Paris, still lovely and looping.
Margot Robbie moves through a Chanel film that doesn’t reference Come Into My World so much as reopen it – directed again by Michel Gondry, with Kylie Minogue’s voice threading the entire structure back to 2001. What unfolds feels less like a fashion campaign and more like a lovely piece of storytelling returning to itself.
In 2001, Gondry’s original video transformed a central Paris intersection into a closed circuit. Kylie walked, the camera tracked, and with each completed loop, another version of her appeared, perfectly timed, perfectly repeated, reality stacking without visible seams. It was super avant-garde. The idea was simple, but the effect was disorienting: it was replicated and inspired a multitude of music video’s and movie’s with the choreography as accumulation and this form of presence built through repetition.
Chanel returns to that same logic and crucially, to Paris. The streets hold the loop, allowing movement to reset and repeat without rupture. Where the original video foregrounded the trick, this version diffuses it. The repetition is softer, less declared, but still felt like time folding gently in on itself as Robbie moves through the frame.
Kylie also reappears physically, not just on the track that carries her presence. Her voice pulls the entire film back toward its origin point, holding the memory of the walk, the timing, the multiplication. It turns the piece into a kind of temporal overlap, cannot believe it was 25 years ago and now coexisting in the same visual grammar.
Margot Robbie is now moving through the same system, another pass through the loop. The symbolic symmetry is hard to ignore. Both emerged from Neighbours, both exported into global image-making machines, one multiplied into pop iconography, the other refracted through cinema and now fashion.
There’s something circular in that. Earlier, reading Kylie Minogue (Little People, Big Dreams) with my niece, where her image reduced to bold outlines and origin story, the loop was already there. Kylie repeating, just in a different format. To a little one, she is ‘Kylie Pop.’
And beneath it all, Chanel keeps the object steady and you could say in focus. The handbag becomes the only fixed point in a moving system, reappearing across iterations, absorbing the logic of repetition until it feels inevitable. Gondry’s looping device, once playful and almost invisible, now carries a different weight, turning circulation into desire.
We adore the nostalgia. We only wish it lasted longer in it’s continuation. The same city, the same mechanism, revisited with a different body and a clearer purpose. When it comes to fashion films they are always far too short and sweet but you might say that the loop never really ended, it just resets, and runs again.