It’s been a while since I last posted, but I like to think I’m still new(ish) to the Substack game, which also means trying to be consistent. Consistency, here, is more about not letting this project die – and not feeling the writer’s guilt if I go a bit quiet for a bit. We’ve all been there.

I’ve got my own reasons for the lack of posting here, mostly all Fashion Week-related. I attended a few shows in London, saw a lot of beautiful and inspiring stuff, and was also full-time reporting on the Milan and Paris catwalks.

On that note, here are all of the links to my Autumn/Winter 26 coverage for Behind the Blinds.

• Miu Miu A/W 26 - access if you like the female gaze, timeless it girls, clothes that last.
  

• Kiko Kostadinov A/W 26 – click if you’re into birdwatching and garments actually made for (and by) women.
  

• Louis Vuitton A/W 26 – Fans of big hats, nature-inspired fashion and a bit of futurism, this one is for you.
  

• Polo Ralph Lauren A/W 26 - perfect to ditch the Pinterest board and use it for great styling and everyday inspo.
  

• Vivienne Westwood A/W 26 - a bit of history, a bit of drama, and an OG Westwood bride to wrap things up.
  

• Jean Paul Gaultier A/W 26 - western meets boudoir meets desirable tailoring.
  

• Comme des Garçons A/W 26 - an all-black catwalk, but not really. Long live Rei Kawakubo!!!!
  

• Balenciaga A/W 26 - darker than the first, here is Pierpaolo Piccioli’s second collection for the brand.
  

• Rick Owens A/W 26 - an army of cool creatures, ready to face the apocalypse.
  

• ALAINPAUL A/W 26 - ballet-inspired shapes and fluidity, plus some fab opera gloves.
  

• GCDS S/S 26 - cheeky and fun fashion to step away from quiet luxury.
  

• Giorgio Armani A/W 26 - on the opposite side of the spectrum, the classic girls are always well fed with Armani.

See you next time!

The whole “Is 2026 the new 2016?” trend, however, hit me unexpectedly. No, 2026 is definitely not the new 2016, unless we are speaking of fascist-adjacent governments and anti-immigration policies, which now seem very similar to what they were 10 years ago. 2026 is not the new 2016 because, post-pandemic, with TikTok and in the midst of AI, everything feels too quick to even be fully experienced like it was a decade ago.

From ultra-fast fashion clothes to the 2x sped-up videos we watch nonstop, from the pile of books we don’t read because our brains don’t seem to be capable of taking in information, to the need to come up with new slang every couple of weeks, from the pressure to have a medically enhanced body to the urgency of achieving a filler-faced look as soon as possible. Everything seems harder, faster, stronger – but not necessarily better.

This post from @byooooob gives it another perspective. It basically reflects on how “wrong” it should feel to get nostalgic about a life that happened just 10 years ago, when most generational cycles used to be experienced every 20 years instead. It also talks about how things tended to feel easy back then if you are a young millennial or older Gen Z: not because they were actually simpler, but because we were simply young(er).

The nostalgia talk made an impact on how, after a few years of not paying that much attention to it, I finally want to go more analogue. For starters, I would love to read books again, a habit I lost from 2020 onwards due to forced social distancing and too much doom scrolling.

I have also considered buying a boombox radio, like the one I had in the early 2000s, and I have enjoyed looking at my Polaroid prints much more than organising an iPhone digital archive. Sign of the times.

It’s not just me, I know!

This shift is more than a coincidence or individual experience. It’s only natural that, because of our current unstable climate and as a consequence of excessive technology being spoonfed to us unsolicitedly, we move towards the comforts of what we’ve seen (used, loved, worn, watched) before. Connected to all of it is, unfortunately, the rise of conservatism, but that’s another conversation for another time.

In fashion, the need for more human touch has already started to spark, with luxury brands championing craftsmanship like never before. Matthieu Blazy, at his first Chanel show, and Louise Trotter, debuting at Bottega Veneta, swapped jobs but remained very connected to each brand’s historically more artisanal values during SS26.

