How strawberries and Cream were a Rare and Exciting Treat for Victorians Before Becoming a Wimbledon Icon

Strawberries and Cream by Raphaelle Peale (1816) National Gallery of Art. Cover picture by Jay Zoo for DAM.  

By Rebecca Earle

Wimbledon is all about strawberries and cream (and of course tennis). The club itself describes strawberries and cream as “a true icon of The Championships”.

While a meal at one of the club’s restaurants can set you back £130 or more, a bowl of the iconic dish is a modest £2.70 (up from £2.50 in 2024 – the first price rise in 15 years). In 2024 visitors munched their way through nearly 2 million berries.

Strawberries and cream has a long association with Wimbledon. Even before lawn tennis was added to its activities, the All England Croquet Club (now the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club) was serving strawberries and cream to visitors. They would have expected no less. Across Victorian Britain, strawberries and cream was a staple of garden parties of all sorts. Private affairs, political fundraisers and county cricket matches all typically served the dish.

Alongside string bands and games of lawn tennis, strawberries and cream were among the pleasures that Victorians expected to encounter at a fête or garden party. As a result, one statistician wrote in the Dundee Evening Telegraph in 1889, Londoners alone consumed 12 million berries a day over the summer. At that rate, he explained, if strawberries were available year-round, Britons would spend 24 times more on strawberries than on missionary work, and twice as much as on education.

But of course strawberries and cream were not available year-round. They were a delightful treat of the summer and the delicate berries did not last. Victorian newspapers, such as the Illustrated London News, complained that even the fruits on sale in London were a sad, squashed travesty of those eaten in the countryside, to say nothing of London’s cream, which might have been watered down.

Wimbledon’s lawn tennis championships were held in late June or early July – in the midst, in other words, of strawberry season.

Eating strawberries and cream had long been a distinctly seasonal pleasure. Seventeenth-century menu plans for elegant banquets offered strawberries, either with cream or steeped (rather deliciously, and I recommend you try this) in rose water, white wine, and sugar – as a suitable dish for the month of June.

Strawberries and Cream by Robert Gemmell Hutchison (1855–1936). National Galleries of Scotland, CC BY-NC

They were, in the view of the 17th-century gardener John Parkinson, “a cooling and pleasant dish in the hot summer season”. They were, in short, a summer food. That was still the case in the 1870s, when the Wimbledon tennis championship was established.

This changed dramatically with the invention of mechanical refrigeration. From the late 19th century, new technologies enabled the global movement of chilled and frozen foods across vast oceans and spaces.

Domestic ice-boxes and refrigerators followed. These modern devices were hailed as freeing us from the tyranny of seasons. As the Ladies Home Journal magazine proclaimed triumphantly in 1929: “Refrigeration wipes out seasons and distances … We grow perishable products in the regions best suited to them instead of being forced to stick close to the large markets.” Eating seasonally, or locally, was a tiresome constraint and it was liberating to be able to enjoy foods at whatever time of year we desired.

As a result, points out historian Susan Friedberg, our concept of “freshness” was transformed. Consumers “stopped expecting fresh food to be just-picked or just-caught or just-killed. Instead, they expected to find and keep it in the refrigerator.”

Strawberries and cream being enjoyed at Wimbledon. bonchan/Shutterstock

Today, when we can buy strawberries year-round, we have largely lost the excitement that used to accompany advent of the strawberry season. Colour supplements and supermarket magazines do their best to drum up some enthusiasm for British strawberries, but we are far from the days when poets could rhapsodise about dairy maids “dreaming of their strawberries and cream” in the month of May.

Strawberries and cream, once a “rare service” enjoyed in the short months from late April to early July, are now a season-less staple, available virtually year round from the global networks of commercial growers who supply Britain’s food. The special buzz about Wimbledon’s iconic dish of strawberries and cream is a glimpse into an earlier time, and reminds us that it was not always so.

Rebecca Earle, Professor of History, University of Warwick

Sea Change: Iris van Herpen's New Collection Tells a Tale of Couture, Creation and Connection in Paris

Iris van Herpen wanted to create coral-like forms from fire-flamed brass that is hand-made into diaphanous clouds that hover around model Andrea Gutierrez, Photograph (above) and cover picture by Jay Zoo. 

