June before summer
Pavilions, sales and books to ease you in
I remember the first time I walked into a Serpentine Gallery Pavilion. It was 2011, on a scorching-hot summer day, and I discovered it almost by accident. It was opened to anyone keen to wander beyond its dark wall. I was with A, who was five at the time, and we thought it might be a playground. Inside, a secret garden with multicoloured flowers, a miraculous shelter. The work of its architect, Peter Zumthor, would later evoke the same sense of wonder at the Kolumba Museum in Cologne.
A year later, I quit my job and launched Culture Whisper. And in the years that followed, I was invited to the openings of many pavilions, architectural extensions of the democratic beauty of Kensington Gardens. None of them charmed me as much as Zumthor’s Hortus Conclusus, but they were always an introduction to the big or up-and-coming names of architecture, and among my favourites Sumayya Vally’s and Theastre Gates’.
In the midst of the June frenzy, their openings mark the promise of the soon-to-come summer season, a mood to slowly slip into. Leafy parks and the scent of lime trees, late outdoor drinks, and the expected amount of rain. Which greeted us, mercurially, on Wednesday morning as we were about to discover the 2026 Pavilion designed by the Mexican studio, LANZA atelier.
A curving structure in red brick, perhaps not the most evocative escape against the greyness of the sky. Bricks made of clay with gaps between each unit so that “gazes can connect through a surface that is traditionally opaque”, as founders Isabel Abascal and Alessandro Arienzo would tell me later. As for the curvy walls, they are “permeable and unapologetically graceful. They reveal the power of walls not to divide, but to bring together”.
It is true that despite the downpour, our usually restless journalists lingered, catching up on things and happy to chat. We were all coveting the wooden chairs and stools, designed specifically for the project. Made locally from warm sapele hardwood, they brought a spare elegance to the pavilion, where they will remain throughout the summer season, though I suspect they will need watching. I would have happily taken one back home.
As I sipped my coffee, chatting with the New York Times art correspondent in the torrential rain and contemplating the greenery through the permeable terracotta curves, it struck me that LANZA had achieved its goal, albeit in a different way than Zumthor’s garden — that earlier pavilion which inadvertently changed the direction of my life fifteen years ago. The path that followed was never straight, I thought, waiting for the rain to stop. More like these sinuous walls: winding, porous and open to chance.
My summer of sales
London June sales have always been the pillars of my summer wardrobe: A Miu Miu party dress at an unexpected price, a classic Eres bikini at 30 per cent off. Each year, they mirror the absurdity of our overconsumption. So many “cult items” that didn’t sell — the endless pages of the Row sales on My Theresa. And of course, each year, I can't help but succumb. The promise of a carefree summer. From rubber flip flops (which everyone is buying at the moment) to crochet tote bags, here is what caught my eye on a very rainy Saturday afternoon.
