group’s melodic direction, Se-hyuk’s guitar frames its tonal identity, Sung-hyun’s bass provides the gravitational core, while Gang-hun’s drumming defines the band’s rhythmic architecture. Together, these elements produce a sound shaped as much by chemistry as by composition.

The band’s thinking about music often extends beyond technical language and performance becomes a shared environment where stage and audience collapse into a single moment of exchange. In this conversation with LE MILE, Dragon Pony reflect on sound, time, collaboration and the subtle mechanics that allow four musicians to merge into one evolving presence.

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Amanda Mortenson
When the four of you walk into a room together, what kind of silence follows you — quiet curiosity, anticipation, or something else entirely?

Ahn Tae-gyu
Before a show, I think it’s a “silence of preparation and excitement,” where anticipation and nervousness coexist - hoping that everything we’ve prepared will be delivered well to everyone who came to see us. And after the show, it feels like a “silence of reflection,” as we slowly let the heat and energy from the stage settle and look back on whether Dragon Pony’s message and energy truly came through.

Tae-gyu, if your voice could melt and take a new shape, what would it become when it cools again?

Ahn Tae-gyu
If I borrow the idea of melting and taking on a new form, I think when it solidifies again it would become something like an even harder metal. The stories and emotions that melt and flow through me would eventually become stronger, more solid.

Ko Gang-hun, drummers often speak through impact. What’s the most delicate sound you’ve ever tried to create — and did anyone notice?

Ko Gang-hun
I don’t think the sounds I make are very close to “delicacy,” so I haven’t had many experiences like that! But one thing comes to mind. When I fall for a drummer, I tend to try to imitate everything about him very meticulously - their motions, gestures, even the tone of their kit.
There was a time when I was completely captivated by Thomas Hedlund, the session drummer for the band Phoenix, and I was trying to copy everything about his playing. During that period, a fan once told me that my snare tone reminded them of Thomas’s snare, and I still remember that.

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What’s the most unexpected sound you’ve ever decided to keep in a song?

Pyun Sung-hyun
Before recording bass, I once accidentally captured some noise. I liked the feel of it, so I sampled it and used it as an FX sound.

Sung-hyun, you once said the bass feels like gravity. What happens when you want to escape it?

Pyun Sung-hyun
Whenever I want to escape that gravity, I do my own personal work - taking photos or videos, or trying to make new music. I step away from what’s familiar for a moment and do the things I personally want to do.

Imagine Dragon Pony performing for someone who’s never experienced music before. How would you describe what’s about to happen — without using words like song, beat, or emotion?

Kwon Se-hyuk
(Dragon Pony = 4 / The people joining the show = X)
(4 + X) = 1
Thump thump thump, boom boom boom, waaaah ÷ (4 + X) = ♡

(Interpretation: When Dragon Pony and the audience come together, they become one - and when that show ends, what remains is love.)

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Se-hyuk, if your guitar suddenly refused to play anything “beautiful,” where would you take it to make peace?

Kwon Se-hyuk
I’d take the guitar to the cinema, into nature, to see people - and to meet the people who’ve been waiting for our music - and then come back.

Who in the band has the best relationship with time and who’s always challenging it?

Ko Gang-hun The person who gets along best with time - and the one who has to - is probably me, the drummer. Because drums are tempo itself.
And the person who goes against time - and has to do it well - is Tae-gyu, our vocalist. Sometimes it’s amazing when sounds are played precisely and meticulously inside the tempo, but there are also times when what feels best is playing freely and comfortably without being obsessed with tempo - and I think that’s something unique to the human voice.

There’s always one instant on stage when you stop being four people and turn into one sound. What triggers that moment for you?

Kwon Se-hyuk
I think the time we’ve spent playing together and living together is what allows us to come together as one. That collective synergy is the band’s identity, and depending on what kinds of times we continue to share, we’ll keep growing and changing.

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When your fans sing louder than you, does it feel like letting go or expanding together?

Ahn Tae-gyu
It’s a feeling that’s hard to put into words. In that moment, it’s not just our performance anymore - it expands to include the audience, and it becomes a moment where everyone is playing together. It’s one of the moments that makes me truly happy.

Looking ahead — five, ten, maybe twenty years — what kind of story do you hope people will tell about Dragon Pony: a quiet legend, or a vivid one?

Ahn Tae-gyu
In the end, I want to be remembered as a vivid story. But at the same time, I hope that everything we leave behind through the stage and our music stays with people - and that when time has passed, it might also become a kind of legend someone can quietly take out and revisit.

Pyun Sung-hyun
I want Dragon Pony to be remembered with the image of “a band that burned hot.”

Kwon Se-hyuk
I hope we can simply be Dragon Pony as we are - and that, in our own way, that can shine fiercely.

Ko Gang-hun
It still feels far away for me to imagine, since we haven’t been a band for long. But if I think about it, the bands I respect - like Foo Fighters and Oasis - have all expressed their stories vividly to the world, and they still are. So I think it would be amazing if we could become like that too.

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photography KANG MINJE
photo assistants LEE AHREUM + LEE JAEHO + YOO JIHOON
videography CHOI SEUNGWON
1st ac PARK HWANPIL
b cam KIM DONGHEE
fashion KIM HYUNJEONG
fashion assistant PARK CHEOLBEEN
fashion pr KIM HEEWON
hair LEE SEUNGJOON
make up LEE JEONGWON
band DRAGON PONY
talents AN TAEGYU + PYUN SUNGHYUN + KWON SEHYUK + KO GANGHUN

Aurelien Muller Shares His Camera Roll: Inside Aurelien Muller’s First Cannes Film Festival

#ThePersonalEdit

Aurelien Muller Opens His Camera Roll From Cannes 2026

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Aurelien Muller shares a glimpse into his personal camera roll from his first visit to the Cannes Film Festival. Moving between hotel moments on the Côte d’Azur, fittings, red carpets and late-night celebrations, the images document the rhythm and atmosphere surrounding one of cinema’s most visible annual gatherings.

Arriving in the sunny Riviera for my first ever Cannes Film Festival.

Known for his recent appearance in Emily in Paris, Muller approached Cannes through a mix of film, fashion and personal observation. Across the festival, he attended events hosted by brands including Chopard, Ray-Ban and HFC Parfums, while stepping onto the Cannes red carpet for the very first time. Shot on his phone and paired with his own captions, The Personal Edit follows the days from arrival to closing night through Muller’s perspective.

A moment of peace at Chatea de Theoule before the excitement begins!

Looking out for any finishing touches before I walk the Cannes red carpet for the first time.

Then come those special Côte d'Azur nights. This evening celebrating HFC parfums was unforgettable.

Talking all things HFC Parfums with this incredible team.

Another day of fittings, grooming, and a special night with Chopard ahead.

My view before heading into Chopard’s The Miracle Gala.

A memorable evening with great company.

What a pleasant surprise!

Back in the chair for a refresh ahead of a busy day at Cannes.

Celebrating Ray-Ban in an all-white ensemble.

The glasses.

A moment for the many outfits of Cannes!

One of the final outfits of the trip, for a very special closing night!

A special moment on the carpet with Daria Strokous for EE72’s celebration of Film and Fashion.

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(c) Aurelien Muller

Jacob Greenway Shares His Camera Roll: Prepared to Play Jude Bellingham in Dear England

#ThePersonalEdit

Jacob Greenway Opens His Camera Roll From Dear England

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Jacob Greenway shares a glimpse into his personal camera roll during the making of Dear England, the BBC adaptation of James Graham’s acclaimed stage production about Gareth Southgate and the England national football team. In the series, Greenway steps into the role of Jude Bellingham, one of the defining young players of England’s current generation.

Read throughs are special because it’s the first time you see the script come to life. I was consumed with excitement, gratitude, and trying to look calmer than I actually felt.

Moving between training grounds, set moments and the atmosphere surrounding a production shaped by football culture and national expectation, Jacob´s photos document a period balancing performance, preparation and the intensity surrounding one of the country’s most closely watched stories. Alongside Joseph Fiennes as Gareth Southgate, the series revisits the emotional pressure, ambition and scrutiny surrounding modern English football. Shot on his phone and paired with his own captions, The Personal Edit offers a direct look into the experience from Greenway’s perspective.

The only photo i’ve got from a base. The amount of hours we spent playing football at base was breathtaking. Some of my fondest memories are from kicking ball with the lads.

My first day filming. Energy was high. Vibes were immaculate.

Pre-training scene in my trailer. We spent a lot of time in these kits over the shoot, but this specific kit was always the standout for me.

Wondering round the pitch trying to get an aesthetic pic when I probably should’ve been paying attention.

A quick break with Roman Kemp and The BBC One Show during my stunt rehearsal. I was lucky to have Tyson with me throughout the process - if I broke my leg best believe he’d step in as my stunt double - had a wig on standby!

Rented out Tottenham Hotspur’s, as you do.

To many people’s surprise this was my first time inside a football stadium.

Sir Paul Whittington watching one of the overhead kick takes - The expression on his face was priceless. It felt good pulling that off.

Action shot from the Switzerland penalties scene. I spent the best part of two weeks making sure my run up was identical to Jude’s - only to get to set and find out they were only shooting my feet. still had to deliver the whole performance though.

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(c) Jacob Greenway

Mulaa Shares Her Camera Roll: On Love Letter, Touring and Finding Her Voice

#ThePersonalEdit

Mulaa Joans Opens Her Camera Roll from Her First International Shows

written KLAAS HAMMER

For this edition of the Personal Edit, Mulaa Joans gives us a glimpse into what life is really like for a young rising artist. Between soundchecks, fan meet-ups, radio interviews, and visits to all kinds of venues, things never get boring. The singer has already caused quite a buzz on social media. She has more than 400,000 followers on TikTok, and her song “Love Letter” alone has been streamed millions of times, with over 50,000 posts created using her sound. To get to know her a little better, she answered a few questions for us:

My first international radio interview in Amsterdammm
photo / QMusic

Klaas Hammer
How did you first get into music, and which artists inspired you the most in your early days?

Mulaa Joans
I got into music because I think I was born with it. I always felt so inspired by and close to the songs my dad and I listened to. He used to play artists like Prince and Pink Floyd. But I really started singing because my mom used to sing to me every night before I went to sleep. It was something she loved to do, and girls love being like their mums. I wanted to be like her and sing. We still sing together to this day. It’s so cute.

What does a typical songwriting session look like for you, and what tends to inspire your songs the most?

I often write songs or melody ideas and concepts in my bedroom, or while sitting by my window, to YouTube beats. It was something I always used to do when I was little because I can’t play any instruments, but I really like that I still implement that in my songwriting today. I then usually take those ideas into sessions with the people I work with, and we make the song better. I’m inspired by literally everything. I think as I’m growing up, I’m learning how to speak about things that may have happened to me in the past, things that maybe I wasn’t ready to speak about when I was younger. But I’m also very inspired by film. I often write songs based on films or TV storylines.

