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Some Interesting Articles On Fashion

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The Oscars After-Hours

By Sarena Sambo

If you haven’t forgotten already, the Academy Awards took over Sunday night with its usual mix of cinematic prestige, emotional speeches, and impeccably styled red-carpet moments.

But while the awards celebrated film's excellence, the real style evolution happened later that evening.

Here in the NYFG Newsletter, we’ve already recapped the Golden Globe Awards and the Grammy Awards, but the Oscars operate on a different level.

Beyond the ceremony itself, the night unfolds into one of the most anticipated fashion moments of the year: the Vanity Fair Oscar Party.

It’s where the guest list expands beyond nominees and winners, blending Hollywood names of influencers and cultural icons.

And unforgettably, where the dress code shifts from traditional black-tie formality to expressive, after-hours glamour.

And that’s really where the night starts to feel different.

The ceremony is carefully choreographed, but the Vanity Fair party has a looser kind of glamour.

People are still dressed impeccably, but the pressure eases for these actors.

Instead of strictly formal interviews and rehearsed soundbites, personalities like Quen Blackwell and Jake Shane brought a different kind of energy.

Their interviews felt fast, playful, and genuinely entertaining.

It was the kind of moment that made you stop scrolling because you’re not sure what’s going to be said next.

Throughout the night, you could spot a mix of styles; some guests leaned into timeless, traditional looks while others chose outfits that felt more playful or unexpected.

That’s really the appeal of an after-party carpet as major as the Vanity Fair Oscar Party.

Personally, some of my favorite looks came from the men.

It’s always interesting to see how they interpret formalwear beyond the standard tuxedo formula.

Whether that means experimenting with tailoring, adding subtle statement pieces, or keeping things simple but sharply styled.

The variety made the night feel less predictable and a lot more reflective of individual taste.

And honestly, that’s what makes the Vanity Fair after-party worth watching every year.

It’s still glamorous, still exclusive, still very much an Oscars tradition; just with a little more freedom to have fun with it.

By the end of the night, the awards may be over, but the style conversation is just getting started.

If you want an even closer look at the night’s standout fits (and a few questionable ones), make sure to check out our Red Carpet Roast: Reg Reacts to Oscars Fits, now live across NYFG socials.

Reg Reacts to Oscars Fits

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A SINGULAR TAKE ON FASHION

Cufflinks? Seriously? Why the Smallest Accessory Can Make the Biggest Statement

By Nick Whittle

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"Ties are in a fun era again…predicting a return of tie clips and cufflinks as serious contenders in the accessorising conversation."

So said Nico Amarca, former GQ editor turned stylist, in 2025.

If you read my last piece (you did, didn't you?), you'll know I agree.

But let's pause on the context.

After years of oversized experimentation and the "Great Suit Collapse" of 2020–2024 - where the only acceptable attire was a gilet and a vague sense of entitlement - the industry is finally pivoting back to "clothes that actually fit."

Cufflinks, it turns out, are part of that precision. They are also one of my favourite vices, and I am stoked that the wheel is turning full circle.

When British GQ asked Sir Paul Smith what single garment he'd rescue from a fire, he didn't hesitate.

Not his navy suit. Not his favourite waistcoat. His cufflinks.

"They're the one piece of clothing I couldn't live without" he told Teo van den Broeke in February 2026.

His signature multicolour-stripe motif, crafted in brass with enamel detailing, represents what he calls "a tiny but essential canvas" for adding personality to an otherwise classic suit.

It is a telling moment.

In an era where we've spent years debating whether ties are dead, whether suits are obsolete, or whether the entire formalwear ecosystem belongs in a museum, Smith's instinct is to reach for the smallest, most intimate detail of dressing.

A man who saves his cufflinks is a man who understands that the devil is not just in the details - he is the details.

I wear French cuffs with links all the time.

Apart from button-down shirts, which I reserve for weekends and the occasional "casual Friday" (a term that has lost all meaning since 2020), my default is the double cuff.

It's not affectation; it's habit.

The ritual of folding the cuff back, threading the metal or silk through the thick fabric, and adjusting it to perfection

takes thirty seconds.

It changes how you feel.

It is the sartorial equivalent of putting on a seatbelt: unnecessary for the short hop to the kitchen, but essential for the journey.

My "go-to" pairs are a job lot of fifty Turkish knot cufflinks in silk, plain and multi-coloured.

I bought them from a Chinese manufacturer via Alibaba.

Not a particularly romantic provenance, I grant you, but they are inexpensive, replaceable, and perfect for when I want to add a flash of colour without committing to something precious.

I can lose a pair down the sink and not lose sleep.

They are the disposable cutlery of the cufflink world, and I wear them with the same lack of guilt.

My heritage pair, however, are sterling silver Concorde cufflinks by Links of London.

