"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."
A coven isn't a coincidence. Nobody stumbles into one. It's built, deliberately, out of the people who show up when the rest of the world doesn't. The ones who hold the circle when you can't hold yourself. I turn 40 this year, and if my last two collections were love letters to the place and movie that rebuilt me, this one is a love letter to the people who did. Not by blood. By choice, by proximity, by years of showing up. That's a coven. That's this collection.
I didn't set out to make this the most personal drop I've ever released. How poignant that it also falls on my birthday month. It started with two blocks. Black, because for some reason it's what we all gravitate toward, unspoken, nobody in the coven has ever quite explained why. And leopard print, because it belongs to one member of the coven entirely: there was an era when he dyed his hair blonde and wore leopard print like it was the only pattern left, flamboyant in a way that's stayed with the rest of us since. Every piece in this range is a study of somebody's personal style, borrowed and cut into a collection. I'm not going to name them here. Some manifestations are truer when they stay inside the circle. But if you know me, you'll know exactly who this is for. And if you don't, you'll still recognise the feeling. Everyone has a coven, even if they've never called it that.
Why a Coven, Not a Costume
Witches get one thing right that fashion usually gets wrong: a coven doesn't perform togetherness, it practices it. It's ritual, repetition, showing up on the nights that matter and the nights that don't. That's closer to what chosen family actually feels like than any of the softer, more palatable phrases for it.
The same shape runs through the rave. The circuit floor, the after-hours room, the festival campsite: the same faces, experience after experience, holding each other upright at 6am to catch a glimpse of that first sun ray breaking the dawn. A building in Berlin with no daylight has taught more people what chosen family feels like than most families ever manage. That room runs on the same rules a coven does. Coven is cut for it.
There's nothing soft about a group of people who decided, on purpose, to build a home out of each other. This collection wears that decision. Leopard print for the ones who refuse to hide. Black for the one who never wavered. Chain for the bond itself, forged rather than found. Every cut in the range does something structural: reveals, anchors, or binds. That's what a real circle does for you too.
Shop the full COVEN collection
Dissecting the Garments
The Libertine High Slit Lace Kimono in Leopard Black
The pièce de résistance of the range, and the piece that started it. Full-length, slit on both sides to the highest point I've ever cut a kimono, high enough that walking in it is closer to a strut than a step. That's on purpose. Somewhere between a red-carpet leg reveal and a ritual robe, it's built to move the second you do, revealing exactly as much as you decide to give it. Worn open over the Cropped Top for full drama, or alone over bare skin when the moment calls for less noise and more nerve.
The Libertine Crop Lace Top in Leopard Black
Cut boxy, cropped short, built for the kind of physical presence that doesn't need to explain itself. The mock neck and dropped shoulder give it structure without ever clinging: this is the piece for the person in every circle who holds the room without raising their voice, armour that works by giving you room rather than by hugging the line. Wear it under the kimono for layers, or on its own with the Wide-Leg Pants for a silhouette that's all shoulders and intention.
The Libertine Wide Leg Lace Pants in Leopard Black
Cut wide, sheer enough that every step is a small negotiation between what you meant to show and what the fabric decides to. Every model on set loved wearing it in the studio, and every one of them paused, just for a second, on whether they'd wear it out in public. That pause is the point. It's not a pant that blends in at the edge of the dancefloor; it's the one that asks whether you're ready to be seen. Worn under the kimono for a slow reveal, or alone for the version of you that's already decided.
The Libertine Lace Jockstrap Thong in Leopard Black
The wild card. Every coven has its public face and its private one, and this is the private one: built for the after-hours version of the night, the one nobody's taking photos of. Or built for the exact opposite night, the one where you want every photo taken. Supportive where it needs to be, unapologetic everywhere else. This is loungewear that also happens to work at a festival, which tells you everything about the register this whole collection is written in.
The Libertine Lace Briefs in Leopard Black
The anchor to the wild card above it: same duality, opposite instinct. Where the thong is the after-hours self, this is the Sunday-morning one, familiar, grounding, reliably itself. A classic cut doesn't need reinventing to still feel considered; this one earns its place in the range simply by being the piece you reach for when nothing needs proving.
The Libertine Thick Stainless Steel Chain Necklace
Chain is the tie that binds: an unbreakable bond between family, forged rather than found. It's the piece that ties the whole look together, because that's what a chain has always been for. Wear it under the open kimono, against bare skin, or let it sit alone over the crop top and do the work of finishing the outfit.
The Circle, Closed
There's an old idea about self-made success that this collection has no interest in. Nobody builds anything alone: not a business, not a body, not a version of yourself you can finally stand to look at in the mirror. Somebody holds the circle open long enough for you to walk into it. Coven is what that looks like on a rack: leopard for the ones who refuse to disappear, black for the one who never left, chain for the bond that made the rest of it possible.
To the coven, you know who you are. Thank you for the circle. Let's dance.