This week, Prada showcased a menswear fall/winter 2026 collection which celebrated pieces that endure and evolve, but with this so-called awareness of the past as its motto. Dirty cuffs, skinny suits, and signs of wear in coats and jackets embodied the idea.

I came across two very good videos on Prada and the latest menswear shows. First, writer and consultant Maite Aramayo’s (@sugarlesscoat) analysis:

Followed by Dylan Kelly’s (@dylkelly) comments on the Prada show:

Outside luxury and bringing the human touch factor to our day-to-day wear, a resurgence of maximalism after the quiet luxury dominance online is also expected.

I cannot predict the future, but with luck…

Archival pieces will be the true fashion holy grail; artisanal and independent design brands will finally get more attention, and anything rich in detail—embroidered, beaded, crocheted, or clearly handmade—will shine.

Editorials that steer clear of AI, like the one with Elle Fanning for Who What Wear brought up in this last newsletter, will be more and more appreciated, as creator and trend forecaster Mandy Lee explained in this video.

Fashion and personal styling inspo gathered from non-fashion-related references, from true vintage or from other media will equally be praised. Designer and artist Afaf Fi Seyam (@zeopatra) does that in her great How to Not Be Boring binge-watching series.

More IRL encounters will decrease dating apps’ popularity, and print publications will resurge as credible and must-have sources of knowledge. Community will take over individualistic, self-centred wellness and lifestyle ideas, and car boot sales and curated closet clearout events will become more of a thing.

None of this is proven; it’s more wishful thinking, I’d say. Last weekend, I even bought a mini crossword book to serve as a main screen-free pastime. Let us dream.

See you next time xx

I've kept this newsletter as an unpublished personal project for far too long. The template was finished for ages, and I had a list of possible names secretly living in my notes app, together with other ideas that might never become tangible (or they will; you never know).

Somewhere in 2023, I remember chatting with two friends and telling them I wanted to publish a fashion newsletter. They promptly encouraged me, but for some reason, I never brought the topic back.

A bit of self-doubt—the fear of being perceived by an online audience of friends, acquaintances, and people who will never get to know me for real—plus a spiralling-minded nature kept me from just publishing this and seeing what happens.

Aiming to be less of an overthinker (and more of a thinker, iykyk), I posted here for the first time on December 30th, sharing my thoughts on New Year’s resolutions.

Okay, but who is she?

Not me wanting to turn this into a LinkedIn profile, but I feel the need to add some context to it all with a brief intro, even though there are already two other posts published here. I’m Ketlyn. I was born in São Paulo. I live in London, and as of January 2026, I am 31 (millennial pause… I mean, panic).

I was experiencing the peak of 2016 as a Stan Smith/green-parka-wearing 21-year-old; I was on Tumblr, on We Heart It (r.i.p. diva), and actively posting my sepia-filtered avocado toasts in the very beginnings of Instagram. For context, 2016 was not a great year, and that’s perhaps why I’ve been struggling to romanticise it.

I had a photoblog in the early 2000s and tried to engage with Medium, aka Substack’s Zoomer daddy, during my primal writing days. TikTok would say I qualify for a facelift, but I just wanted to establish: I’ve always been very much online.

I’m also a journalist who has been working for a while with all types of imaginable content. My favourite topics, though, have 99% of the time been connected to fashion. I now write for a few independent publications, do a bit of work in trend forecasting, and cover fashion weeks.

After wanting it for as long as I can recall, about two years ago, I finished a master’s degree in Fashion Communication at Central Saint Martins. I tend not to be nonchalant about it, especially considering how few Latin Americans are inserted in those spaces – it’s slowly getting better, but still – and how much investment (financial and personal) was required for it to happen. The course was a huge achievement for me, and I will never take it for granted. If you’re doing something similar, neither should you.