Your music has been all over our feeds, with videos and edits with millions of views using your song “Love Letter.” Why do you think the track connects so strongly, and what is it about it that resonates with so many people?

I honestly think it’s because the lyrics are so blunt and honest, and often people are scared to say exactly how they feel. I’ve always been a very confrontational and blunt person, so I think it comes across in my songwriting. People relate to it because it’s something they feel they want to say to someone in their life, but don’t feel like they can. The song gives them an outlet for that.

Looking back so far, what has been the most memorable moment of your career?

I think the most memorable moment of my career has been my show in Amsterdam. I can’t even express to you how crazy it is that people in another country are singing the lyrics to my songs that aren’t even out yet. That is just actually mad. The fans were so nice, and I really loved getting to stay and chat with them.

Signing my setlists for a newfound fan!!

Claws out for my headline in Amsterdam! It was unbelievable, I loved every second

Visiting a venue I can only dream of playing in Brussels one dayyyy

Fan meet-up in Amsterdam! This blew my mind, and I can’t wait to come back

A moment for the Paris fit… This skirt I will be buried in

One of my fav shots from tour, taken by a very talented fan, @shotbyninte
photo / Ninte Hogeslag

Backstage pouts, ’cause it’s my go-to face 🤫

This was my first time seeing my name in lightssss… WTF

Smiley soundcheck with Kent on the keysss

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(c) Mulaa Joans

ADRIAN KISS *Keeping the Comfort Complicated

Objects Don’t Rest, They Plot

Adrian Kiss Keeps the Comfort Complicated


interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

There’s a duvet folded in half in Adrian Kiss’s memory, heavy with wool and childhood, a private weather system pressed close in the dark. Long before anyone started calling it sculpture, there were mattresses, blankets, the stubborn geometry of safety and sleep, objects that promised comfort and ended up complicating it. Adrian grew up negotiating softness and weight, inventing worlds under covers that protected and sometimes trapped, learning early that the line between body and object is a moving target.

Dunyha Firka 1, 2021, quilted leather and canvas with acrylic spheres, 200 × 140 cm, presented as part of Dunyha Tomorrow at acb Gallery, Budapest, Hungary, 2021 / Image by Dávid Tóth

Leather Hole 1, 2021, leather on metal structure, 185 × 150 cm, presented as part of Dunyha Tomorrow at acb Gallery, Budapest, Hungary, 2021 / Image by Dávid Tóth

His work never hides its seams. Materials arrive marked, stained, scarred by use or time, sometimes freshly buried, sometimes coaxed into new shapes by the hands of collaborators or by gravity itself. Duvets and tyres, stitched suns and industrial leftovers, everything carrying traces of its past life, everything drafted into the ongoing drama of care and disruption. Nostalgia and hypermodernity don’t compete here. They mingle in the form of a quilt dragged across a concrete floor or a basket woven to hold more than bread.

The studio is both laboratory and cul-de-sac, a place where tools outnumber screens and the slow work of listening shapes every decision. When things risk getting too polished, Adrian ruins the surface, lets chaos in, or simply walks away until time itself gets bored and leaves its mark. He’s learned to trust whatever’s at hand, scrap, memory, silence, and to keep the choreography open, the outcome unresolved. 
Every object in the room wants to speak, but the story keeps shifting, between sleep and vigilance, labor and leisure, skin and structure. That’s the paradox Adrian returns to inhabit, over and over, until the work feels as alive and restless as the hand that made it.

Alban E. Smajli
Your work thrives on physical materials. How do you decide which medium becomes the “skin” of your next piece?

Adrian Kiss
For me, the “skin” of the work is often where the human body is, as that has been at the centre of my practice. My relationship with materials is intuitive, a safe space that forms the foundation of my artistic language.
In my earlier work, I struggled to translate my positionality and material intuition into larger narratives, often compelling me to symbolically bury my pieces for transformation and “curing”. This analogy became a guiding methodology for understanding the performativity of materials and the transformative potential of forces. I began investigating how the non-living can act as a performer, embodying time-based processes, under and beyond the influence of the human. When deciding what becomes the 'skin' of a work, I think about its capacity to resist or welcome the passing of time.

Tell us about your childhood obsession with duvets, why does that heavy comfort keep showing up in your installations?

I’m drawn to everyday gestures and the object culture associated with them. I’m especially interested in the things we all must do, like sleeping, but which, sadly, we’re not all allowed to do equally. We all need sleep, but are we given the right to rest? Mattresses, blankets, pillows, and duvets represent the care of home and the comfort of safety. In my installations and sculptures, they often appear without the human figure, and in that absence, they start to become the body. I use them to create a sense of insecurity by juxtaposing their softness and familiarity with more brutal or unstable surroundings.
I only started working with bedding a few years ago, after a long period of engaging with jackets and garments. Duvets, in particular, carry intimate traces, stains, scents, marks, subtle forms of memory and presence. They’re comforting, but they also speak of vulnerability. At my grandparents’, their duvet was filled with thick wool, making it very heavy. As a child, under its heavy-comfort, I often felt trapped and safe.

Say your studio suddenly went analog. No screens or signal, just tools and silence. How might that reshape the way you create, or even the way you think inside your space?

Answering this question tells much about how I work. I haven’t always been in the privileged position to do art full time, I’ve worked alongside my studio practice most of my life. This really shaped what I had access to, time and money-wise. So I often worked by collaborating with other creators to produce parts of my work. This meant I didn’t need much of a studio; much of the experimentation at the start was done on paper. With time, I reconnected with making, and that was a revelation, I found a new purpose in it. But havint this experience, I’m also comfortable working with whatever space and tools I have access to.
No screens and signals, just tools and silence, would mean I am a child again, probably getting bored soon, and through that, entertaining myself through creative explorations of what I have and what I know. Sounds exciting.

Is It Big? Is It Small? How Does It Smell?, 2024, textile objects with clay, sand, straw and wooden pallets, dimensions vary / Image by Adrian Kiss

Is It Big? Is It Small? How Does It Smell?, 2024, textile objects with clay, sand, straw and wooden pallets, dimensions vary / Image by Adrian Kiss

Your inspirations range from brutalist architecture in Romania to internet visuals. How do you balance nostalgia with hyper-modernity?

These seemingly opposite sources of influence are not so far from each other. My work exists both in the countryside and the city, because that’s where I’m from. I live and work in the memory and nostalgia of my time spent in Romania and Hungary, but I’m constantly inspired by my surroundings. Having studied in the UK and the Netherlands, always being on the move, I’m constantly challenged to question my learnings.

It’s true that in my early work, right after graduating, I was very much a post-internet artist, deeply engaged with digital aesthetics. But over time, that shifted and I became more present in my physical surroundings and also began mingling more with memory, especially memories of my childhood in Coșnea.
I spent many summers in that cul-de-sac village, isolated in the Romanian mountains, at my grandparents’ home. It was largely untouched by urbanisation. The small rural working-class community, where folk traditions were still lived and performed through material culture, gave me a deep sensitivity to how objects carry meaning, and agency. Now, after living in two post-socialist countries, and then in London and the Netherlands, I see how the city is present in the village, and the village in the city. What seems like a contrast, between nostalgia and hyper-modernity, often overlap. I move between them intuitively.

When things get too polished, do you ever feel the urge to ruin them a little, just to keep the chaos alive?

Yeah, that is exactly what happened when I lost contact with the making. I felt like my works were coming out of a factory, and I’d been removed from them emotionally. It wasn’t an urge to create chaos that I felt, but an urge to “age” my work. This is how I came up with the idea of burying my early pieces and allowing them to cure. I’ve tackled this question frequently in the past years through different experimentations where I extended the making to forces outside my control. I dropped sculptures from my studio window in an improvised but directed sequence, a performance that lasted 16 minutes. The “final compositions” were shaped by gravity and inertia. The audience’s experience was guided by the expectation, what will fall next, and when?
On another occasion, in the performance titled Mom, Why Didn’t You Tell Me?, I wished to juxtapose the care embodied by six quilted wool blankets with the brutality of soil and the everyday. I demonstrated these tensions by disassembling a 500 kg adobe sculpture in front of an audience, and carrying the adobe’s weight down to the garden using the blankets..

How does physical context—like the sunken pool at VUNU or decaying industrial spaces—shape the way your work behaves in the real world?

I usually organise my studio time around larger projects that often respond to the spaces where the works will be shown. That was the case with my solo show at VUNU, Satin, Soil, Stomach, curated by Lilla Lipusz. When we first visited the space and submerged ourselves in the concrete basin of the former swimming pool, we were transported elsewhere, the space had a particular vibration that had to be respected.

It became a question of listening, of learning how to be in dialogue with both the space and the materials. Listening, arguably, has been suppressed today, whether through the silencing of others, the deliberate creation of noise and disinformation, or through our own disconnection from listening itself. The work created for VUNU would have a different dialogue in another space. Equally meaningful, but a different story.

Untitled (bonnet), 2014, acrylic paint on car bonnet, 97 × 128 × 6 cm, presented as part of MMM at art quarter budapest, Budapest, Hungary, 2020 / Image by Dávid Biró

Roll Me, Squeeze Me, Say My Name (detail), 2025, quilted wool blankets, tires, ratchet straps and wire on metal structure, 544 × 400 × 150 cm, presented as part of Restless Dislocations at Ján Koniarek Gallery, Trnava, Slovakia, with Radovan Čerevka, 2025 / Image by Dávid Biró

Your moodboards often feel like industrial scraps meet sci-fi: what’s your trick for transforming found objects into uncanny-human extensions?

I’m compelled to juxtapose materials, shapes, and concepts with polar values. There’s a kind of specificity that emerges when you intersect them. Through their contradictions, something precise is revealed, often oddly familiar, rooted in the everyday. Like the harshness of quilted black leather paired with soft padding. Or the weight of an old used tyre placed beside a woven basket. Or the intimacy of a stitched sun on a wool blanket, a material usually meant to protect the body, now used to carry remains from a “burial site.” Care and brutality in the quotidian are not opposites, but entangled, complicating any clear notion of what care even means.

When do you feel the work is alive? Is it the moment you stitch it together, exhibit it, or let it sit and transform with time?

Most of my stitchwork is done by my fantastic colleague Eszter Előd, she gets to experience the slow catharsis of a quilt coming together, step by step. I often work as a producer, collaborating with others to create something together. Like Sándor Végh, a third-generation basket weaver, or Zoltán Ónodi, an incredible welder and metalworker. And more recently, I’ve been collaborating with the agency of time and chance itself. In other instances, I do the labour myself, because it’s conceptually important that I endure the weight of the soil, or because I technically can, and want to.
That said, while the process of making is always fascinating, what I enjoy most isn’t the making, it’s the human connections that come with it. I get to meet and work with talented people, to share stories and trust.