These were gifted by my sister from the aircraft’s exclusive onboard collection when she was British Airways cabin crew during the supersonic era.

They are rare, discontinued, and now worth considerably more than I'd like to admit.

They are not just cufflinks. They are a conversation piece, a memory, a small piece of aviation history that happens to sit on my wrists.

They remind me of an era when we believed we could fly faster than sound and that the future was a shiny, silver thing.

But here's a thing about cufflinks: you can hunt them down.

Antique fairs, pawn shops, estate sales - they are everywhere, and for at least three decades they have been overlooked.

A previous generation wore them as a matter of course.

Then came Casual Friday, remote work, and the Great Suit Collapse.

Suddenly, cufflinks were relics.

That is bad news for the suit, but excellent news for the bargain hunter.

You can find silver, enamel, gold-plated, novelty, geometric, Art Deco, Victorian, modernist.

They are small enough to slip into a pocket, light enough to carry home, and often priced like afterthoughts.

A stallholder on Portobello Road once sold me a pair of 1950s enamel cufflinks for £8.

They had been sitting in a box for thirty years, waiting for a man who cared enough to notice.

I have been in the habit of buying them as mementoes of different cities I've visited or with which I've been involved.

Madrid, Caracas, Hong Kong, even a rather fun pair

of silver dolphins from Cancún - each has a pair in my collection.

They are not expensive, but they are anchors.

A reminder of a trip, a meeting, a moment.

When I wear them, I am not just dressing. I am remembering.

This isn't just personal preference.

The runways are talking too. Giorgio Armani's Fall-Winter collection in Milan featured sleek, minimalist metallic cufflinks - polished stainless steel and brushed silver with occasional gold accents - designed to complement the season's sharp tailoring.

Meanwhile, Amiri's Paris show leaned into a 1970s Laurel Canyon aesthetic, introducing statement cufflinks with gold-toned frames and enamel motifs like laurel leaves and vintage car emblems.

British GQ's curated gallery for 2026 features minimalist, geometric designs by Babette Wasserman alongside Paul Smith's bold enamel pieces.

The range spans from "suave black punctuation marks" to "deep red vitreous enamel [that] sit like wonderful gemstones on your shirt."

The irony isn't lost on anyone.

After years of casual Friday culture, remote work, and all those badly ironed polos and tees, we are circling back.

Not to the full rigour of corporate dress codes, but to a more considered approach.

Cufflinks don't require a tuxedo.

They work with a blazer and chinos.

They are about intention, not obligation.

Smith's rule is simple: always wear two cufflinks, never one.

It sounds pedantic until you realise it's about symmetry, balance, and the basic grammar of dressing. You wouldn't wear one shoe.

You wouldn't button one side of a jacket.

Cufflinks follow the same logic.

Beyond that, the guidelines are flexible:

• French cuffs only. Button-cuff shirts don't take cufflinks. This isn't a suggestion - it's physics.
• Match your hardware. If your watch is steel, go steel. If it's gold, go gold. Mixed metals work if you're deliberate about it.
• Consider the occasion. Silk knots for daytime. Silver or enamel for evening. Save the novelty pieces for when you're feeling brave… or avoid them entirely.
• Two cufflinks, never one. Paul Smith's rule. Follow it.

Cufflinks are the last true frontier of personal expression in menswear. You don’t make them about showing off.

You wear them to remember.

They are small, affordable, and deeply individual.

You can spend £50 or £5,000.

The Concorde cufflinks remind me of my sister, of the BA cabin crew uniform, of the era when supersonic flight was still possible.

The Turkish knots remind me of Alibaba, of bulk ordering, of the very modern reality that a little perseverance can still uncover timeless design.

The city pairs remind me of airports, hotels, conversations, the geography of a life lived in motion.

My Concorde cufflinks sit in a drawer with the fifty Turkish silk knots and the city mementoes.

One tells a story. The others add colour.

Others mark a place. All serve the same function.

The question isn't which is better - it's which fits the moment.

Do you use them to complement, or to contrast? Is the intent elegance, colour, or playfulness?

Unlike that other major male accessory, the wristwatch - which often serves as a billboard for one's net worth - cufflinks offer a palette that will rarely raise eyebrows for the wrong reasons, but will often give you that finishing detail of personal style.

Smith's fire question cuts to the heart of it.

If everything else burned, what would you keep?

For him, it's the cufflinks.

For me, it's probably the same.

Because in the end, dressing isn't about the suit. It's about the details. And the cufflink is the smallest detail that matters most.

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Do You Need My Help?

• Have you ever found yourself staring at the closet not knowing what to wear?
• Do you need help with coordinating pieces?
• Do you constantly struggle putting an outfit together and want to turn that confusion into confidence?

Then let's talk about how we can improve your look.

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Reginald V. Ferguson

Follow me on LinkedIn, YouTube or my Podcast​