We landed in Milan in the early afternoon and went straight to the atelier. No stops. No distractions. With fittings scheduled to begin within 48 hours, the priority was clear: unpack, assThe studio picked up early this morning, with both Zuri and Ara scheduled for fittings ahead of garment finalization. With less than a week until Cannes, the energy shifted from prep to execution—decisions are now immediate, and every hour counts.

Zuri’s Fitting – 9:30 AM

Zuri arrived on time, coffee in hand, already in fitting mode.Zuri’s fitting began with two of her five scheduled looks—both of which leaned into structured glamour with sharp contrast in silhouette and tone.

Look One: Franklin Street Premiere
A strapless white gown with sculptural hip folds and a voluminous full skirt. The exterior is crisp and romantic, constructed in bonded cotton for architectural shape, but the interior tells a different story—a hand-built internal corset is structured beneath the draped bodice, giving Zuri full support without compromising softness. It’s a look designed to hold up under lights, movement, and camera flashes without ever appearing heavy.

“This feels like something my grandmother would’ve gasped at,” Zuri said quietly. “It’s regal without being stiff. There’s memory in it.”

Alessandra adjusted the fold tension at the waist and reinforced the interior stitching near the side seams. The gown is locked in for the Franklin Street red carpet.

Look Two: The Lot Premiere
A black velvet cocktail gown with an asymmetrical ruffled slit skirt cut in layered black silk chiffon and soft tulle to create fluid movement and a semi-sheer cascade with asymmetrical ruffling that sweeps just behind the heel. The bodice features a sculpted sweetheart neckline with an internal corset built directly into the lining—a decision made early to ensure full stability through the waist without interrupting the clean finish of the outer layer.

The gown is sleek, intentional, and quietly commanding—made to hold space rather than take it.

“It’s less about being seen and more about being present,” Zuri said during the fitting. “This one feels like me.”

Adjustments were minimal: a subtle hem lift for walking ease and reinforcement at the inner bust seam. The gown is confirmed for The Lot premiere.

While Alessandra adjusted the hem on her second gown, Zuri sat back, slipping out of her heels. “Also—heads up—I have to fly back to New York on Sunday.”

Stacy looked up from the garment rack. “Wait, what? You're not going straight to Cannes?”

“Nope. Disney Upfronts on Monday. I tried to get out of it, but it’s a whole rollout and my name’s on the invite.”

He exhaled. “Alright. Then we’ll finalize everything by Saturday and prep a travel pack for both coasts.”

“I’ll carry the red carpet looks with me. No room for lost luggage.”

“We’ll ship both premiere gowns to Cannes and you can take the dinner looks with you if you want. Johan already has everything set up to ship on Monday.” Stacy responded.

“Perfect.” Zuri excitedly remarked. “Wait. Julian’s suit, am I taking that with me?”

“No, we’re shipping that to him on Friday and will do any alterations when me and the team get there on Monday.”

“Ok great!” she responded while looking down at her phone. “I gotta get out of here in a few, anything else before I go?”

Stacy glanced at the rolling rack beside him, then back at Zuri. “You’re good. We’ll fit the last three looks Wednesday in Cannes when you land.”

Alessandra stepped back to check the dress one last time in the mirror. “Second hem is good. You’re cleared to change.”

Zuri stood, stretching slightly as she stepped down. “Perfect. I’ll change and head out. I’ve got one more call tonight, and I still haven’t eaten. If you needlet anything last-minute, text me before 9—my Wi-Fi gets weird at the hotel.”

“Got it,” Stacy nodded. “Just make sure you rest. Your schedule next week is crazy.”

Zuri smirked. “What else is new?”

She stepped behind the screen to change, still talking. “Also, let me know if you’re good with the seating for the dinner Julian’s assistant is driving me crazy trying to confirm”

“I’m good with the seating, I’m good to go” Stacy called back. “I know the second you leave, someone’s going to try and add an event. So let me know if something comes up” We’re taking a bunch of things over for the dressing salon pop-up. I’ll put something to the side.”

“They can try,” Zuri called from behind the screen, “but my schedule is set. Anyone late gets what they get.”

She reemerged a minute later in her travel clothes, gathering her bag. “Alright, my loves—thank you. You nailed it, per usual.”

She hugged Stacy, then Alessandra. “I’ll see you in the south of France.”

Stacy smiled. “Just get there in one piece.”

“I’m more worried about sleep,” she groaned. 

And with that, she was gone—heels in one hand, phone in the other.