What’s the next paradox you want to explore? Organic vs. synthetic is “vintage Kiss.” Where do you go after that?

I’ve recently leapt into time-based media, and I’m enjoying the new challenges and the broader visual vocabulary it allows. Rather than seeking new paradoxes, I want to deepen the ones I’ve already been working with, exploring them in depth and more situated.
Lately, I’ve realised how much material has been right in front of me that I’ve overlooked, like the social interactions with my collaborators, the physical labour of preparing adobe for my sculptures. These aren’t just background processes, or invisible work, they’re part of the work.

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Adrian Kiss
Dunyha Tomorrow, installation view, acb Gallery, Budapest, Hungary, 2021 / Image by Dávid Tóth

COSIMA KAIBEL *Three Stripes and the Codes of a Generation

Three Stripes and the Codes of a Generation
From Neukölln to Canvas with Cosima Kaibel

interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Adidas appears in contemporary painting with a frequency that would have seemed unlikely a generation ago. The three stripes have moved beyond sportswear and entered the visual vocabulary of a younger generation of artists. Tracksuits and sneakers circulate through studios and canvases in cities like Berlin, London or New York as a shared cultural code, carrying references to belonging, migration histories, street culture and urban identity. For many painters today, these garments carry a particular duality. They are instantly recognizable yet deeply ordinary.

leather bomber jacket by ESRA VON KORNATZKI

A tracksuit can signal attitude, nostalgia, irony or intimacy depending on how it is framed. Adidas has quietly become part of the visual language through which contemporary identity is read and expressed.

Berlin-based artist Cosima Kaibel approaches this language from within the environment that shaped her. After years abroad, she returned to Berlin, where her work continues to circle around Neukölln and the subtle social codes embedded in everyday scenes.

For this collaboration with Adidas, Kaibel condenses the scene into a fragment where two figures meet, visible only from the legs down, Adidas trousers falling into Adistar Control 5 sneakers as the three stripes trace quiet lines along the bodies. Everything above the frame remains open. Without faces, identity unfolds through posture, fabric and proximity, allowing the viewer to complete the moment while reflecting Kaibel’s wider interest in how bodies are framed and interpreted in contemporary visual culture.

Alban E. Smajli
You lived in the UK, China, Uruguay, India, France and Italy before coming back to Berlin. Did leaving make you see the city more clearly, and why did you decide to return and paint it again? How does place shape identity for you?

Cosima Kaibel
Leaving and coming back definitely changed my perspective on the city. It made it feel much more like home. Exploring different places made me realize what’s special about Berlin to me and see the magic in things I thought were normal before, like the mix of cultures on Sonnenallee or the Queer culture here, the rough down-to-earth attitude of Berliners and the way all of these shape the whole energy of the city. Seeing things that are different helped me realize that there is no universal ‘normal’, but that ‘normal’ is always relative. That was freeing.

I believe that places are a big part of identity. They determine our experiences, what we learn, what we see, values people hold up around us. All of that eventually shapes who we become. Even if you try to live in your own bubble, you still move through streets, hear languages, deal with people. That does something to you, even if it means rejecting your direct environment. Traveling made me realize how much I do identify as a Berliner, if not a Neuköllner. (44 Represents! - That’s the number of the part of the district where my school was.)

Painting scenes from the city and my district is a way for me to show my appreciation for this place and the things it stands for in my view. I paint it because it formed me. 

What does identity mean to you right now?

To me identity means knowing who I am, which is rather an ongoing process than a fixed definition. It’s about understanding what matters to you and why. When I look at the people and places I grew up with, I understand myself better. Shared experiences stick. School friends, old memories, stupid stories you still laugh about - that creates belonging. Even if everyone came from different backgrounds and went in different directions later on.
Identity isn’t just how you see yourself. It’s also who you experienced things together with. I’m also interested in how identity is performed.
Through clothes, posture, the way someone stands or moves. You don’t just have an identity - you show it. Sometimes consciously, sometimes not. That’s something I explore in my Neukölln series and in my newer series „Anything Butt Dates“ - Bodies carry projection, control, vulnerability, stories, and power. 

For our first ever painted cover, you decided to show only the lower body, from the thighs down. Why did you leave out the faces? What changes when identity is told through posture, fabric and sneakers?

Omitting faces is something I often do in my work, because they often don’t matter for what I want to show. Posture, fabric and sneakers are carriers of cultural meaning and stories. A tracksuit, for example, is never just sportswear; in Neukölln it becomes part of a shared visual language. When faces disappear, the image becomes less about “this person” and more about structures: belonging, subculture, class, gender expression - which is what I’m more interested in, when I choose to paint this way.
At the same time, leaving out faces creates space for projection. The viewer completes the image, fills in what is missing, invents a story beyond the frame. I’m interested in that openness. I don’t want to over-explain or resolve everything. I want to provoke a certain unresolved tension, a friction that keeps the image alive. 

watch the making of
/ directed and filmed by FURKAN CETIN

And what do you imagine is happening beyond what we see (We only see part of the scene and everything above the frame is open)? Is that anonymity protective, political or simply poetic for you?

For me, it’s just a love scene. Two people kissing. Whether they’re men, women, or something else doesn’t matter. If that becomes political, that says more about society than about the image.


Also, in general I like to omit details in the stories I write and the images I create, when they’re not necessary. In this image it’s about two people in a moment of affection. It doesn’t matter which gender they identify with or what skin color they have. I also find it boring to be too explicit.
In “Anything Butt Dates,” anonymity has a protective dimension. The project deals with male bodies as carriers of social role models, beauty ideals, and power structures, but also as vulnerable and relational beings. In a digital culture shaped by dating apps and photographic self-exposure, the act of showing and withholding becomes charged. Omitting details protects the privacy of the models and shifts attention to the politics of the gaze itself. 

When you paint Adidas, do you think of it as a brand, or more as a shared cultural code for your generation?

Both - but primarily as a cultural code. In Neukölln, certain brands function almost like dialects. A three-stripe tracksuit carries references to migration histories, masculinity, street culture, aspiration. It can signal belonging or stereotype at the same time. I’m interested in that ambiguity. When I paint something like that, I’m not advertising a brand - I’m painting a social symbol. It’s similar to how Renaissance painters depicted fabric folds to signify status. Today, a tracksuit can communicate just as much.

That’s also why, in the painting with the tracksuit, I gave so much attention and care to the material itself. I treated it with a kind of tenderness - to show the texture, the shine, the weight of the fabric. By rendering it with that level of detail and affection, I elevate something often dismissed as ordinary or stereotypical and show how it carries dignity, complexity, and beauty. Even if the cover isn’t officially part of the Neukölln series, it speaks the same language.
Cropped bodies, sneakers close to each other, stripes running down the legs. You don’t see faces but you immediately read identity, generation, intimacy. Clothes tell the story.

In this image, the brand almost disappears.
The stripes become lines connecting the bodies.
It’s less about a logo, more about proximity and shared code.

You’ve often explored who is looking and who is being seen (especially in your series "Anything Butt Dates"). In this cover, without faces, who really holds the power of the image?

Me and the viewer. The models I work with agree to be directed by me. That way I create the image but every viewer has their own experience with it. They can notice different aspects of it and are free to let their own imagination interpret and judge it. It’s something that’s out of my control. Once I let an image go, it’s with everyone who sees it.

What does a typical day in your studio look like right now, and what kinds of images or moments in everyday life tend to catch your attention?

Sometimes I lock myself in, put on music, and paint for hours without talking to anyone. Other times I invite friends over. I like noise in the background and life happening while I work. I also host events here. Art shouldn’t sit in a white cube pretending it’s above everything. It’s part of society. So people come, we talk, we argue, we drink, we think.
Some days I feel like I have to go outside. Walk around. Call people. See what’s changing. Other days I don’t leave until something on the canvas finally makes sense. The beginning of a painting is usually messy, vague, like trying to remember a dream. I often don’t know what I think until I paint it. Sometimes I photograph models, sometimes I sculpt, sometimes I write. I like having a plan - and then ignoring it. Structure is good. Something to push against.

I’m drawn to things that feel slightly off. An old car overloaded with watermelons. Trash on the street, a bridal shop next to a men’s café, a male butt. Things people don’t consider “important” are usually the most interesting. They carry more story than they admit.

There is often a quiet tension in your work, between glamour and absurdity, closeness and distance. Where does that tension sit in this cover motif?

I think, in a sense, it has something voyeuristic about it, although there is nothing explicit and it’s entirely anonymous. However, it’s not me who is to judge. If I wanted to explain everything in words, I wouldn’t paint. I think the tension exists because something remains unresolved, and that’s where an image begins to breathe.

Has growing up in Berlin shaped your sense of humor and irony in your work?

Berlin has a very specific dryness.
If you don’t develop a sense of humor here, you won’t last long. So you learn to laugh at things, including yourself. People will insult you and help you in the same breath. You either learn to find that funny or you suffer.
In Berlin, a grandmother might yell at someone in Arabic while two queer guys in crop tops walk past at 8 a.m. after a club night. No one blinks. That coexistence shapes your humor. You stop taking a lot of things seriously.

I use humor as a way in. Otherwise people shut down. I’m not interested in moralizing or lecturing people. I’d rather make them look twice.

What are you curious about exploring next in your practice?

When I was painting places, I was already dealing with power. Space shows you everything: Who takes it, who avoids it, who feels safe, who doesn’t.
A city isn’t neutral, it reflects how we live together.
Now I’m focusing more on bodies. But it’s the same question. Bodies are also shaped by power, by media, by art history, by what was idealized and what was excluded. The way we’ve learned to look at bodies affects how we look at ourselves and others, how we interact, how we judge, how much space we believe we’re supposed to take up and where.

In that sense I’m not really changing the topic, I’m just zooming in.

---

seen NICOLAI SAUER
styled + fashion editor KLAAS HAMMER
make up + hair LEO STERN
talent COSIMA KAIBEL
male model MERLIN FINN BARBER
head of production ALBAN E. SMAJLI
production LEMILESTUDIOS
film + direction FURKAN CETIN
in collaboration with adidas

ESRA VON KORNATZKI *Developing Garments from Existing Materials and Process

Esra von Kornatzki Works with Worn Materials and Fixed Surfaces in Contemporary Fashion

interview + written SARAH ARENDTS
seen JULIAN MELZER

Esra von Kornatzki is a Berlin-based designer whose work develops from a background in sculpture and fine art studies at Universität der Künste. Her focus lies in constructing garments directly on and for the body, using methods that stem from mold-making, draping and surface treatment. Pattern cutting functions as a way of shaping the body, with each piece defined through proportion, weight and material resistance.

leather bomber jacket by ESRA VON KORNATZKI

She uses existing materials such as discarded leather, inherited fabrics and used saddle blankets sourced from racetracks. These materials are chosen for their surface condition and durability. Signs of wear such as creases, dirt, sweat or discolouration are not removed. Instead, they are fixed into the garment through technical processes. Saddle blankets, for example, are treated with a water-based transfer glue, silk-screen printed and then fused with a transparent foil using heat, sealing the surface and preserving the traces underneath.