Amid rising seas and vanishing reefs, Iris van Herpen’s Autumn/Winter 2025–26 couture collection Sympoiesis asks us to reconsider our place in nature, not as distant observers, but as part of a shared system. The Dutch designer transformed her runway creations into symbols of a living oceanic organism: delicate, intelligent, and interconnected, where algae illuminate dresses and textiles are like coral, fusing biodesign and marine science, the show was a sensory study about how we are all connected. Story by Jeanne-Marie Cilento and Andrea Heinsohn. Photographs by Jay Zoo 

Translucent organza in hues of

blue and green, like the ocean. 

Photograph: Jay Zoo 

THIS season in Paris, Iris van Herpen didn’t just present a couture collection, she mapped an entire fashion ecosystem. Called Sympoiesis, she unveiled her new work during Haute Couture Week, Autumn-Winter 2025/26, as a manifesto on the fragility of the ocean. 

Drawing on marine biology, biofabrication, movement, scent, and light, the Dutch designer transformed the runway into a thoughtful meditation on connectedness: between humans and nature, art and science, past and future. 

From a gown inhabited by millions of bioluminescent algae to kinetic wings that fluttered like underwater lifeforms, the collection asked what it means to design not just for the body, but with the world around it.

“The collection is a collaboration with nature itself,” van Herpen said. “In this time of ecological emergency and biodiversity loss, biodesign invites us to rethink the way we 'use' materials, to visualise a future where all human design is not just inspired by nature but integrated with it.

"It highlights the interdependence between humans and nature, viewing the body not as isolated, but as an ecosystem, where fashion becomes alive, responsive, and connected with the natural world.”

Drawing on marine biology, biofabrication, movement, scent, and light, the Dutch designer  wanted to evoke interdependence, between humans and nature, art and science

The immersive performance

created with lighting artist

Nick Verstand at the show

Photograph: Jay Zoo. 

The show opened with a performance in collaboration with Dutch light artist Nick Verstand. A dancer, dressed in a whisper-thin Japanese fabric, moved within a chamber of laser-projected light. Each gesture summoned organic, flowing shapes, like phosphorescence disturbed by a swimmer’s hand. 

The performance invoked the pioneering spirit of Loïe Fuller, whose late-19th-century experiments with fabric, light, and choreography paved the way for what van Herpen now renders through aerospace textiles and motion-triggered projection. 

“She seems to be in dialogue with the forces of nature in her performances,” said van Herpen. “In my eyes she was an alchemist of light  and textiles, with which she merged dance into sculpture.

“The dancer becomes morphogenic and more-than-human, seeming to shimmer in and out of perception, often being swallowed entirely into this bioluminescent creature,” she added. “The show opening is an emotionally charged performance on how we have drained the life out of our oceans. It is a call for protection."

Then came the most talked-about moment of the night: a model stepping out in the design incorporating the bioluminescent algae. The collaboration with biodesigner Chris Bellamy produced what is likely couture’s first living garment. The algae, pyrocystis lunula, emit light in response to movement. 

“The show opening is an emotionally charged performance on how we have drained the life out of our oceans. It is a call for protection."

The evocative, organic designs

created by van Herpen, are 

both elegant and futuristic.  

Photograph: Jay Zoo

Months of lab cultivation, using saltwater baths and circadian-light cycling, created a gel-based ecosystem for the microorganisms, which pulsed gently inside a translucent bodice. The design was housed off-runway in a climate-controlled biosphere designed to simulate oceanic conditions. This wasn’t a dress meant to be worn; it was meant to be cared for.

That distinction was crucial.Van Herpen isn’t proposing living fashion as novelty. Instead, the algae look raises questions about mutual dependency, fragility, and what it might mean to cultivate garments as ecosystems, ones that breathe, grow, and respond.

The designer has long worked at the intersection of natural systems and scientific inquiry. But Sympoiesis deepened that engagement through its conceptual grounding in James Lovelock’s Gaia hypothesis, which views the Earth’s biosphere as a single, self-regulating organism. 

The ocean, in this theory, is not a backdrop or even a resource, but a vital, co-creative force. “We can’t view nature as something separate from us,” van Herpen said. “We’re entangled, biologically, materially, emotionally.” This ethos emerged through form and material. One standout look, created with kinetic artist Casey Curran, featured delicate wings made from golden coil filaments that rippled in slow, synchronized movements, like the pulsing of jellyfish or the respiration of coral. The design was based on microscopic imaging of bioluminescent plankton.

“In this time of ecological emergency, biodesign invites us to rethink the way we 'use' materials, to visualise a future where human design is not just inspired by nature but integrated with it"

The sinuous gown created from

Spiber's Brewed Protein was a

highlight of the show in Paris.