Zuri’s exit left a brief hush in the studio—the kind that comes after a rush, when everyone collectively exhales. Stacy glanced at the clock. 11:32AM

“She timed that down to the minute,” he said walking towards his office. 

“Monroe, can we get lunch started?” he yelled out. “Absolutely!” Monroe yelled back. 

Ara’s Arrival & First Fitting – 1:00 PM

Ara landed in Milan late morning and planned to arrive at the studio just after lunch. We have three gowns ready to fit and super excited to get back to the energy we had during award season. 

Monroe stepped in from the hallway. “Just got word—Ara’s car just pulled up.”

Stacy looked up at Monroe. “Ok. Cool, we’re ready. Let Alessandra know please.”

A few minutes later, Ara entered the studio, sunglasses and a cap on. No bag, but just her phone.  She moved with calm precision, scanning the space like she’d been here yesterday.

“Hey you,” Stacy said, stepping forward.

Ara smiled, pulling off her glasses. “You always make this place feel like it’s been waiting for me.”

“It is,” he replied simply. “We’ve got set up for you to look at.”

She took off her hat and set it gently on the table. “Good. Because I don’t think I’ve ever had this much attention on me in a room before I even show up.”

“You’re in two films this season. It’s big!” Stacy replied. 

Ara let out a groan. “Ugh, you’re right.”

She turned to the rack of gowns. “Okay, so what are we starting with?”

Stacy walked over to the rack and pulled the first look forward: a structured white heavy cotton gown with an oversized red chiffon bow at her nape created a striking silhouette from every angle. 

“This one’s for The Lot premiere,” he said, unzipping the garment bag. “We reinforced the internal corset this morning and it should hold without slipping.”

Ara raised an eyebrow as she took in the gown. “Oh, y’all really went for it.”

Stacy gave a short nod. “Yeah. Because it’s your Cannes debut. We’re showing up like it.”

Ara grinned as she grabbed the garment bag and disappeared behind the screen. 

Ara stepped out from behind the screen and onto the platform, the studio lights catching the smooth white surface of the gown. It moved like sculpture—strong, grounded, undeniably present.

Stacy didn’t speak right away. Alessandra moved to the back, adjusting the fall of the train. “The skirt’s holding well,” she said. “No drop with the weight. We can shorten the bow’s tail just slightly for clearance if we need to.”

“No, let it drag. I like the drama.” Ara said as she looked at herself in the mirror, “It’s regal,” she said softly. “But not delicate. I love that.”

Stacy circled once. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

She turned, slowly, examining how the skirt fanned out. “It reminds me of the dress we did for The Emmys. I loved that silhouette” she said.

“Exactly. A secret callback of sorts.” Stacy replied. 

“Okay, what’s next?” Ara asked while unzipping the back.

Stacy pulled the second dress from the rack—a red, striped satin gown with a high slit and a clean cross-back. “Dinner look. An Evening in Legacy. We’re leaning into bold.”

Ara raised her eyebrows. “So we’re not easing in at all.”

“You’re in the front row now. There’s no easing in,” Stacy said.

“At least I’ll get dinner first,” she muttered, half under her breath.

The three of them laughed.

Ara stepped behind the screen, calling out as she changed. “This the one with the slippery lining?”

“We fixed it,” Alessandra replied. “It’s holding now. You’ll feel it right away.”

Moments later, she stepped out in the gown. It was a different kind of impact: sleek, controlled, body-forward but not screaming. The satin striped fabric shimmered slightly as she moved.

Ara ran her hand down her side and turned to the mirror. “Oh. This is trouble.”

“That’s the idea.” Stacy laughed. 

Ara turned to the mirror again, watching the fabric catch the light as she shifted her stance. The cross-back detail gave her silhouette clean structure, while the slit opened just enough to remind the room who was wearing it.

Alessandra moved in, checking the side seam. “The drape is holding at the hip. We’ll just secure the cross straps a bit more so they don’t shift when you sit.”

“I can already hear the table whispers,” she said.

Alessandra stepped back to double-check the hem. “We’ll finish the inside edge and press the skirt line tonight.”

Ara nodded, still looking at herself. “Honestly... this might be my favorite one so far.”

Stacy crossed his arms and smiled. “I swear it’s always the easiest one with you.”

She laughed, stepping down from the platform. “Because you don’t overthink me.”

Stacy turned to the final look on the rack. “Okay, last one for today.”

He unzipped the garment bag and pulled the dress forward—a sleek black gown with a soft silk jersey skirt and a sculpted leather bustier. A red leather poof hat sat on the styling table next to it, structured and bold, the same one debuted in the Met Gala capsule.