Esra von Kornatzki works directly with the material rather than outsourcing production, allowing the properties of each fabric to influence the final shape. Many of the materials resist standard sewing techniques, which results in firm, structured silhouettes.

Her parallel involvement in horse racing informs the way she works with time and preparation. Materials often come from that environment, and the process of developing a garment follows a similar logic of pacing and control. The garments retain visible information about their origin and a sofa becomes a bomber jacket, saddle blankets become coats and trousers. The previous use remains present through the surface, while the function changes through construction.

Sekou is wearing a trenchcoat from ESRA VON KORNATZKI, GDR military boots from FASHION ARCHIVE, and knitted gloves from FASHION ARCHIVE

Sekou is wearing a grey suit, and Esra is wearing a white suit from ESRA VON KORNATZKI and red leather gloves from MAISON MARGIELA

Sarah Arendts
What led you from sculpture into fashion design?

Esra von Kornatzki
Sculpture has a tendency to be very removed from the body, an object in space, but I wanted to get closer to the human body and have that as my point of reference. Fashion design feels more urgent and relatable, as it implies everyday usage and thus becomes part of a new physical reality rather than something to look at. There is an intense, passionate relationship between people and their clothes that I find compelling. 

How does your fine art training influence the way you construct garments?

My background in fine art shapes the way I look at and construct garments. My studies were conceptual and that translates into the way I approach fashion design. There is the symbolic meaning a material carries but also its physical abilities. My first professor was a sculptor and the second a painter. You will find both influences in the garments I make in the way I stress the three dimensional aspect of clothing, treating the body like a canvas that the clothing wraps around. During my fine art studies I became an expert in mold making. Pattern making and drapage is an extension of that skill, molding the body and changing its properties, using the garment as a medium. I like to transform the fabrics and materials I find, treating the surface using dye and methods of coating like laminating. I tend to work with stubborn materials that resist being sown, but it gives them their strong sculptural quality and firmness in the silhouettes. 

What role does manual work play in your process? 

I think through making. That’s another reason why I place so much value on craftsmanship, which has always caused some residual tension between me and my conceptual art training. But I think of this tension as a strength and driving force, it's part of my identity as an artist and designer. As a designer I don’t like handing over the production part of the design process. Technology has detached many from manual work and I think certain ideas and refinement gets lost in this disconnect. For example, the stubbornness of the material I work with pushes me to find creative solutions and incidentally teaches me to be patient, which definitely hasn’t been my strong suit. I like to joke that I don’t have any impulse control, which can be a source of creative output, but also needs to be channeled carefully. Time is an important factor, manual work takes time, a rare commodity in our society, but something you see and feel, when you wear the garment. For me, manual work is more than a means to an end, it's a dialogue based on the material and the vision of the form it should take. 

What criteria do you use when selecting materials for a piece?

At art university it's a common notion that sculptors have a material fetish and I think it’s true for fashion designers as well. I have this obsession with the physical and symbolic qualities of certain materials that I’m intuitively drawn to and I think that materials age like fine wine. My selection process is a mixture of purpose and chance. I’m a nostalgic 90’s girl. I usually use worn materials, because I love a good story and worn materials are more likely to tell one. It started when my grandmother passed away and I inherited all her fabrics. Oftentimes I know an opportunity, when I see one. For example, I had to rework an old leather sofa for a client, the old leather was too gorgeous (showing off everybody who’s ever sat on it and every sunray that shown on it) to throw away and I came up with a piece, which is the bomber jacket, that suited the thick discarded leather of the sofa. It's the unused potential I see. For the other garments in this editorial, I sourced the material from a racetrack near me, each saddle blanket had been used once on a rainy day, meaning they were full of dirt and sweat, bearing witness to a specific moment in time, which made them interesting to me. However, I knew the material had to be modified in order to become desirable, which led me to coating it. In most cases I look for durability as well, functional, high quality materials that could last a lifetime, even if signs of usage add to their given patina, essentially continuing the story. 

What changes when a worn object like a sofa or saddle blanket is turned into clothing?

The context changes. The original object disappears physically, but remains conceptually present. The new garment gives clues to its origin through traces and marks on its surface, which aren’t immediately decodable for the audience, but felt anyhow by them. 

Esra is wearing a top from INTIMISSIMI, nylon shorts and boots from PRADA (via @velvetknife.archive), and Romeo Ultra is wearing a leather collar by ESRA VON KORNATZKI

Esra is wearing a top from ORNELLA PROSPERI, a jacket from ESRA VON KORNATZKI, and pants and bag from FASHION ARCHIVE

Sekou is wearing jeans from ESRA VON KORNATZKI, gloves and a waist bag from FASHION ARCHIVE

How do you technically preserve traces such as dirt, sweat or hair when coating materials?

For the saddle blankets I used a water based transfer glue (TRANSLAC BOND 55) that I silk screen printed onto the material and then fused with a glossy transparent foil using a heat press at 16o °C, essentially laminating the material and trapping the dirt, sweat and hair underneath.

What information do you want the material to retain once it becomes a garment?

I want the material to retain its history—where it came from, even if in an abstract sense—and its symbolic meaning. I’m interested in what a material carries physically and conceptually, and how that can continue to inform the garment once it is transformed.

How do you position your work within current discussions around material-driven design?

Generally speaking, material does come first in my design process and informs the outcome. I relate to practices like Martin Margiela or even Joseph Beuys, where material isn’t neutral but holds memory and meaning before it becomes form. The material has been exposed to time and happenings, which shape its physical and aesthetic reality, making it a witness and narrating agent. I hold a deep sensitivity for texture, fabric behavior, and tactility. Intuitively exploring and engineering materials while also respecting what they are rather than forcing them to fit a preconceived idea. It's a hybrid practice of a material-led, but conceptually-charged design approach.

What kind of relationship should exist between the garment and the body?

An emotionally charged one - somewhere between love, desire, mystery and comfort. A garment should be an extension of the body and soul. Fashion needs to be felt. My muses that I tailor the garments to, are often people close to me and how I feel about them shapes the garments they inspire me to make. It's another conversation: that between garment and body and I’m in a feedback loop with my muses during the design process in order to modify the garment based on their experience. 

How do you ensure your work is not reduced to sustainability or upcycling?

Sustainability is not my primary motivation. I work with materials sourced outside fashion’s conventional system, rethinking their use and making them desirable for clothes, giving them a stage to tell their own story. The focus is on aesthetic and conceptual value, quality and functionality, as well as sustainability. Although I would describe myself as somewhat of a hoarder, making it a coping mechanism to repurpose materials into polished and clean garments in order to declutter—literally and metaphorically.

What are the next steps for your work within fashion?

To expand the dialogue and deepen the narrative dimension—through collaboration, new contexts, and material experimentation —while exploring accessories as an extension of the practice.

Esra is wearing a top from ORNELLA PROSPERI and a jacket from ESRA VON KORNATZKI

---

photography JULIAN MELZER
designer ESRA VON KORNATZKI
styling XUAN
talent SEKOU + ESRA VON KORNATZKI + ROMEO ULTRA
hair + make up JANETTE PETERS
assistant YEONGHYEON KANG

ELMIENE *That’s How Elmiene Lets Songs Become Someone Else’s

That’s How Elmiene Lets Songs Become Someone Else’s

interview + written KLAAS HAMMER

Elmiene proves that the future of neo-soul and contemporary R&B is in good hands. With his gentle voice, smooth production, and emotionally raw, poetic songwriting, the British-Sudanese artist blends modern sounds with a sense of nostalgia. His track “Someday” perfectly captures this signature style.

His rise began unexpectedly when a viral 2021 cover of D’Angelo’s “Untitled (How Does It Feel?)” caught the attention of producer Lil Silva, marking a turning point in his career. Since then, he has released several EPs and standout singles, earning recognition such as a top-five placement in the BBC Sound of 2024 poll and a BRIT Award nomination for Rising Star.

Following a steady stream of releases, including his 2026 single “Reclusive,” Elmiene now offers a first glimpse into the next chapter of his artistry with his debut album „sounds for someone“.


Elmiene / photographed by Andres Castillo

Klaas Hammer
The title of your album, “sounds for someone,” feels almost like an open-ended idea as if your music is speaking for or to someone specific. Who is that “someone” to you?

Elmiene
I don’t think it’s ever been one fixed person, you know. The songs feel like they belong to me at first, and then once they’re out, they don’t anymore—they become whoever needs them. So ‘someone’ could be anyone. It could be me at a certain time, it could be someone I’ve loved, or someone I’ve lost. I liked leaving it open, because I want the music to find people where they are, rather than telling them who it’s for.

You were born in Frankfurt, raised in Oxford and have Sudanese roots - three very different cultural spaces. How do these influences show up in your music and shape the way you create?

I think those different places show up more in how I feel than in anything obvious. Growing up in Oxford, I was quite internal, quite observant—I spent a lot of time in my own head, and that definitely shaped how I write. And then Sudan is more like memory and inheritance. It’s family, it’s stories, it’s emotion that’s been passed down. So the music becomes this mix of introspection and legacy—trying to understand what’s mine and what’s been given to me.

Listening to your recent work, there’s a strong sense of intimacy and introspection. What themes or inner tensions were you trying to explore or make sense of in this project? And can you tell us a bit about the recording process behind the album?

This project was me trying to sit with a lot of different emotions at once. I felt lonely sometimes, I felt loved sometimes, I felt guilty, I felt forgiven—it was quite overwhelming at points. A lot of it comes back to love and loss, especially around my dad, and just trying to make sense of memory. I wanted it to be really honest, even in the smallest moments, like zooming in on things that might seem insignificant but actually carry a lot. The recording process was quite instinctive—we weren’t chasing perfection, just trying to capture something real before it disappeared.

Elmiene / photographed by Andres Castillo

When watching you perform, what stands out is not only the warmth and emotion in your voice, but also a very natural stage presence. Did you always feel like the stage was where you belong, or is that something you grew into over time?

I think I grew into it over time. I never really saw myself as someone who was meant to be on stage—it felt quite distant at first. But then I realised performing is just an extension of the song. I’m not trying to be anything different up there, I’m just singing something that means a lot to me. And I think that’s what makes it feel natural now—there’s no performance on top of it, it’s just the feeling.