Photograph; Jay Zoo

Van Herpen’s signature mix of cutting-edge materials and fluid shapes continued throughout the collection. Carbon fibre boning mimicked moon jellies and sonar waves. Silk, draped over wave-shaped casts and coated with resin, became suspended breakers. In another look, Brewed Protein, a plant-based biomaterial developed by Japanese biotech company Spiber, was laser-cut and bonded to sheer organza to create coral-like forms.

Perhaps the most compelling example of Sympoiesis' fusion of design and material innovation came in one of the collection’s two bridal looks, also made with Spiber. Their fibre is a lab-engineered material based on proteins found in spider silk and cashmere but produced through microbial fermentation. 

"Biomimicry is always present in Spiber's approach, and that's really similar to our methodology," explained van Herpen. "Fusing biology with innovation, recreating the way nature makes a material, starting from a protein. They were able to translate a complex technology to meet the needs of designers and create something truly wearable, which is a rare quality."

The wedding gown combined sheer organza and the Spiber protein, laser-cut into hundreds of crescent shapes, then dyed in shades of soft coral and ivory. The panels were heat-sealed to create a shimmering exoskeleton, while illusion tulle carried delicate coral-like embellishments that spiraled into a weightless train “The fabric floats on the skin like it’s alive,” Van Herpen said. “It has a softness and lightness that can’t be replicated.”

Each of the show’s eighteen looks engaged with the ocean thematically and structurally. Spiber's Brewed Protein appeared again in translucent constructions, while handcrafted shoes made in collaboration with Rombaut featured cascading metal halos that echoed sonar rings.

"'Ocean' by David Attenborough by reminded me that the future isn’t only about fear. It’s about potential. Healing is possible" 

The subtle hues of peach and

plum were created from

gradient-dyed fabrics.

Photograph: Andrea Heinsohn

Gradient-dyed gowns transitioned from peach hues to a darker plum. “The silhouettes dissolve in motion, as if painted by currents beneath the surface,” said van Herpen. In the gravity-defying Noosphere look, painterly shades of green and blue washed across featherlight carbon fibre panels, forming a silhouette like a drifting sea creature.

A bespoke fragrance by Francis Kurkdjian added another sensory dimension to the experience. Diffused as each model stepped onto the runway, the scent evoked driftwood, mineral salt, and bioluminescence.

“Perfume is an invisible wave, a breath of the soul that may prolong the movement of a garment,” said Kurkdjian. “For Iris van Herpen, I wanted an olfactory score that extends the poetry of her silhouettes, a fragrance like a full immersion: deep, aquatic, familiar yet almost unreal, surreal."

Van Herpen credits the documentary Ocean by David Attenborough with influencing the emotional architecture of the collection. The film’s emphasis on both ecological destruction and nature’s capacity for recovery resonated.

“It reminded me that the future isn’t only about fear,” van Herpen said. “It’s about potential. Healing is possible." That optimism infuses the Sympoiesis collection. The title itself, meaning "making-with," captures a new mode of design, one that operates not in dominion over nature, but in dialogue with it.

In a Paris couture week already full of spectacle and celebrity, vân Herpen’s show offered something else: a rare invitation to slow down and engage on a deeper level. Here, couture was not just image-making but exploring a different future. And in Sympoiesis, the designer shows us that the world we build next depends on how we choose to relate ~ to other living beings, to the environment, including our oceans, and to each other.

A-Listers and Umbrellas: Star Power and Sharp Style at Celine’s Spring/Summer 2026 Show in Paris

Naomi Watts in gingham and black leather at the Celine SS26 show in Paris. Cover picture by Jay Zoo for DAM.

Despite gloomy skies and a steady downpour, the energy around Celine’s Paris headquarters was anything but dreary as fashion and celebrity guests arrived to witness Michael Rider’s first collection for the house. Set in the brand’s historic 17th-century atelier, the show marked the beginning of a new chapter one that unfolded with precision, confidence, and an impressive guest list, writes Ambrogio de Lauro

V from the K-Pop band BTS was one

of the stars in the Celine front row. 

AMONG the first to cause a stir at the debut of Michael Rider's Celine show in Paris, was Kim Taehyung, known as V, of BTS, who arrived early, drawing excited crowds. His appearance, marking his return to the spotlight, set the tone for an event that mixed anticipation with star-studded glamour. Fellow Korean actors Park Bo-gum and Suzy Bae joined him shortly after, creating a flashpoint for the camera-wielding scrum gathered at the venue’s entrance. 

