With Gucci Lido Spring 2025, the house drifts from destination to emotion—trading geography for mood in a languid ode to Mediterranean leisure. Shot through the poetic lens of Jim Goldberg and directed cinematically by Rubberband, the campaign unspools like a faded travel diary rather than a commercial showcase. It’s not about where you are, but how it feels to be gently suspended in time.

Starring Daisy Edgar-Jones, Aliocha Schneider, and David Jonsson, the cast is captured not as models, but as sun-drunk muses—caught mid-thought, mid-afternoon, mid-forgetfulness. There are no poses, only passing glances and quiet gestures: a tilt of the head on a sailboat, bare feet tracing heat into terracotta. The result is pure intimacy—softly lit, unforced, and profoundly atmospheric.

Wardrobe styling by Virginie Benarroch imbues this visual lull with tactile grace. Breezy crochet knits, raffia textures, and washed silks echo the ease of long summer days. Iconic Gucci motifs—horsebit loafers, bamboo handles, the GG monogram—resurface with the understated charm of essentials packed for years. Colors blur like old Polaroids: sea-glass greens, bleached coral, and whispering neutrals.

Hair by Lukas Tralmer and makeup by Jo Baker and Christelle Cocquet complete the mood with an artful touch of undone glamour—sun-kissed skin, windswept textures, and barely-there finishes that mirror the collection’s effortless sensuality. The beauty looks don't dominate; they whisper in harmony with the clothes, anchored in realism and restrained elegance.

More than a campaign, Gucci Lido is a sensory journal. Handwritten fragments like “music playing from fuzzy speakers” and “the day I forgot my hat” are scrawled across the images, not as slogans but as echoes—intimate memories rendered tactile. These visual whispers add a raw human texture that lingers, reinforcing the house’s shift toward introspective luxury.

By resisting the urge for structure or spectacle, Gucci Lido makes its boldest statement yet: that luxury, in its most enduring form, lives in feeling—not in definition. It’s a slow dissolve into beauty, where fashion becomes memory and sunlight becomes the narrative.