YACHT CLUB CONFESSIONALS: ‘THE WHITE LOTUS’ SERVES LUXURY DISASTER WITH STYLE TO MATCH
In the intoxicating whirlwind that is HBO’s “The White Lotus,” Season 3’s Sunday premiere serves us a potent cocktail of excess, regret, and sartorial splendor that feels eerily prescient of fashion’s current obsession with decadent glamour. Patrick Schwarzenegger’s masterclass in post-bacchanal dishevelment as Saxon Ratliff isn’t merely compelling television—it’s a reflection of our industry’s cyclical return to morning-after chic.
Watching Saxon’s world implode poolside—designer sunglasses barely concealing the evidence of last night’s transgressions—one can’t help but recall the recent Miu Miu collections where Miuccia Prada deliberately evoked that delicious tension between polish and disarray. His rumpled linen ensemble, likely from a resort collection worthy of the fictional luxury property’s clientele, becomes the perfect canvas for his unraveling.
Mike White’s blurry, disorienting cinematography mirrors techniques we’ve seen dominating editorial spreads this season—that dreamy, slightly off-kilter aesthetic that brands from Loewe to Saint Laurent have embraced in their campaigns. It’s telling that as Saxon’s reality fragments, so too does the visual language documenting his downfall.
The yacht scene—which apparently extended far beyond what viewers initially witnessed between Saxon and brother Lochlan (Sam Nivola)—reminds one of fashion’s endless fascination with transgression. The siblings’ forbidden encounter, encouraged by the impeccably styled Chelsea (Aimee Lou Wood) and Chloe (Charlotte Le Bon), feels like a provocative Gucci campaign come to life. One can almost see Alessandro Michele nodding approvingly at the beautiful mess of it all.
“Everything he stood for is now not who he is,” Schwarzenegger explains of his character, unknowingly articulating fashion’s perpetual identity crisis. Isn’t this precisely what happens each season? The reinvention, the rejection of former selves, the panicked overcorrection—Saxon’s frantic over-spraying of mosquito repellent might well be a metaphor for our industry’s occasionally desperate attempts to ward off irrelevance.
The poolside confrontation—Chelsea’s casual bite into an apple as she delivers emotional devastation—is pure editorial gold. Her pronouncement that Saxon is “soulless” and “sad” carries the cutting precision of an Anna Wintour assessment. The simplicity of her devastating critique reminds us that sometimes the most effective statements require the fewest words—a lesson many designers would do well to remember.
When Lochlan attempts to release unwelcome memories during meditation with a gentle “Goodbye!”—it’s impossible not to see parallels to fashion’s selective amnesia about its own problematic histories, our industry’s practiced ability to mindfully acknowledge issues before promptly dismissing them.
As Chloe reveals that her wealthy, mysterious boyfriend Gary (Jon Gries, previously known as Greg in earlier seasons) knows all about the yacht’s activities and desires dinner with Saxon’s family, we’re reminded of fashion’s intricate power dynamics—how quickly one can move from industry darling to cautionary tale.
“The White Lotus” continues to be the sharpest cultural mirror, reflecting not just society’s excesses but the fashion world’s particular blend of beauty and brutality. As we watch these beautiful, damaged people navigate their exquisite surroundings in equally exquisite wardrobes, we might ask ourselves: Is the show satirizing luxury culture, or simply documenting its inevitable evolution?
Whatever the answer, we’ll be watching—and taking notes on every carefully curated outfit, no matter how disheveled they become by morning.