Your music often feels like a very direct emotional outlet, almost like a diary set to sound. Are there things you find you can only express through music, but not in conversation?

Yeah, definitely. There are things I wouldn’t know how to say in conversation, or maybe I just wouldn’t feel comfortable saying them. With music, you can sit in a feeling without having to explain it or resolve it. You can contradict yourself, you can be vulnerable in a way that doesn’t need to be justified. It’s the only place where I feel like I can be completely honest.

With your family roots in Sudan, a country currently facing significant challenges, how does that reality shape your perspective as an artist? Do you feel a responsibility to reflect or respond to it through your music?

It’s always present in some way. Even when I’m not speaking about it directly, it shapes how I see things—family, identity, everything really. I don’t feel like I have to make explicit statements all the time, but I do feel a responsibility to be honest and to carry that part of me properly. If I’m telling my story truthfully, then Sudan is already in it. And if that resonates with someone or makes them feel seen, then that’s important.

seen by Andres Castillo
talent Elmiene
thanks to Cherry

Eva Lys Shares Her Camera Roll: The Porsche Tennis Grand Prix

#ThePersonalEdit

Eva Lys Opens Her Camera Roll from the Porsche Tennis Grand Prix

written KLAAS HAMMER

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Eva Lys offers a glimpse into the rhythm of life on tour, sharing moments from her personal camera roll that capture what unfolds both on and off the court at the Porsche Tennis Grand Prix in Stuttgart.

Few sports demand as much travel as tennis. From Miami to Stuttgart, on to Rome and Madrid, before returning to Paris at the end of May for the clay-court highlight of the season, Roland Garros, the calendar rarely slows down. The young player gives us an inside look at what tournament life really entails: sponsor commitments, catching up with fellow players, training sessions, and the in-between moments that often mean spending long stretches of time in yet another hotel.

The Stuttgart tournament stands out each year, both for fans and players alike. Time and again, the organizers succeed in bringing the biggest names on tour to the region. For Eva, the season hasn’t had the easiest start, marked by injuries and a series of narrow losses. But tennis is a sport that always offers another opportunity, another match, another tournament — a chance to turn things around is never far away. Eva has already shown what she’s capable of, proving that with her powerful and versatile game, she can challenge even the top seeds. With her keen sense of style, she’s also one to watch beyond the court, set to bring a distinct presence both in her performance and in how she carries herself.

Shot on her phone and paired with her own captions, The Personal Edit stays close to the tennis circuit — game, set, match.

one of the sexiest center courts

media day with Porsche

forever young in the Porsche Museum

test driving the new car with my little sister

Coco and I at the players’ party

the beauty of a clay court

me and my crush

the view doesn’t get better than that

sitting in a car that was gifted to Ferdinand Porsche

my all-time favorite

the interior speaks for itself

late-night walk after the match to find some pasta at 11:30 pm

little test drive with friends

all images
(c) Eva Lys

The Personal Edit of Samuel Bottomley: From Dundee to the Barras

#ThePersonalEdit

Samuel Bottomley Opens His Camera Roll From California Schemin’

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Samuel Bottomley shares a glimpse into his personal camera roll from the making of California Schemin'. Shot between Dundee, Glasgow and later festival stops, the images follow the intensity of a production built around performance, music and a tight-knit cast and crew.

Based on the true story of Scottish rap duo Silibil N’ Brains, the film moves between high-energy stage moments and the quieter reality of long shooting days, preparation and collaboration. Bottomley, who takes on one of the lead roles, documents that rhythm from within: first days on set, rehearsals, live crowd scenes, and the atmosphere shared with co-star Séamus McLean Ross and director James McAvoy. Shot on his phone and paired with his own captions, The Personal Edit stays close to the process — on set, on stage and in between.

This was the first day on set I think, definitely the first week up in Dundee and the first time I’d seen a proper directors chair with the directors name on it, so I had to get a pic. All the crew working hard in the background. It was such an exciting set to be on and all the crew really believed in the job too. I was working on a job in Scotland before this and, talking to some of the crew on that, it sounded like everyone up there was buzzing about the project.

Séamus McLean Ross outside the Barrowland. This was, for both of us, the most surreal and daunting time of our lives.

On stage at the Barras. As you can see, I’m so burnt out. Rapping in time while jumping around on stage and trying to give the biggest energy we could to hype up the audience was tough. However, being directed while being in front of 2000 people and having to perform “Superhero” is one of the coolest things I’ve ever done. Felt like a rockstar.

This was once we had finished and got all the shots we needed. James promised the crowd a big photo at the end and everyone had refrained from using their phones during the takes to keep it authentic to the period. We got this great picture to show for it.

This is me on the Easyrig. The DOP and I really got along, I had worked with his wife around a year or so before. I was being cheeky and asked if I could try it out in between a set up. I wasn’t expecting him to say yes and as you can see, I’m buzzing.

We walked into a room full of cardboard cut outs of ourselves. It’s mental just looking around seeing your face everywhere. Some of the stuff in there made great souvenirs to take home though, loads of CDs with our faces on, stickers, pens, hats, packets of Silibil n Brainz sweets. The set designers actually brought the cardboard cut outs to the wrap party and we took them around the next few pubs with us. On my way home I left one cut out of me lifting my skateboard up over my head like a weapon right outside my apartment and it stayed there for a few weeks after.

Séamus and I trying to get a cool pic of us from the monitor while the camera pointed at us.

Big pic. Kudos to all the incredibly talented and hard working crew, they brought it 100% everyday and I have so much respect for all of them. I’ve learned so much about film through just watching what they do and asking questions.

Lucy Halliday and James McAvoy leaving a breakfast spot in Toronto the day after our film premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival. So glad that I got this photo - these two just look so cool.

“Hey Lucy” what are the chances? Lucy put that jumper on after breakfast and it made my day.

Séamus and I after picking up a special mention award at Rome Film Festival for our performances in the film. It’s a massive honour to receive something like that and we were both so shocked, we didn’t expect it at all.

all images
(c) Samuel Bottomley

CHARLOTTE DAY WILSON *That Version that Stays Untouched

That Version of Charlotte Day Wilson that Stays Untouched

interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Charlotte Day Wilson continues to work from a place that remains closely connected to how she began, building songs in isolation and protecting that condition as a necessary part of her process. What started as a private space to explore her voice and identity without interruption still defines how she approaches music, requiring a level of focus where outside noise, expectations, and constant communication are pushed aside in order to reach a state where decisions come from within.

Charlotte wears a Vector jacket by CAMPILLO, a shirt and pants by WANGDA, a ring by AGMES, earrings by GRISÉ, and shoes by TWOGAA

For Patchwork, this way of working becomes more deliberate through repetition and revision, moving away from immediacy and toward a process that involves returning to songs multiple times, adjusting details, and testing whether they reach a point that feels fully resolved. Her earlier releases, including CDW, Stone Woman, Alpha, and Cyan Blue, already established a clear direction, but the most significant shift comes through her role as a producer, where growing confidence replaces previous doubt and allows her to define structure, pacing, and final decisions without relying on external validation. This position enables her to recognise that she is best suited to produce her own work, reinforcing a process that remains internally guided.

Collaboration stays part of her process, grounded in ease, mutual awareness, and working with people who know when to contribute and when to step back, creating a space where trust supports the work. Visual elements follow the music, with imagery and clothing developing from its tone, turning style into an extension of her language shaped by identity, perception, and the way she chooses to present herself in public. Her current direction moves toward a more reduced approach, with an interest in creating space within recordings and limiting the number of elements involved, allowing each sound to carry more weight without relying on density. This shift continues the logic that has defined her work so far, refining it through a more concentrated and controlled use of sound.

Charlotte wears a HELGA womens polo by CALVIN KLEIN COLLECTION and a necklace by GRISÉ

Charlotte wears a HELGA womens polo by CALVIN KLEIN COLLECTION, jogging pants by WANGDA, a necklace by GRISÉ, and Moto Boots 1.0 by SUNNI SUNNI

Alban E. Smajli
Looking back to the moment you started making songs alone in your room, what part of that early creative energy do you still try to protect today?

Charlotte Day Wilson
I think I still try to protect the aloneness of it. The feeling of uninterrupted exploration with oneself. It’s not always easy to truly be alone, even when you are alone. There are always creeping thoughts of other people, other music, texts and emails that need to be responded to, a friend you haven’t checked in on in a while. Tuning out all the noise and finding a flow state where none of that can penetrate your focus and it’s just you and the music.. I always hid who I was from the outside world so music became my sanctuary where I could express and discover myself. I protect that sanctuary with my life because I probably wouldn’t really have one if it weren’t for it.

Did you approach Patchwork differently than your earlier releases?

I approached Patchwork differently than the music I’d recently put out. I went back to the version that I was just talking about in the last question. Really indulging in myself, however long it takes. Deep focus, deep alone-ness, searching for magic and glorious lifts. On Cyan Blue, the approach was “first thought best thought” which was very fun. But this time I reconsidered a lot and repeated and repeated, adding slight variations, until I found the glory. If the glory never came, the song didn’t make the cut.

When you look back at CDW, Stone Woman, Alpha, Cyan Blue, and now Patchwork, what feels like the most important shift in your relationship with music?

I would say the most important shift in my relationship with music is my confidence as a producer. I needed this project to remind myself that I’m good at what I do. I lost the plot many times over the past few years, doubting that what I was making could possibly be good enough. I know now, that not only am I good enough, I am the best producer for my music.

What kind of creative chemistry do you look for when collaborating with artists like Kaytranada, BADBADNOTGOOD, or Saya Gray?

I look for ease. But most of all now, I look for people who empower me and I look for people who I want to empower. So much of the time our greatest critic is ourselves. Sometimes all you need is for someone like Saya to remind you you’re on the right track. A great producer knows when to intervene and when not to. This requires a tame ego, which is not always so present in this industry.

How do you feel when fragments of your music appear in songs by artists like Drake or John Mayer?

I think it’s incredible. Once my music is out in the world it takes on a life of its own and it always amazes me to see the unexpected places it goes.

Charlotte wears a jacket by WANGDA, a cropped shirt by CALVIN KLEIN, Arco pants by CAMPILLO, and boots by STONE ISLAND

Charlotte wears a uv-reactive hoodie by STONE ISLAND and a necklace by AGMES

“If Only” circles around the idea of moments just out of reach. Are there experiences in your life that continue to shape your writing years later?

Yes of course. A lot of the time when I’m writing I don’t even know who or what I’m writing about. I let my subconscious do the talking. Sometimes I won’t even realize until years later what my subconscious was trying to tell me, or what memory I was revisiting. I learn a lot about myself in the unraveling after a song is pulled out of me.

How important is the visual world around your music when you begin shaping a new project?

