This story appears in i-D 374, The Unknown Issue. Get yours now.
photography RICHIE SHAZAM
styling BRIANA ANDALORE
text AKOSUA ADASI
With Her Cerebral Designs, Torishéju Dumi Invites Us To Dream Bigger
Location: London
For designer Torishéju Dumi, fashion is a process of problem-solving—whether it’s figuring out how to cut a pattern or translate an intricate idea into a wearable garment. With her namesake brand, the London-based designer follows inspiration to its natural conclusion, producing collections full of thought-provoking, delectable designs. Even with her dreamy perspective, it’s by treating each idea like a puzzle that she creates pieces we’re desperate to wear.
Dumi first discovered her love for fashion during an art foundation course at De Montfort University. Already passionate about art and storytelling, she found designers like Giles Deacon and Alexander McQueen—and realized what garments could say. From there, she studied menswear at London College of Fashion, interning in Berlin, New York, and Antwerp, with names like Phillip Lim, Studio Winkler, and Ann Demeulemeester. A formative internship at Céline under Phoebe Philo sharpened her sense of detail and precision. She later joined the MA program at Central Saint Martins, again focusing on menswear.
Though now focused on womenswear, she sees menswear’s tailoring and silhouettes as key to expanding who garments can be for. Her rich, esoteric pieces often evoke Dutch painters or Louise Bourgeois sculptures—and in 2024, The Met acquired seven looks from her MAMI WATA collection.
Dumi’s work has attracted a powerful creative circle, from Gabriella Karefa-Johnson to Zendaya. But at heart, she’s here to tell stories through clothes—and invite us all to dream bigger.
What made you want to start your own brand?
After my internship with Ann Demeulemeester. I didn’t know if I wanted a brand, but I knew I didn’t want to work for other people anymore. You need some ego to start your own thing—and that’s not a bad thing.
Biggest challenges as a newer womenswear designer?
I’m organized, but scaling that is tough. You’re the sole owner—no one to rely on. It’s not just designing; it’s invoices, taxes, production lines, payments, percentages. So many things I didn’t think I could do—I had to do by force.
Which artists, books, or films inspire your research?
I love 15th-century Northern Renaissance art. Artists like Albrecht Dürer and his wood etchings. Leonora Carrington—so much meaning in her work. David Lynch. My dad once put on Mulholland Drive when I was young. I didn’t know what it was, just thought, “This is so much drama. I love it.”
Hopes for the future?
First, I hope I’m healthy. I want to distill what I say better, work faster, think smarter. For fashion, I hope people start telling interesting stories—or say nothing at all. Let us dream.
Come For the Ribbons and Bows. Stay for the Complexity.
Location: Tokyo
Designer Jen-Fang Shueh makes clothes for girls unafraid to wear their feelings. The designer behind Jenny Fax, the Tokyo-based brand that recently debuted at Paris Fashion Week, finds the modern woman’s freedom inspiring—and complicated. That complexity drives the brand, which Shueh launched in 2011 after several years working at her husband Mikio Sakabe’s label. The two met at Belgium’s La Cambre and moved to Tokyo to launch his brand after graduation. Though she supported him happily, Shueh eventually felt the pull to create something of her own. And so, Jenny Fax was born—named for her nickname and the enduringly charming technology she loves: the fax machine.
Shueh’s desire to capture the contradictions of womanhood is personal. She recalls designing her first pieces with her sister in mind. In Taiwan, her sister’s tomboy style drew odd looks in hyper-feminine stores. Shueh wanted to design clothes that embraced complexity and reflected real, multifaceted personalities.
In her Spring 2025 collection, fantasy reigned: lace bloomers, curved-sole Mary Janes, and bags resembling stitched-together ballet flats. Nothing practical—exactly how Shueh likes it. Growing up with four siblings, shopping was about utility, not fantasy. “You cannot have any princess shoes,” she recalls. Now, she’s making them herself—modern versions with oversized bows and platform soles, meant for stomping through Tokyo, not waiting for rescue.
While Shueh embraces “cute,” she resists it as a stand-in for “commercial.” Her brand is about quality, imagination, and community—like the workshops she hosts in Tokyo, where fans craft their own Jenny Fax pieces by hand.
How would you describe your brand’s ideal fan?
The Jenny Fax girl is everyone—but especially not the typical type. They’re wondering a lot, full of stress and conflict about life. I want to design for those girls. They deserve attention.
How do you define femininity?
