Marine Serre 'Afternoon in Los Angeles' Fall 2025 Ad Campaign

Review of Marine Serre ‘Afternoon in Los Angeles‘ Fall 2025 Ad Campaign by Photographers Julia et Vincent with models Dalton, Vicki Baids

Marine Serre trades the runway for the soundstage in Act II of her Fall 2025 campaign, and it’s a move that feels as deliberate as it is disorienting. Shot by Julia & Vincent with video direction by Adrien Lallau, this chapter—Afternoon in Los Angeles—slides into a Lynchian liminal space where time stands still, lovers speak in codes, and emotion flickers behind vertical blinds.

Set in a nondescript mid-century interior—the kind you could drive past a thousand times on Sunset Boulevard without noticing—the mise-en-scène is minimal, but loaded. White leather sofas sit too cleanly. The walls are cool, the carpet a surreal electric teal. Shadows from the blinds stripe the floor like prison bars. There’s a phone, off the hook. A cigarette, unlit. A look that lingers one beat too long. The whole thing hums with unspoken drama.

Rather than explain, the imagery suggests—borrowing more from Mulholland Drive than a traditional fashion narrative. The two women, played by models Dalton and Vicki Baids, orbit one another in an elliptical choreography: legs entangled, arms draped, lips slightly parted but silent. Their connection is intense yet unreadable—erotic, melancholic, possibly dangerous. Are they lovers? Strangers? Doppelgängers? It’s left deliciously vague.

The styling by Benoit Bethume leans into that ambiguity, with a wardrobe that sharpens the tension between strength and vulnerability. Serre’s tailoring takes center stage—structured coats, sculptural leather dresses, padded shoulders that call back to both 50s glamour and 80s power dressing—but softened with satin blouses, sheer lace, and layered lingerie. There’s always a bit of duality with Serre, and here it plays out as both sensuality and control.

One piece that recurs with quiet authority is the Futura bag in embossed black leather. It’s compact and curved, tucked under the arm or dangling from a wrist, and it reads like a noir MacGuffin—mysterious, essential, potentially dangerous. It doesn’t scream status; it murmurs secrets.

By releasing Act II before Acts I and III, Serre inverts the expected arc and centers the campaign not around linear storytelling, but mood. And that feels right for a House less interested in literal communication than emotional residue. What remains after the viewing isn’t a plot, but a palette: icy blue light, cherry red lips, the hush of California dusk. You don’t need to “get it” to feel it.

The campaign doesn’t just borrow cinematic language—it speaks it fluently. For a brand that continues to evolve beyond its streetwear origins, this is a confident next chapter. Serre isn’t just designing clothes—she’s directing atmosphere. And in 2025, that may be the sharpest narrative of all.