It’s important but it’s not everything for me. The music can often provide an answer to a visual question but not the other way around.

What role does clothing or style play for you when performing or creating visuals?

Clothing is very important to me. Like music, it’s a language that not everyone speaks. How we present ourselves in public says so much about how we want to connect or not connect with others. I always think about the very human desire to be accepted and I think clothing plays such a huge role in how we can achieve acceptance. I think that’s something a lot of people have a hard time being honest about when it comes to clothing but I know deep down it’s true for so many of us. It’s an expression of gender, of “class”, cultural identity, and the relationship we have between our body and our mind. On the days where I feel tired and lacking in personality, I might try dress better so that even though I’m a dud of a person that day, my odds of acceptance are higher with a nice outfit on. I think when I’m 60 I’ll start dressing without any concern for how my outfits impact others but for now I’m engaged in the social conversation of it all and I find it fun.

When you imagine the next phase after Patchwork, what kind of sonic territory feels exciting or still unexplored for you?

I get excited about the idea of extreme minimalism. Lots of air in a recording, less stacks of sound. I don’t think I’ve quite approached music like that yet and I want to try.

Charlotte wears an ASHLEY womens trench by CALVIN KLEIN COLLECTION, a shirt by WANGDA, and earrings by GRISÉ

talent CHARLOTTE DAY WILSON

seen TAKAHIRO OGAWA via FACTORY DOWNTOWN
stylist PACO LAMPECINADO
hair KELLY NOVOBIELSKI
make up MARIA ORTEGA via SOUTH JAMES
production MUSIC IS MUSE
creative direction TAKAHIRO OGAWA + PACO LAMPECINADO

The Personal Edit of Krista Papista: During the Making of Euro Divas

#ThePersonalEdit

Krista Papista Opens Her Camera Roll During the Making of Euro Divas

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Krista Papista shares fragments from her camera roll captured during the making of her recent album Euro Divas. Moving between a residency in the Czech Republic, travels across Asia, and the final stages in her Neukölln studio, her images trace a process moving across geographies, states of mind, and shifting identities.

Based between Berlin and Athens, Papista works across music, film, and performance, building a practice rooted in queer ritual, erotic mythology, and hybrid sound. Drawing from Cypriot, Greek, Middle Eastern, and Balkan influences, Euro Divas emerges as a layered world shaped by memory and transformation. Built from spontaneous snapshots and paired with her own reflections, The Personal Edit becomes a visual diary of creation — capturing the environments, bodies, and moments that fed into the album’s formation.

Journal of shows. Fusion festival, Art Explora, Schinkel Pavilion, Chauffer dans la Noirceur.

Stalagmites in the neighborhood, and a photo of my mums’s village Kythrea.

EURO DIVAS VINYLS ARE DONE AND SENT OVER TO ATHENS.

I started working on Euro Divas album in the Czech Republic. I did an art residency in the country side in the Czech Republic. The accommodation provided was in a monastery, I had the peace & privacy to devote myself to the album 100%. It was a sad little town, bordering Poland, some beautiful Baroque churches, I developed 40% of the album there. My track Heartmode was inspired by this fountain that I found on a wall in the monastery, they say you can only manifest what you want, when you are operating from Heartmode.

While traveling in Vietnam, I went in a Hare Krishna temple and found a photo of myself as baby goddess, I tried to get into it but I couldn’t. Vietnam was incredible.

BRIDGE IN FISH VILLAGE , EL NIDO PHILIPPINES.

The mandolin I played on Eurotrash.

I came back from traveling and finalized the production and mixing of my album in my studio in Neukölln. I was drinking about 3 bottles of Nature Energy a day, they don’t produce them anymore :/ why? Final stages of mixing took place in November, the whole of Berlin turns yellow and red.

WHERE I'M I.

all images
(c) Krista Papista

MYRIAM BOULOS *The Photographic Worlds

The Photographic Worlds of Myriam Boulos
Pas de mode d’emploi pour le chaos

interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

A city simmers beneath its own legends, the flavor of diesel and cardamom mixing with the hum of aftershocks and the slow unfurling of light across battered facades, and it is here that Myriam Boulos lifts her camera, not in search of the dramatic or the picturesque but to gather the residue of touch, the quiet accumulation of moments that cling to walls, slip through open doors, and root themselves in skin.

Myriam Boulos
Sexual Fantasies 2023

Myriam Boulos
Ongoing War, 2024

Beirut, compass and constant, shapes her visual language—a grammar built on light leaking around corners, voices echoing in courtyards, the thick air bending time, bodies weaving through memory and anticipation. Each photograph absorbs the density of this world, carrying the textures and temperatures of lived experience without the urge to isolate or resolve, every frame a continuous exchange, a movement toward feeling without the pressure of conclusion.

The Foam Paul Huf Award, long established as an amplifier for new photographic perspectives, acknowledges Boulos not through ceremony or simple recognition but by making space, a shift in the ongoing geography of the medium, allowing a current to pass from the streets of Beirut into the global bloodstream of image-making. The work circulates as a living archive, a collective diary shaped by encounters, complicity, and the urge to bear witness without reducing complexity to explanation.

Myriam Boulos moves with a certainty shaped by intuition, the city’s sound and temperature anchoring her practice even as the images begin to travel—entering new rooms, new languages, new ways of seeing. As she prepares her solo exhibition at Foam, the work assembles itself as an ecosystem, layering tenderness, unrest, desire, and refusal into a sequence that resists summary and insists on being felt. In these images, the right to feel is inhabited, lived, and sustained, and the city—her city—never steps outside the frame. The conversation that follows steps into this territory, unfolding through a landscape shaped by accumulation, intuition, and the enduring presence of feeling that moves steadily through each image and word.

Alban E. Smajli
You shoot in chaos, but your images feel calm. Is that contradiction intentional?

Myriam Boulos
Ouf, I never thought of my images as calm! It is funny because people also perceive me as a calm person, but in my head, things are anything but calm. Maybe my images are a way of exteriorizing and organizing my internal chaos?

Offline—does that word feel like a refuge, or a threat?

Both. It makes me dream of the idea of refuge, because I think most of us are addicted to the online world, but it also makes me think of the minutes right after the Beirut port explosion, when we were forcibly offline without understanding what was happening and without being able to reach our loved ones. It also makes me think of Gaza, which is forcibly offline on the worst nights of Israeli bombings during the ongoing genocide.

Offline can also suggest being disconnected from dominant systems or structures. Do you see your practice as a conscious step outside of what photography is "supposed" to be?

Honestly, I am not trying to fit or not fit into anything when I create images; I am just trying to be honest with myself. The images are encounters between my internal world and the universes of the people I photograph. But I do consciously and constantly deconstruct the medium of photography, which is historically colonial and patriarchal.

How do you decide what to show, and what to protect?

Being aware of the power of images and our responsibility as photographers, when I take risks, it is hand in hand with the people in the images: they are the ones who choose what they want to show or hide. From there, I usually follow my gut; I know when a picture is a big crush for me or not. I know if I want to share it with the world or not.

You mention that your images are also about the right to feel, to desire, and not be defined by normalized pain. What emotional truths are you most committed to revealing?

It is important for me to take space with our emotions in general. As a highly sensitive person, I always feel a lot, and this comes with the bad habit of trying to hide my emotions in order not to be “too much.” Photography is a way of channeling my emotions without feeling any shame. It is also important for me to document different types of emotions and realities as a way of defying Western media’s often stereotyped, reductive, and harmful representations of our region.

Myriam Boulos
Whats Ours 2019

Who are you photographing for?

For myself, for the people in the images, for people who will find themselves in these pictures, and for people who do not think like me.

Sexual fantasies, war, neuro divergence—your work isn’t afraid of complexity. What’s the one thing people always get wrong about it?

Complexity makes it difficult for people to put me in boxes. I think the person behind the images is one thing people tend to get wrong!

What’s the most fragile thing you’ve ever captured and what’s a picture you couldn’t take?

Wolfgang Tillmans said, “If one thing matters, everything matters.” I think everything is fragile and should be handled and photographed with care, tenderness, and consideration. The pictures I couldn’t take are the ones I take in my dreams. It is a particularly frustrating feeling to wake up and not have a trace or a proof. Max Kozloff said, “With photographs, we have concrete proof that we have not been hallucinating.” But dreams are real to me, and I wish I could keep pictures from this world, too.

Being the first artist from the Middle East to win the Foam Paul Huf Award is groundbreaking and makes you part of a global art conversation. Do you care about that? And what does it mean to take up space as a Lebanese artist—right now, in this global frame?

I am so grateful to be part of this global conversation. I think it’s the photography industry’s role to engage with as many photographers as possible from our region. There are so many talented photographers in the Middle East, and it is necessary to see our part of the world from different perspectives and not only through a few photographers.

Myriam Boulos
Whats Ours 2019

Myriam Boulos
Ongoing War 2023

Beirut is always present. Is it your subject, your background, or your collaborator?

I think Beirut is more like my anchor. I always feel like a little alien, but in Beirut I feel more grounded. The thick air, the contrasted light, the landmarks—my body feels at home here. I feel like this is where my roots are, this is where life is, and this is where I want to understand myself and share love with others.

You once said your photos are about tenderness. Has that changed?

I think tenderness is what I will always look for—in myself, in other people, in images.

You’ve been called a storyteller. Do you feel like one or more like a collector of moments?

I feel like I am more of a collective diary-teller, if that is a word! Or a collector of diaries in the context of collective histories and experiences. But I usually call myself a documentarist.

As you prepare for your solo exhibition at Foam in 2026, what kind of visual or emotional narrative are you hoping to construct?

I hope to put together already existing work in a new way, one that will make me learn things about myself, if that makes sense.

What do you hope someone 20 years from now will feel when they look at your work?

I just hope they will feel. Anything. I can’t choose what I provoke in people, but I would be sad if my images did not provoke anything. I also hope that it brings new perspectives to people who are not informed about some realities but still have preconceived ideas about them.

First published
LE MILE Offline Edition No. 39 FW25/26

courtesy for all images (c) Myriam Boulos
header image Ongoing War, 2024 photographed by Myriam Boulos

IZZY MEIKLE-SMALL * Between Television and Independent Film

Izzy Meikle-Small
Between Television and Independent Film


interview + written SARAH ARENDTS

Joining Outlander in its penultimate season places Izzy Meikle-Small inside a production that has been running for years, with an established cast, a fixed workflow on set, and an audience that follows the series closely. She appears as Rachel Murray, a character whose decisions are guided by her Quaker faith, which led Meikle-Small to spend time researching the community in detail and understanding how belief informs everyday behaviour. That work translates directly into the performance, shaping how the character speaks, how she reacts in conflict, and how she holds her position within scenes that carry multiple timelines and intersecting storylines.

