Not many brands appear in Vogue just a month after launching. Today, however, we present a notable exception. Why? Because over the course of London Fashion Week, members of the team kept independently spotting hard-edged yet ultra-refined shoes anchoring the looks of some of the most stylish show attendees and partygoers – from Princess Julia to Keira Knightley; Sydney Lima to Suki Waterhouse. After much puzzling over who was behind the street-style set’s fave new footwear, the answer revealed itself: Lili Curia.
“Who is this mysterious Lili?” we asked ourselves. “Where did she come from? And why haven’t we heard her name around these streets before?” Well, for starters, she doesn’t actually exist. “She’s an alter ego,” explains Chili Palmer, the label’s founder. “‘Curia’ comes from curiosity, and also a sense of curation – treating life like a collector, which reflects how we bring various treasures and references into our collection. And then ‘Lili’ comes from Lilith, a mythical character who really embodies a fierce, rebellious femininity.”
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A third-generation shoemaker based in London, Palmer honed her skills at Arsutoria, Milan’s prestigious shoe- and bag-making academy. “It’s actually the same school that my dad studied at in the ’70s,” she says. More than a cute anecdote, this handed-down knowledge “definitely influences the quality of the product”, Palmer says. “It really instilled a respect for the craft into me.”
Looking at a pair of Lili Curia shoes – the tall, lace-up Isadora boot, say, or the comma-heeled Victoria mule – the appreciation of craft she describes doesn’t translate to a tradition-bound stereotype of what that should look like, as you might expect. Lili Curia shoes have a defiantly contemporary flair – an almost rebellious aura that explains why they’ve attracted such fabulous fans so early on.
While they may feel of the moment, these shoes still owe a debt to the past. “When we started designing the collection, we really drilled down into our own personal taste and inspirations,” Palmer explains of the creative process she and her Florence-based co-designer, Raquel Segui, have developed. “We have a room in the design studio just for our secondhand and vintage shoes, which we take lots of different references from, almost like magpies,” she says.
“The black Isadora boots feel both hardy and elegant – shoes built for a frazzled English Victorian lady traversing the Yorkshire moors,” says Vogue’s news editor Anna Cafolla, who adds that, yes, she is re-reading Wuthering Heights. “I wore them to the Royal Ballet’s opening night with a silk and velvet LBD from Hai, and with pistachio-coloured Cawley shorts and a T-shirt to the pub. What I like about Lili Curia is this balance of strength and femininity, vintage charm with some modern edge, functionality and statement.”
Beyond the Vogue office, the brand is resonating with a burgeoning audience of artists and creatives – including Paris-based painter Tali Lennox, who starred in the brand’s seductively sombre launch campaign. “It’s been amazing to see how organically people who feel super aligned with the brand have been drawn to it,” Palmer says.
Another delightfully contemporary aspect of the brand is its price point. Despite the focus on craftsmanship, the price tags – ranging from £280 to £465 – do not induce quite the same gulp that the cost of a barely-there kitten mule from a larger luxury brand is liable to these days. Sexy shoes you’ll want to walk a mile in, and at a justifiable cost? Little wonder Lili Curia is the name on everyone in London’s lips right now.