I chose to name the newsletter Wearing and Tearing because fashion, to me, is this huge umbrella that shields a whole universe of subjects. It can be about the experience of wearing clothes and reflecting on your personal style choices, and how that is constantly changing as you also change. It can be about a subject often considered shallow or vain by others, yet fundamental to your identity. It can be about tearing your garments apart in the midst of a wardrobe crisis or about tearing up a little whenever you want to quit a fashion-centred career. It can be about the wear and tear of something you don't want to give away but feel you should. You’ve got the gist.

Should we even care this much?

Well, I do. And, as dramatic as this may sound, fashion—not luxury nor consumption—has always been a part of who I am. From playing dress-up and rehearsing my best Gisele catwalk in my childhood bedroom to when something shifted in my brain because I had the privilege to attend a fashion show for the first time. From proudly wearing my grandma’s clothes after she passed (another thing I refuse to shut up about) to when I got accepted into my dream fashion school. From giving fashion advice and seeing how an outfit change boosted the mood of some of my closest friends completely, to getting to talk to new designers and interviewing fashion journalists I look up to. I could ramble about this nonstop.

Basically, this space is a reminder of why fashion was and still is a big deal in my life. Every time I tried to drift away from it, something always brought me back. I’m setting my intentions to stay in the loop.

I will, however, allow myself to be contradictory here for a second. Despite all that has been said, sometimes fashion is just about wearing clothes and having fun. It doesn’t have to be that deep. It's always good to keep the state of the world in mind and stick to your beliefs. We’re not saving lives.

Same time next week?

This is just a late introductory post so you can get to know me a bit better, but it's also my first time navigating the Substack world with some consistency. I will do my best to publish here every week (or every other week), no promises.

Share this with someone you think will enjoy it, and if you’re up for it, subscribe for free. I appreciate the support. If you have any questions, ideas or want to kindly give me feedback, you are more than welcome. Any sort of hate comment is a sign that maybe you should go work on yourself: try to reduce your screen time, get a hobby, go for a walk; the world is your oyster!

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Before our goodbyes…

Occasionally, you will always find some recommendations at the end of the newsletter. I’ll leave you with a three today.

• A five-star content piece: Still can’t get enough of New York City’s First Lady Rama Duwaji’s profile by Danya Issawi for The Cut, published less than a month ago. Such a good read and a breath of fresh air with so much horrible US-related news.

• An editorial you should pay attention to: Visually kind of similar to Duwaji’s editorial, Elle Fanning for Who What Wear is one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen recently.

• A piece of clothing/accessory I’ve been obsessed with: I found a pair of leather gloves lined with cashmere for £15 at a local charity shop. And they are as green as they could possibly be!!!! Call me Elphaba (or Shrek), but I’ve been loving wearing them with animal print or a full black look.

If you’ve made it this far, congrats on the impressive attention span. I’ll see you next time xx

The pearl necklace, which lived in the box occasionally, oftentimes embellished her elegant figure, paired with patterned silk button-up shirts, knitted embroidered cardigans, or colourful power suits. It was her go-to piece, as portrayed in both the old photo I now stare at with admiration and in most of the memories I hold on to from our 24 years existing together, wishing there was more to experience in her company.

Her nails were always varnished, and a lipstick inside the handbag for touch-ups was mandatory. She was a natural. Gilda, my maternal grandmother, who left this world in 2018 at the age of 87, was my first living example of how fashion can be a form of self-expression and how clothes and accessories can become timeless even after one is gone.

With a forward-thinking mindset despite being from 1930, my grandmother was a true friend, and it regularly surprised me how I could have a conversation with her about anything, without judgment or conservatism. Quite the opposite, she would encourage me to pursue my financial independence and enjoy my youth, with some praise whenever, as a young adult, I decided to rock a mini skirt.