Alongside this role, Meikle-Small continues to develop her own projects through producing. EMIKO JONES, a short film she produced, combines a bilingual narrative with elements of musical storytelling and was developed together with writer and director Hanako Footman. The production process required close involvement in creative and practical decisions, from structuring dialogue across two languages to managing the limitations of a low-budget shoot, resulting in a project that reflects her growing interest in shaping stories from the ground up.

This direction extends into her plans to direct her own short film while continuing to act, with a clear focus on independent productions where she can remain closely involved in performance and development. Feature-length work is part of that trajectory, with the intention to build projects that allow for sustained creative control across all stages of production.

Outlander episodes are being released weekly on Starz and MGM+.

Sarah Arendts
Looking back at your early years as a child actor, which experiences from that time still shape the way you approach your work today?

Izzy Meikle-Small
I think that stepping on your first set at such a young age inherently changes how you experience it. As a kid you still see acting as ‘going to work’ but it’s ultimately much more playful and less self conscious. Something in that remains in how I work. I wouldn’t say I was an unselfconscious person, but when I’m on set I do feel like that falls away in a specific way. I think that must be because of how I first experienced the environment.

With the eighth season of Outlander marking the end of a very long cultural phenomenon, how did it feel to step into such an established world and find your own space within it?

It’s definitely a little daunting to join later on in a series. They already had six seasons in the can so you know everyone will have very established relationships in the cast and crew, and that fans are very engaged and will have specific expectations. But to be honest, it couldn’t have been a better experience for me, on both sides. On set I was welcomed in with open arms, and made to feel at home very quickly, and the fans have been incredibly supportive, even from my casting announcement. It’s been a real privilege to get to join such an iconic show and be part of that story. 

What aspects of Rachel Murray’s worldview were most interesting for you to explore as an actor?

Rachel’s faith is hugely important to her character. It’s the core of who she is, how she makes her decisions, how she chooses to move through life. I didn’t know much about Quakers before starting the show, so getting to dig into researching the community was really interesting. Quakers are very cool! They were very progressive. Ultimately I think that her faith and her moral compass define her, almost moment-to-moment, and I’d never played a character who had such an external force influencing their decision making, so that was very interesting to balance.

With your upcoming guest lead appearance in Call the Midwife, what continues to draw you toward historical storytelling and period drama?

I think period dramas seem to choose me! I do love them, but I would love to wear a pair of jeans for a job one day… No but seriously, for Call the Midwife, I actually was drawn in by my character, Thelma. Her story arc is pretty gnarly, but ultimately ends in hope. I think that’s generally what draws me to a job, the character and their specific emotional arc. Call The Midwife is amazing at having guest roles that are very well rounded with very satisfying pay off.

Beyond acting, you are actively producing your own projects. At what point did you start feeling the need to shape stories from behind the camera as well?

I think it links back to me being a child actor. I grew up on sets, surrounded by all these people who were experts at their various crafts. I was in awe of them all, but didn’t really understand what any of them did. I wanted to understand filmmaking at every level, and I decided the best way to do that was to start making projects myself. While I was at University I helped out some friends on a couple of short films and then really got addicted. In the end, acting or producing, its all storytelling - it’s just different input & output.

With your short film Emiko Jones exploring a musical format across two languages, what interests you about projects that experiment with form or cultural perspective?

Emiko Jones got sent to me while I was filming the final season of Outlander. I remember thinking that I’d never read a short like it, and I had to do it. I knew it would be an ambitious short, especially on a low budget, but I just had to make it. Growing up I loved watching old school musicals, and I loved that this story was reclaiming that traditional genre for a more inclusive take. Bilingual films are becoming more and more popular, which I think is amazing. Being able to showcase different cultures in the mainstream is very important - and this film is all about feeling seen and understood, even if imperfectly. But for me the main draw to make this film, was the writer/director, Hanako Footman. She’s become a very close friend, and I think she’s a special talent. 

With Bedcrumbs approaching a failing relationship through queer comedy, what do you think humour can reveal about emotional situations that drama sometimes cannot?

Ross O’Donnellan the writer, is very good at black comedy and acerbic wit. His scripts fling dialogue back and forth like a tennis match. However, left in the wake of that humour is a very particularly sense of vulnerability. I think it’s well known that people use humour to deflect - whether that be sadness, insecurity, whatever! I think that the use of humour in this particular story, reveals more honesty of emotion than if it had been a straight drama. I always think it’s more interesting to let an audience figure out how they feel about something, rather than being told how to feel - and I think comedy is the perfect tool for that. Make them laugh, and then deliver a real gut punch.

As someone who moves between acting and producing, do you feel that one role changes the way you approach the other on set?

Definitely. I think now that I understand how a set runs, I can feel much more settled in my role as an actor. Sometimes it’s hard in the business of set to understand what’s happening - why we are delayed, why a camera change is taking a long time, why we’ve done 20 takes of the wide - and often in the not knowing you end up thinking it’s your fault - especially as a kid! It’s very freeing to understand when it is and isn’t you to blame. And then with producing, I’m made to think of the whole production from a perspective of serving the creative. It’s about the story, and telling it right. Rather than putting budget first, it’s always the creative for me (and also obviously coming in on budget!).

What kinds of stories or creative collaborations are currently exciting you the most as you think about the next phase of your work?

I’m looking to direct a short this year. It’s been on my mind for a while, and I feel like I’m ready to make that jump. I have another short I’m set to produce that we are currently seeking funding for too. But ideally I’d love to level up to something bigger scale. I’m not sure what that looks like yet. Maybe a feature? We will have to see. On the acting front, I’d love to do an independent feature. I think that’s where my heart lies as an actor and  as a producer. I started in films as a kid - long form TV has been an amazing learning curve, and I’d love to continue to do more - but I would really love to do a feature sometime soon.

talent   IZZY MEIKLE-SMALL
photography   BRENNAN BUCANNAN
styling   GRACE RADHAKRISHNAN
make up   NOHELIA REYES
pr   PROSPER PR

copyright LE MILE Magazine / Brennan Bucannan

Lamin LAMIN LEROY GIBBA *on The Twins at Maxim Gorki Theater and representation in Film and Theatre

Lamin Leroy Gibba Reframes Storytelling as a Question of Power and Inclusion

interview + written KLAAS HAMMER

Lamin Leroy Gibba stepped into the spotlight with „Schwarze Früchte“, a series he wrote himself and in which he also played the lead. Honest & Radical. „Schwarze Früchte“ is exactly that. With remarkable ease, it portrays what is still too often treated as an exception: queer and black lived realities.

Lamin wears a total look by Juun.J

Yet as effortless as it may appear on screen, the journey behind it was anything but simple. The series was the result of years of planning, patience, and an almost obsessive perfectionism - the kind of dedication only someone who truly feels their art can sustain. Sadly, the acclaimed show will not return for another season. But Lamin is far from standing still. Telling stories that create connection — between people, perspectives, and experiences. Yet despite his enthusiasm, he remains realistic about the industry. Representation is important, he says, but inclusion is even more important. “Who produces, who writes, who casts — all of that is crucial.” Diversity in front of the camera alone is not enough if the same decisions are still being made behind the scenes. “It’s about not only showing lived realities, but truly understanding them.”

Lamin wears a total look by GmbH

Klaas Hammer
Your new play The Twins is currently running at Berlin’s Maxim Gorki Theater. What is it about, and what kind of response were you hoping to evoke in the audience?

Lamin Leroy Gibba
The play centers on the murder between twin brothers and a screenwriter who becomes fascinated by the case. She wants to turn it into a film because she sees in it an allegory for structural violence. Beyond my interest in the characters themselves, I wanted to explore questions of truth and fiction — how both are constructed, artistically and socially. The play also looks at ideas around interpretive authority and regimes of perception.

With everything I make, I try to create spaces where audiences can engage with themselves and larger questions, while hopefully feeling both challenged and entertained by it. I’m not aiming for one specific reaction. Ideally, there are as many interpretations as there are audience members.

You were part of the “Jury of the Berlinale Talents Mastercard Enablement” at the Berlinale — what was that experience like for you, especially considering that you’re still very young and, in a sense, a talent yourself?

It felt very special to be part of this year's jury. The selected filmmakers are all building pathways for change within their communities, through educational programs, improving access to resources, or film production opportunities.

Meeting them and learning about their projects was a reminder of how naturally storytelling, organizing, and community-building intersect. Both the projects and the program itself also highlight the profound inequalities that many communities around the world are affected by.

What do you hope for in 2026 — personally and for society as a whole?

In a time marked by multiple global crises, I believe the work and voices of artists are evermore important. Storytelling and art have always been ways to reflect on the world, to question oppressive structures, and to imagine alternative futures. Showing up and engaging in that work to the best of my ability feels meaningful to me.

As for society — that’s a big question. I’m wary of sounding cliché. But in the face of increasing division and dehumanizing rhetoric, I think it’s vital to remind ourselves of our shared humanity. To stay curious about experiences and realities that differ from our own. Art — both creating it and experiencing it — can be a powerful tool in that process.

Lamin wears a coat by Juun.J, a blazer and pants by Karl Lagerfeld, and gloves by H&M Studio

photography   LEON NEVILL GALLAGHER
styling + words   KLAAS HAMMER
talent   LAMIN LEROY GIBBA
assistant   IVA COŞKUN
copyright LE MILE Magazine / Leon Nevill Gallagher for LE MILE Magazine

BILL KAULITZ *That’s Bill Kaulitz: Offline, Unfiltered, and Entirely Present

That’s Bill Kaulitz
Offline, Unfiltered, and Entirely Present

The Algorithm Has Left the Chat—Bill, a Pink Swimsuit, and the Real Headline


interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Something about Bill Kaulitz disrupts all expectations about fame, he moves with a kind of impulsive certainty, always spinning a little outside the expected choreography. Once the ringleader of a hair-gel-fuelled teen frenzy, he now fills his days with dogs, spontaneous notes, late-night Instagram DMs, the second season of Kaulitz & Kaulitz playing out on Netflix, and the kind of wardrobe decisions that started early—long before anyone was watching, when he swapped trunks for a friend’s pink swimsuit on a crowded beach, discovering the addictive thrill of attention before he had words for performance.

Bill wears total look by VERSACE

Bill wears a total look by VERSACE and shoes by SCAROSSO

If his closet could talk, it would offer up a mess of confessions about last-minute fashion choices, impulsive adventures, and those secret, tangled stories that happen only after the city has gone to sleep—always accomplice, each garment a collaborator in Bill’s ongoing refusal to blend in or apologize. Recklessness and vulnerability orbit together here, just as Bill embraces every emotion fully—choosing to feel loneliness, joy, and even loss in their sharpest forms, collecting experiences the way some people collect shoes.