Ara’s eyes lit up. “Ahhhhh. I loved this hat. I texted you as soon as I saw Recea in it”

“You said you wanted something iconic for the press.” Stacy said, handing her the hanger.

She headed behind the screen. “This might break the internet.”

A few moments later, she stepped out. The leather bodice hugged her upper body with clean, engineered precision, while the skirt fell fluidly down the leg, a quiet contrast in motion. Velvet roses traced a sharp curve along the hip, climbing from hem to bust. The poof hat sat slightly off-center, framing her face with just enough drama.

Ara turned slowly. “This feels like performance art. But like... dangerous.”

She posed in front of the mirror. “I’m not even sure which appearance this is for yet.”

“I know you have amfAR this year as well. So maybe that? A lil sex for the night,” Stacy said, tilting his head slightly as he studied the fit.

Ara smirked. “A lil sex is generous. This is a statement.”

Alessandra nodded from across the room, still inspecting the side seam. “We’ll finish the hand-stitching along the tassel to reinforce the roses. But it’s ready.”

Ara turned to the mirror one last time, studying the silhouette. “I think this is the one that’s gonna trip people up,” she said. “The other two say: lead. This one says: watch yourself.”

“That’s exactly the balance,” Stacy replied. “They need all three.”

She stepped down from the platform and slipped off the hat carefully, handing it to Alessandra. “Alright. That’s it for me today.”

“Good fitting,” Stacy said, already noting final adjustments. “Everything’s moving.”

Ara looked back once before heading to the dressing screen. “This is gonna be a wild week.”

Stacy smiled. “And we’re ready for it.”

The fitting wrapped just after 5:20 PM. Alessandra stepped out to coordinate final adjustments with her team. Ara had changed back into her own clothes, now standing by the garment rack, thumbing through the look cards one last time.

“You got everything you need from me today?” she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

“How many more fittings do you have?” she asked, casually.

Stacy looked up from his notes. “Recea comes on Friday. Verna’s Saturday. Zuri’s back that day too—finals for her press looks.”

Ara raised her eyebrows. “You’re not sleeping till Cannes.”

“I am definitely sleeping all day Tuesday,” he replied. 

She smirked, then leaned against the edge of the table. “I fly out Monday. Press starts Tuesday and they’re already asking me to do this morning interview before hair and makeup.”

“Welcome to being the world of being a movie star,” Stacy said

“You shouldn’t be. It’s your moment.”

She nodded, quieter now. “It really does feel like the beginning of something.”

“It is,” Stacy said. “And we’re making sure you walk into it dressed like it.”

She smiled, grabbed her phone off the table, and made her way to the door. “Alright. I’ll see you in Cannes.”

“Yeah, let's do lunch or dinner on Tuesday in my room.”  Stacy yelled out. 

Ara turned back just before stepping out. “Thanks for today.”

“Anytime,” Stacy said. “Now go rest before they start chasing you again.”

By the time Ara left the studio just before 6, the room had settled into that familiar early evening rhythm—quiet machines, muted conversation, the scent of steam and pressed fabric hanging in the air.

Three out of five looks were now locked.

Recea would arrive Friday for her full fitting run. Verna and Zuri were scheduled for back-to-back final sessions Saturday. The production team was on track. The calendar was tight, but stable.

Stacy remained at his desk a few minutes longer, reviewing notes from the day. He didn’t say much—just stared at the design board, then at the week’s lineup, quietly checking things off in his head.

“Alright. Let’s get out of here before I die of hunger,” he said out loud, standing up and grabbing his jacket and bag.

In the other room, the team was already shutting down workstations while Alessandra gave the tailors their final notes for the evening. The last bit of light filtered in through the atelier windows, casting soft shadows across the tables.

Stacy waited as Alessandra finished speaking to her team before leaving.

“We’re all set for tomorrow?” he asked, meeting her at the doorway.

She nodded, tucking a loose thread into her cuff. “Everything Is prepared. Recea’s gowns are steamed and Monroe confirmed her car for noon.”

“Perfect,” he replied. “Let’s just make sure she has space to move. She’s doing mostly fun events for Cannes so we’re gonna pull things to wear as well”

“We’ll pace it,” Alessandra said with a small smile.

Stacy gave one final glance toward the fitting area before leave. 

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s call it.”

“Don’t be here all night.” he said to Alessandra as he left. 

He shortly jumped in the car where Monroe was waiting. The doors closed, and the car pulled off into the Milan evening. Stacy exhaled and stared out the window, his shoulder resting lightly against the glass.

He was tired. But his energy was good, and the work was moving.

Tomorrow, Recea.