Femininity is freedom—and a little selfish. Today I can be sad, tomorrow really happy. It’s personal, emotional. No rules.
What role is femininity starting to play in fashion and culture?
In my mom’s generation, women were hidden or had to accept their fate. Then came a revolution: women had to show their power. Now, we can be super weak, super angry—we have the freedom to be many things.
What challenges have you faced as a designer?
One fear is that fans think, “This old woman is pretending to make young things.” That was scary. Also, with Y2K trends, shops said, “Make things shorter, tighter.” The challenge is staying focused. There are so many voices, but you have to believe in your vision.
What’s your fashion community in Tokyo like?
Some workshop girls are super quiet, doing their own thing. Many love the cute aesthetic—total Lolita style or full Jenny Fax. They just want to be in a space that feels cute and safe.
Miss Claire Sullivan’s Flirty and Frothy Designs Are the Ultimate Fashion Fantasy
Location: New York
When Addison Rae walked the 2024 VMAs red carpet in a white lingerie set and dramatic tutu—a Madonna-meets-Club-Kid look—no one could’ve predicted the internet uproar. Least of all the designer, New York-based Claire Sullivan. Some saw the look as a nod to the VMAs’ glory days; others missed the vision entirely. The look went viral. Sullivan, unfazed, took it in stride. “It was definitely polarizing,” she says. “But if people are debating it, that means it struck a chord. That’s how you know you did something right.”
That attitude—joyful, playful, and grounded—is part of what’s propelled Sullivan forward. Since launching Miss Claire Sullivan, her designs have caught the eye of Young Hollywood and beyond. She’s collaborated on custom looks for the Met Gala (with Vogue’s Chioma Nnadi) and Sarah Jessica Parker (Vogue digital cover, 2024), reinterpreting iconic fashion moments through her own frothy lens. While fashion history looms large, Sullivan sees reference points as liberating—not limiting. Her designs are always, unmistakably, her own.
Sullivan’s obsession with clothes started young. “Fashion, for me, has always been about getting into a character,” she says. “It also felt protective—like a little shield.” That sense of fantasy-as-armor runs through all her work: sheer heart-print catsuits, silky hot pink bustiers, and her signature tutus. These are clothes for dancing, dreaming, and being extra—in the best way.
You’ve said designing should be fun. Why? And how do you stay connected to that?
Because this industry is intense. It’s easy to get lost in the pressure. But I’m lucky—I get to create. Even if fashion can feel frivolous, it has the power to be meaningful. If I’m not having fun, how can it be meaningful? Without joy, it’s just surface. For me, fun comes from collaboration—connecting with the right energy. There’s nothing like custom-making something and seeing the client light up when they try it on. That moment fuels everything. That’s where the joy is.
What challenges have you faced as a younger designer?
So many! There’s a lot of talk lately about how hard it is for young designers—and it’s all true. We need more resources, mentorship, funding, and real support. People think attention means success, but that’s rarely the case. Doing things differently has felt like its own form of resistance. Just existing this way in the industry feels like shifting something.
How do you define femininity?
For me, femininity is intuitive—flirtatious, sensual, spiritual. It’s about tapping into something elusive and sultry. There’s a cultural obsession with femininity, and also so much shame around it. That tension fascinates me. I think most people, consciously or not, want to hold some piece of it within themselves.
What are your hopes and plans for the future?
To keep going. To stay open. More will be revealed.
Girls, Girls, Girls! Lucila Safdie Is Making Clothes For The Girls Who Get It
Location: London
Lucila Safdie is for the girls. The Argentine-born, London-based designer has built a cult following among young women drawn to her cheeky, trend-savvy clothes. Her collections—she recently debuted her fourth, Farewell Princess—pull from history and cinema’s most iconic women, featuring frilly hot pants, preppy halters, and lace-trimmed minidresses. Her references include Grace Kelly and The Virgin Suicides, but while her inspirations may lean tragic, her clothes are playful—perfect for the kind of girl with a million moodboards and a habit of taking herself on solo Barbican dates.
Safdie’s love of fashion started young, sparked by a trip to the U.S. and her discovery of fashion magazines like LOVE. She made clothes for her mom as a kid (though her mom wasn’t a fan back then—she is now). At 18, Safdie applied to Central Saint Martins, and never looked back.
Her brand began after quitting a dull postgrad job. She started making clothes, styling them on friends, and posting the shoots online. Interest snowballed. “It felt more connected to who I am and what I like,” she says. “When people started wanting to buy it, I had to learn quickly—how can I make this work?” Now, her Instagram has over 27,000 followers, and fans include Devon Lee Carlson and Sexyy Red.