Inside the rain-slicked courtyard, familiar faces took their places on the sandstone-colored benches. Naomi Watts arrived dressed in a polished yet playful look that matched the tone of the collection ~ structured, refined, and with unexpected flourishes. 

Canadian actors Emily Hampshire and Dan Levy shared a front-row moment, clearly enjoying the scene, while Lily McInerny and rising French-Canadian talent Théodore Pellerin brought a fresh edge to the guest lineup. Industry veterans and tastemakers, including Alanis Morissette, Kristen Wiig, Dev Hynes, Jerrod Carmichael, and design heavyweights like Jonathan Anderson and Raf Simons, rounded out the crowd. 

The collection itself reflected a thoughtful evolution of the house’s past codes. Rider introduced a blend of tailoring, athletic references, and tactile playfulness, merging high-gloss polish with offbeat flourishes. Men’s and women’s pieces were shown together, with close-fitting silhouettes, sculptural shapes, and statement accessories that emphasized Celine’s new direction. 

Bags, jewellery, and sporty classics were reimagined with a touch of wit and a nod to function, underscoring the designer’s instinct for balancing commercial appeal with sharp design. Though the rain soaked the sandstone and streaked the silken canopy above, it did little to dampen the excitement. With a strong debut and a room full of influential eyes watching closely, Rider made it clear that Celine is entering a vibrant new phase, one where heritage meets bold vision of renewal. 

Scroll down to see more guests at the Celine Spring/Summer show in Paris 

Raku Meets Runway: The Kinetic Beauty of Kamoda’s Clay Reimagined in Issey Miyake IM Men's Collection

The brilliant hues of the new Issey Miyake IM Men collection at the Cartier Foundation in Paris. Photograph (above) and cover picture by Jay Zoo. 

Under the scorching summer sun in Paris, Issey Miyake’s IM Men returned to the runway with Dancing Texture, a Spring/Summer 2026 collection inspired by Japanese ceramicist Shoji Kamoda. The show transformed fabric into sculpture, channeling bold forms into designs that shimmered, swirled, and unfolded in motion. With a new ASICS footwear collaboration and a design team pushing boundaries, the collection marked a powerful fusion of tradition, technology, and transformation. Story by Jeanne-Marie Cilento. Photographs by Jay Zoo and Andrea Heinsohn  

The fabrics recalling the ceramicist 

Shoji Kamoda, were key to the new 

collection shown in Paris. 

Photograph: Andrea Heinsohn 

ON a steaming summer morning in Paris, Issey Miyake’s IM Men's collection was presented at the Cartier Foundation, heat radiating from the contemporary art museum's steel and glass. Yet the fashion offered a bracing dash of cool minimalism, a meditation on form, motion, and material memory. 

For Spring/Summer 2026, the Japanese house stepped into new terrain by looking to an old master: pioneering Japanese ceramicist Shoji Kamoda (1933–1983), whose short but radical career transformed the very language of clay. Now, his quiet revolution finds a second life, this time, not on the wheel, but on the body.

Kamoda, trained in Kyoto and active in Mashiko and Töno, was known for challenging the boundaries of ceramic form and texture. Through bold glazes, engraved surfaces, and sculptural shapes, he rejected the purely functional in favor of pieces that seemed to hum with inner movement. IM Men, the last line personally envisioned by Issey Miyake, takes that same spirit of experimentation and applies it to cloth. The result is Dancing Texture, a kinetic menswear collection that interprets Kamoda’s essence not as reference, but as transformation.

The show was an audacious, cerebral continuation of Issey Miyake’s vision ~ not simply designed, but engineered, often with humour,  intelligence, and occasionally delightful excess

The performance part of the show added another 

layer of meaning to the collection, with the dancers 

wearing the textiles inspired by Kamoda's pottery.

Photograph: Jay Zoo 

With the guidance of design trio Sen Kawahara, Yuki Itakura, and Nobutaka Kobayashi, the collection unfolded as a dialogue between art and garment. The runway, bathed in the intense light, played host to a series of pieces that shifted, shimmered, and unfolded. 

Dramatic choreography animated the designs in ways that brought Kamoda’s tactile world to life. Like clay turned on a wheel, the clothes seemed to emerge in real time, catching light, casting shadow, constantly re-forming.

