The Kardashians, Rhode and $620 Jeans: My Saturday Off

I crossed the harbour. The internet came with me.

Saturday began with thunder.

Heavy rain woke me in Sliema, and quite a lot of it had found its way inside my seafront home. Outside, Manoel Island and Valletta were still there, looking beautiful through weather that was making itself rather too comfortable in my living space.

Yes, the view is enviable. I am prepared to admit this while dealing with water that belongs on the other side of the window.

By the afternoon, I took the ferry across to Valletta.

I had no desire to work. I barely wanted to look at a computer. FreeMalta could manage without my attention for a few hours. Gambity too. Everything was running.

I wanted a Saturday.

Unfortunately, I have weaknesses.

Celebrity gossip is one of them.

Even Kris Jenner has an AI problem now

The Kardashians are back, and I had not watched the new episode.

Naturally, I wanted to know what had happened.

Their eighth season opened on October 8 with AI versions of the family. Faces distort, extra fingers appear, and the real Kardashians find themselves confronting their synthetic counterparts. AI Kris explains some of the production benefits: fewer scheduling problems and the ability to cry without ruining her makeup. The opening sequence

I spend enough of my working life thinking about AI. Apparently, taking the day off now involves finding it in Kris Jenner’s kitchen.

I can appreciate the joke. This family knows what it takes to turn a life into a production schedule. Somewhere, a fictional AI Kris has looked at the calendar and decided she can improve efficiency.

Meanwhile, Kourtney has been discussing Jennifer Lawrence calling her annoying. The comment upset her, particularly given Jennifer’s friendship with Kris. Jennifer later sent an apology, and Kourtney described eventually softening her reaction. The reported exchange

Now we are getting somewhere.

An actress annoys a woman whose mother happens to be her friend. Feelings are hurt. An email follows. This is a perfectly reasonable thing to investigate on an afternoon when I am refusing to investigate anything useful.

That Rhode photograph

Then there is Rhode.

I think this is one of the best pieces of marketing I have seen.

Two women facing each other, towels wrapped around their hair, cream on their cheeks. Warm light, a little grain, and the words “gone masking.”

My eye goes to the photograph before I read anything about the masks. The image makes a skincare routine feel like an afternoon I would like to borrow.

There is no product bottle demanding my attention. The photograph has already done the work.

By the time I reach the description, I am interested.

I should disclose a small bias here: I like Hailey and Justin Bieber. I find them endearing.

Justin seems more reserved to me these days. I find myself noticing how far he feels from the boy so many people remember. Sometimes, watching him, I feel a little sad. I get the impression of someone carrying storms that a photograph cannot explain.

That is my response as a viewer. I have no way of knowing what he is feeling.

Perhaps that is why I hesitate when a conversation reduces people to brands, valuations and engagement figures. I enjoy the gossip. I also find myself hoping they are happy when nobody is watching.

Then I look at the Rhode photograph again and admire how well it holds my attention.

Apparently, my day off now includes studying skincare advertising.

A bathroom shelf can become a fan club

Rhode and Rare Beauty are an irresistible pairing for a culture writer: Hailey Bieber and Selena Gomez, beauty products, enormous public attention, and audiences ready to inspect every detail.

I am interested in what happens when that attention reaches the checkout.

A beauty product has a practical job. It also sits on your bathroom shelf, comes out of your handbag and appears in your photographs. Packaging becomes part of the pleasure. So does the identity of the person behind it.

For some customers, buying a product can feel like joining a world.

For others, it is simply a blush that works.

The internet tends to prefer the first explanation. It gives everybody more to argue about.

I would rather look at how the brands build those worlds than invent a fresh personal feud between their founders.

Rare Beauty has another commercial chapter arriving on October 12: a second collaboration with Shay Mitchell’s travel brand BÉIS, including luggage and a makeup set. Marie Claire’s preview

Your makeup needs a bag. The bag needs somewhere to go. Soon, the brand can accompany you through the airport.

I enjoy watching how an entire lifestyle assembles itself around something that began on a dressing table.

Walmart has entered the fitting room

Then I found the jeans.

A $620 Khaite pair has become the reference point for a $30 Walmart lookalike, designed under Brandon Maxwell’s work with the retailer. The resemblance has attracted its own round of fashion coverage. The reported comparison

Six hundred and twenty dollars is a serious conversation to have with a pair of trousers.

I am willing to hear the argument. Cut, fabric, construction, fit. Good clothes can change how you feel the moment you put them on.

But the Walmart version raises a question I find more interesting than the familiar outrage about expensive clothes.

What happens when a much cheaper pair can communicate a similar look?

Perhaps the original loses some exclusivity. Perhaps it gains an audience. Someone discovers Khaite through the affordable alternative and starts imagining the day they might buy the expensive one.

The resemblance alone cannot tell us whether the quality or fit is comparable. It can tell us how quickly a recognisable style travels.

Luxury buyers are not automatically fools. People pay for pleasure, craftsmanship, confidence and recognition in different proportions.

Still, at $620, I would want those jeans to participate meaningfully in my life.

Which brings me to the hooves

Maison Margiela’s Tabi shoes require a slightly different conversation.

I understand expensive shoes. I am still negotiating with the idea of expensive hooves.

The split-toe design draws on traditional Japanese tabi socks. Margiela’s official description places its introduction in the house’s debut collection in 1989. One current slip-on model is listed at $1,280. Maison Margiela

I can appreciate the history and still need a moment with the shape.

But that shape is what makes the shoe so interesting.

You notice it. You form an opinion. Later, you see a pair on someone whose taste you admire. What looked peculiar begins to look deliberate, then perhaps desirable.

I suspect some of the pleasure comes from recognising something other people dismiss.

Taste can feel particularly personal when it requires a little explanation. There is satisfaction in seeing beauty where your friend sees a veterinary appointment.

And if everybody loved the shoe immediately, would its admirers love it quite as much?

A perfectly respectable waste of an afternoon

By this point, my Saturday had acquired synthetic Kardashians, a very good skincare photograph, celebrity luggage, expensive denim and divided toes.

I could probably force a business lesson out of all of it.

I would rather leave a little room for enjoyment.

I like seeing what people make, what they buy, what they argue about, and the extraordinary seriousness with which we approach objects nobody strictly needs.

I include myself in that.

The morning had brought rain into my home. The afternoon had taken me across the harbour. Somewhere along the way, I wanted to know what the Kardashians were doing.

I had planned to give the internet a day off.

Gossip got a visitor’s pass.