From Brazil but with Italian descent – and an Italian lifelong husband – she mixed elements from both cultures in her looks, coupling tropical prints with classic leather shoes and bags, bridging Brazilian gemstone necklaces and earrings with quintessential tailored trousers.

As a kid, I once watched a TV show episode about Coco Chanel’s legacy in fashion, which showcased a famous portrait of the French couturière. I never got the chance to ask my grandmother what she thought about Chanel. I remember, however, how similar the image was to the one I’m currently writing about – the angle, the hair, the beautiful, strong features, and the pearls. Perhaps that’s why, in my early life brain, I felt as if I had my own version of a sophisticated Chanel-like woman in the family, with privileged access to her wardrobe.

After my grandmother died, I went through her closet and had a thorough look at her extremely well-kept fashion pieces, some of which I inherited and brought with me to the UK. Unfortunately, the prominent pearl necklace was stolen this year when someone broke into my parents’ house (a story for another time).

An emerald green ring that used to inhabit the same jewellery box, and therefore I’d love to wear as a little girl, is now more than just part of my childhood novelty, composing a priceless personal collection along with other items.

There is also a silver ring that I don’t take off, an embroidered beige purse with golden strings worn at my brother’s wedding, two heavy wool coats that need repairs but have been helping me face London’s cold weather, a couple of shirts for whenever I want to master a vintage look, and an unforgettable – in other relatives’ words – purple suit with matching trousers.

She used to wear the latter at an older age, saving it for birthday parties and family events. When I had the chance to travel to New York for the first time as a fashion journalist, about a year after she passed away, the purple suit came with me and made the whole experience even more meaningful.

Not by chance, when I feel like I need a confidence boost, I reach out to at least one of my grandmother’s pieces, which I look after with my heart and soul, and don’t plan to stop wearing. It reminisces about how powerful her presence used to be and the multiple lives and styling possibilities we can give to our loved ones’ clothes.

Mostly, it reminds me of how I will always see my “Vó Gilda,” as I used to call her, as an eternal role model – my first and foremost fashion icon.

A lot of the work done at university often ends up never being revisited, so I am trying to make public some of my favourite tasks from the course. Once upon a time, I turned this piece into a TikTok, too – no shame!!!!!

In a moment of supposed clarity, in December last year, I decided to put together a “what were the good things that I got to experience or notice this year, despite knowing from the start it was not a good one” type of list. I wrote down everything that came to me on the same evening, from attending a Charli XCX BRAT tour concert to seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time, from getting good news about loved ones after some seriously scary ones to making a new friend as an adult.

Entering 2025, besides a New Year’s resolutions list that was barely completed (and that’s okay!!!), I kept the habit. Every end of the month, I would sit down with my notebook and list everything that helped me snap out of the pessimist mindset, which I am unfortunately so easily drawn to. The list didn’t have to be about either “things I am grateful for” (although I must admit that’s another pretty effective exercise) or the most amazing achievements of the month. Quite the opposite, it mostly involved spending quality time with people I care about. No shit.

I noticed a pattern: from January to December, there was always a coffee with a friend, a chat with someone I hadn’t seen in a while and got to have quality time with, an unexpected visit from someone who lives across the ocean. Being present with my partner. Showing London around to my parents. Holding my nephew for the first time ever. Getting flowers from a friend who knew I had a bad day. Feeling like myself again.

I am deeply sceptical of self-help content (however, I do enjoy a good bit of astrology and tarot reading), and I don’t expect to make a point capable of shifting everyone’s views of their personal lives, but admittedly, listing the good kind of makes you notice the good. Never shutting my eyes to the messed-up world we live in, but trying to find a bit more balance, maybe.

There are a few things I want to leave in 2025, but the monthly lists are coming with me to 2026. Putting more effort into this newsletter has been a resolution for the past two years, though. Maybe I should start listing why I think it matters.

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This is mostly a newsletter about fashion, but it won’t always be. I hope you stick with me.