Divided into a conceptually rich series, the collection offered a masterclass in textile innovation. The Urokomon series drew from Kamoda’s recurring use of fish scale-like patterns, employing a process where printed designs are gradually revealed by washing away parts of the upper fabric layer, echoing the unpredictability of firing ceramics. The Gintō pieces channeled the metallic lustre of Kamoda’s silver-glazed works, rendered here in fabrics that folded like armor yet floated like paper. Kaiyu used pigment printing to mimic the contrast between celadon glazes and exposed clay, while the Engrave series featured jacquard-woven, heat-sensitive materials that seemed to rise in waves under the touch of warmth.

The ceramicist was most keenly felt in the collection's philosophical undercurrent: the idea that everyday objects, when shaped with care and purpose carry emotional resonance

The designs mixed the futuristic with

folds that related back to origami, plus

the new footwear designed with Asics.

Photograph: Jay Zoo 

Each technique served not as homage, but as extension. Just as Kamoda stretched the boundaries of what ceramics could be, so too does IM Men stretch the assumptions of what menswear can look and feel like. 

The silhouettes ranged from space-age tailoring, coats with collars that unfolded like origami sculptures, to garments that, when laid flat, formed geometric shapes recalling the symmetry of wheel-thrown pots. Throughout, there was a persistent sense of duality: structured yet soft, organic yet engineered, tactile yet futuristic.

Iridescent textiles flashed under the blazing light; oversized hats and sculptural outerwear veered into the surreal. But then came the contrast, a whisper-light tunic in ash green and an urbane black ensemble that grounded the show in a language Miyake always spoke fluently: quiet innovation. These pieces captured the heart of the brand’s legacy, where invention is not a gimmick but a way to honor motion, simplicity, and surprise.

One of the most intriguing additions to this season’s show was the quiet debut of Issey Miyake Foot, a footwear initiative created in collaboration with Asics

IM Men is a return to the early, rigorous

work of Japanese founder Issey Miyake.

Photograph: Jay Zoo 

This was also a show of new beginnings. While Homme Plissé, Miyake’s pleated menswear staple, has now migrated to nomadic presentations abroad, IM Men has taken its place in Paris. 

And with it, a return to the rigorous, conceptual experimentation that defined Miyake’s early career. His influence, both aesthetic and philosophical, was everywhere. The very idea of clothing as an extension of movement, of fabric as a medium to be sculpted, continues to underpin the brand’s evolving identity.

One of the most intriguing additions to this season’s show was the quiet debut of Issey Miyake Foot, a footwear initiative created in collaboration with Asics. 

The first product: Hyper Taping, a laceless shoe built from dynamic straps that sprout from the brand’s iconic side stripe. The result felt more like wearable sculpture than streetwear, its form recalling cleatless football boots, its function grounded in ergonomic design. Much like Kamoda’s vessels, these shoes seemed to reject any single purpose, instead suitable for a range of activities.

While Homme Plissé, Miyake’s pleated menswear staple, has migrated to nomadic presentations abroad, IM Men in Paris has returned to the rigorous, conceptual experimentation that defined Miyake’s early career

The designs were contemporary but with a

 universality that made them feel timeless.

Photograph: Jay Zoo 

At its core, Dancing Texture was an exhibition of restraint and risk, of translating heritage without imitating it. It asked: what happens when the touch of the hand, the movement of the body, and the spirit of craft converge? 

Through the language of materials, IM Men found an answer that felt neither from the past nor futuristic but rather, timeless. Kamoda may have worked in clay, but his legacy now ripples across new surfaces, carried forward by a house that still believes fashion can be sculpture, and that clothing, like ceramics, can hold memory in motion.

The ceramicist was perhaps most keenly felt in the show’s philosophical undercurrent: the idea that everyday objects, when shaped with care and purpose, can carry emotional resonance. Just as Kamoda’s vessels were never just decorative, these garments weren’t merely for show. They invited a slow gaze, a reconsideration of surface and structure, a connection between hand and material that defies trend cycles.

IM Men’s SS26 show was not about nostalgia or legacy maintenance. It was an audacious, cerebral continuation of Issey Miyake’s vision: that clothing is not simply designed, but engineered, often with humor, always with intelligence, and occasionally with delightful excess. In a city overrun with maximalism, it offered a quieter, more studied kind of spectacle, one where fabric and light, tradition, invention and craft could all dance together.

Scroll down to see more highlights from the IM Men collection by Jay Zoo