Remove the endless scroll, mute the digital noise, and Bill remains someone searching for real connection, content to swap the feed for the company of friends, the calm of jazz, the comfort of champagne, and the gentle presence of his French bulldog, Alfia. There’s always another scribbled note or whispered Maus for the people who matter, secrets layered beneath eyeliner and tucked into diaries, never needing an audience, only the satisfaction of having lived every minute wide open. Bill drags his own weather with him, shrugs off nostalgia the way most people dodge last season’s trends, refuses to archive any version of himself unless it’s handwritten and hidden somewhere even the algorithm can’t reach. He exists in a loop of invention and desire, never looking back, never asking permission, just rerouting the atmosphere every time he walks into the room. Never watered down, never apologizing, so entirely present you half-suspect the world’s only just now learning to keep pace.


Bill wears a sweater and bag by HERMÈS, belts, gloves, and trousers by 032C, and shoes by SCAROSSO

Alban E. Smajli
If you had to live in a world without mirrors or cameras, how would you define your identity?


Bill Kaulitz
Just through instinct I guess! I've always trusted my instinct. Laughter too! I'm generally a very positive person. My biggest traits are being quirky, spontaneous and ambitious, I’d say. 


Do you remember the very first time a mirror winked back at you and said, “Yes, babe, this is it”? What were you wearing?


OMG. That could have been very early on. When I was about 5 years old and my mom took us to the beach, I decided to wear the pink swimsuit of my friend Katharina, instead of my boring trunks that every boy wears. So we swopped. I felt super alive and loved the attention from all the people starring at me. I always loved to stand out and break rules. I guess that started at a very young age.

If your closet could speak like a moody ex, what secrets would it spill about you?


That I don't doubt my fashion choices a lot, even if I maybe should. I don't think too much. I'm super fast and trust my gut when it comes to clothes. I'm really not a diva, even if sometimes i'd wanna be. It would probably also say that I've been in here with more than just one guy having sexy fun. When you're out of the closet it can be pretty fun to go back in ...hahaha.

How do you actually handle loneliness? The kind that doesn’t get filtered through reels or drowned in airport noise?

I don't! I give in to the feeling! I love to feel all the feels and loneliness can also make you feel alive. I think the worst feeling you can have, is to feel nothingness or jaded or numb. As long as you feel loneliness every once in a while, you know you are living and still have a fire burn inside you that has longing and a craving for connection and people. I gotta admit I'm doing pretty good on my own. I hardly ever feel lonely but I think that's because I have an identical twin. I even go on vacation alone all by myself. It's the best. 


Bill wears a sweater by 032C, a jacket and trousers by HERMÈS, and shoes by MARSÉLL

Bill wears a shirt by ARKET and a coat by JOSEPH

What do you think you would miss the most if there were no social media or mobile networks today?

The inspiration that comes from it. I'm a very visual person so I love photography, architecture, fashion and the access to all of it with just a fingertip. Also I would miss my number one flirting and dating tool. Haha. Cause I date mostely through Instagram.


If you could ghost one memory forever, digitally and emotionally, what would you delete?


The death of my two doggies. That was very hard on me. I'm an animal lover and my dogs were like my kids. The way they both passed was very sudden, way too early and unexpected. That's a memory that I'd like to forget. But I'm not one who lives with regrets, so I can't really think of anything else I'd like to forget.

How would you go about dating if you had to do it completely offline today?

I would probably party even more than I do now. I love to go out and meet new people through mutual friends or just strangers at a rave. I love to have a good drink at a bar and make friends. Thats the best! I also love house parties, birthdays and my favorite are weddings. I always end up with someone at a wedding.

Bill, imagine being offline without any technology or social media, how do you cope with just being alone with yourself?

Could I still watch TV?

Of course, TV is still offline

I love movies and old TV shows. Thats like therapy for me and calms me a lot. If I wouldn’t have a TV either I would probably lay out by the pool with a good bottle of champagne, listen to jazz music and play with my doggie Alfia. I adopted her a year and a half ago. Shes a little merle frenchie and my absolute everything.

When was the last time you wrote something with your actual hand? Like pen, paper, no autocorrect?

Not that long ago. I wrote a love letter to fashion for a big magazine very recently. I love writing by hand. I do it every day. I have a little scribble book where I write in every day. Just notes and stuff I can't forget. Also all the notes for my weekly podcast are always handwritten and I keep all of them..

Let’s imagine you had kept a diary in 2006, what do you think would surprise people most if they read a page from it today?

That I was hiding a lot of secrets and pain behind those perfectly smokey eyes.

Bill wears a total look by LEVI’S, a brooch by JW ANDERSON, a bracelet by HERMÈS, and shoes by MARSÉLL

photography   CHRISTOPHER PUTTINS
stylist   ARKADIUSZ SWIETON
hair & make up artist   PATRICK GORRA
set stylist   NICI THEUERKAUF
photography assistant   MORITZ HILKER
styling assistant   LEA ISABELL UHLE
copyright LE MILE Magazine / Christopher Puttins for LE MILE Issue 39 "OFFLINE", FW2025/26 Edition

The Personal Edit of Henry Ashton: Between Westeros and London

#ThePersonalEdit

Henry Ashton Opens His Camera Roll From A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Henry Ashton opens his personal camera roll during the release of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. Stepping into the role of Daeron Targaryen, a greenseer navigating visions of past and future, Ashton enters the expanding world of Game of Thrones at a decisive narrative moment.

Between filming days, costume fittings, late-night script sessions and the anticipation surrounding the weekly episodes, his images document the atmosphere from within. Shortly after, he returns to screens in A Good Girl's Guide to Murder, marking another key chapter in his trajectory.

Built from spontaneous snapshots on his phone and paired with his own captions, The Personal Edit offers an intimate, behind-the-scenes glimpse into a rising actor’s world at the height of release momentum.

Unfortunately I never got to do any sword training on the project, due to Daeron being a pretty ineffectual knight. But, during a horse ridding lesson, I got to see Pete and C.C do their thing.

This is me getting a mould of one side of my face. Turns out getting your ear chopped off is quite an involved process.

We went through quite a few different looks for Daeron, mostly with shorter hair. But eventually Pippa Woods decided on this one. I thought the greasy, long, Kurt Cobain-esque hair was perfect for him.

Ser Steffon Fossoway, played by the incredible Edward Ashely, getting up close and personal with the dragon puppet.

Pete and his weights.

This photo of the amazing Finn Bennett makes me laugh. From the waist down he’s ready to ride into battle. But up top, he’s ready for party party in Berlin.

Shaun and Pete practising lines. I love this photo as it sums up their relationship on and off camera. Just two friends helping each other out.

Quite simply, the best wrap gift I have ever been given.

Ed and Finn deep in a very tense game of chess. I forget who won. Probably Ed. The man’s a menace.

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(c) Henry Ashton

The Personal Edit of Justus Riesner: Berlinale 2026

#ThePersonalEdit

Justus Riesner Opens His Camera Roll From Berlinale 2026

written + styled KLAAS HAMMER

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Justus Riesner shares a glimpse into his personal camera roll from the Berlinale 2026. In Germany’s capital, he moved between film premieres, Prime Video’s “A Night to Remember” event, agency meetings, and an afterparty with Charli XCX, collecting impressions along the way and crossing paths with colleagues as well as international stars.

Having trained at the USC School of Dramatic Arts in Los Angeles, he first gained wide recognition through the hit series Maxton Hall – The World Between Us. A devoted film lover, he enjoys not only watching movies but also debating them and he clearly thrives in his profession. Maxton Hall was just the beginning for Justus - let’s see what this year will bring for him.  Built from spontaneous snapshots on his phone and combined with his reflections, The Personal Edit becomes an intimate chronicle of the Berlinale — capturing fleeting encounters, quiet in-between moments, and the unmistakable atmosphere of the festival through his own lens.

fitted in mm6 margiela for my first event with prime video

posed on red carpets and flirted with the press

everything is accompanied by my talented friends

and lots of bling bling
/@benfelipe

klaas got me margielaaaasssss

bad for the body, good for the soul. berlin in february demands controversial ways to remain sane

cos meets jimmy choo

this week’s form of transport consists of uber XLs and mini vans
/with @benfelipe + @runa_goes_luna

where arthouse auteurs meet haute couture

attended „the moment“ after party with charli xcx and a special appearance by the one and only gaspar noé omggg

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seen by @hustlebush

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(c) Justus Riesner

The Personal Edit of Ewens Abid: Paris Fashion Week FW26

#ThePersonalEdit

Ewens Abid Opens His Camera Roll From Paris Fashion Week FW26

written LE MILE

For this edition of The Personal Edit, Ewens Abid opens his personal camera roll from Paris Fashion Week FW26. Moving between fashion shows, late-night gatherings and long walks through the city, Abid documents Paris as he experiences it: attentive, curious and instinctive.

Known for his roles in Andor and as Jonathan Harker in Dracula directed by Luc Besson, he shifts seamlessly between cinema and fashion culture, carrying the same sensitivity into both worlds.
Presented through images taken directly from his phone and paired with his own captions, The Personal Edit becomes a visual diary of fleeting moments, encounters and atmospheres that define Paris during Fashion Week — intimate, unfiltered and entirely his own.

When wandering through the streets of Paris and getting lost, the walk unexpectedly led to art and a small coincidence: Rue Léon. Léon: The Professional, starring one of my favourite actors, Jean Reno, directed by Luc Besson, whom I happened to work with not long ago on Dracula.

First event done, it was time to relax and enjoy a good old catch-up with friends, while admiring passers-by in their Paris Fashion Week best.

Madly in love with Paris’ café culture. Just know that when you order a coffee here, a single espresso lands on your table. Espresso. What else?

Let’s just say that one hit the spot just right.

The red carpet at a fashion event, like the TATRAS AW26 Paris Fashion Week presentation, carries its own kind of charge. You simply step into it.

I always like to go to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre. The architecture, the view, the sense of calm — a perfect place after a busy day.

It wouldn’t feel like Fashion Week without a party or two. Cutting shapes with friends, soaking up the vibrant atmosphere of Paris by night.

The Magliano FW26 show was jaw-dropping. The excitement and suspense before it began gave way to a strong, elegant, dynamic performance — and within ten minutes, months of preparation, hard work, and chaotic commitment came to a close.

Coming home to a Shiba Inu, one-on-one. First, the side-eye of “Where have you been?”, then an hour of attitude, and finally a little “I’ll cuddle, but I’m still mad at you.”

I had the chance to meet photographer Cedric Terrell for a street shoot, and we had a blast. For me, the best part of any shoot is the casual conversation along the way. I find meeting new people fascinating — everyone has a different story to tell.

photo: Cedric Terrell

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(c) Ewens Abid

header image Cedric Terrell