She stays grounded through pop-ups at her studio and her film club at Genesis Cinema. Community matters—and so does the girl who gets it.
How did you get started in fashion?
Looking back at baby photos, my mom used to dress me up a lot. I always loved clothes, shopping—all of that. When I first went to the U.S. from Argentina, I saw fashion magazines for the first time. Through them, I understood fashion as an industry. Around 13 or 14, I started blogging, and that just kept growing. When I learned about Central Saint Martins, it became my dream.
How would you describe your brand’s ideal fan?
Girls who like clothes and are interested in different stuff. Smart girls. I like to think it’s for girls with many layers—an awareness of not being just one thing.
Any books or films inspiring you right now?
I’ve been reading Anne Carson—An Oresteia right now, but The Beauty of the Husband is my favorite. Lately, I’ve been watching Monica Vitti films like L’eclisse and The Phantom of Liberty. I think that’ll come into my next collection somehow.
How do you define femininity?
Femininity is owning what makes you feel like yourself. I don’t think there’s one way. It’s about connecting to your own energy—everyone creates their own version of feminine.
What challenges have you faced as a younger designer?
The usual—how to be commercially functional. I’m not great with numbers or practicality. It’s hard to hire when you’re small. My brother studied finance, so he helps a lot. I’m learning by talking to smart people.
What are your hopes and plans for the future?
One day, I’d love to do a fashion show—but only when it feels right. I also want to keep doing Lucila’s Film Club at Genesis. That’s been really special.
This Designer Has No Cruel Intentions—She’s Just Having Fun
Location: London
Designer Laura Andraschko is just having fun—and she wants you to know it. That carefree, cheeky spirit pulses through the collections of the London-based designer who’s making waves with her tongue-in-cheek take on indie sleaze. Her sharp-shouldered blazers, studded belts, and ultra-skinny jeans earned her the label of indie sleaze revivalist—a tag she embraces. Her Fall 2024 collection was even shot by the genre’s godfather, Mark Hunter, aka the Cobrasnake. But for Andraschko, it’s all about irony. Her clothes are playful homages, not nostalgic crutches. Don’t take them too seriously.
Raised in Berlin, she first fell for fashion watching the eccentric patrons of her parents’ restaurant. That love turned into a stint at a Berlin fashion school and internships—including one at Ann Demeulemeester, where she learned tailoring by befriending a cutter on the side. Afterward, she moved to London and enrolled at Central Saint Martins.
Andraschko’s Spring 2025 collection, Sloane Ranger, reflects a new direction. Inspired by the polished girls in her West London neighborhood, it featured tennis sweaters and riding boots—styled with tongue-in-cheek twists like “Entitled C*nt” slogans. It’s a shift, but not a departure. “The girl I’m designing for is always the same,” she says. “Maybe she’s a West London girl that was a club rat.”
Her latest collection, Apres Ski, continues the satire—Austrian mountainwear meets mega-bling party culture. Equal parts homage and parody. Through it all, Andraschko is still having fun.
Who is your brand’s fan, real or imagined?
She’s grown up a bit. She’s more serious now, but still has fun. My designs are ironic and satirical, so it’s for someone who doesn’t take themselves too seriously.
As a self-described “club rat,” how has music and nightlife influenced your design approach?
I did that hardcore clubbing phase early, and now it’s faded. I love a dive bar now—some gross little place until six in the morning with friends. That’s my vibe more than the rave scene these days.
How do you define femininity?
I want women to feel empowered, strong, beautiful—to wear clothes that feel like armor. Femininity has a strong side and a maternal side. It’s philosophical—it depends on the situation.
What challenges have you faced as a younger designer?
The biggest challenge is the tension between what I want to do and what commercially works. I fight with people: “I only want these pieces.” But they say, “You need more commercial pieces.” I’ve become more stubborn. It’s messy, but weirdly, it works. You put out what you love—not what you compromised on.
What art or music is inspiring you right now?
My music taste is vast and weird. I go through phases—folkloric Eastern European music, for example. I love old paintings, like Caravaggio. Tobias Spichtig is a cool Berlin artist—his paintings of women with strange silhouettes really inspire me.
Yaz XL Is Making Garments for a Whole New World
Location: London
Yaz XL’s work doesn’t just catch your eye—it transports you. The London-based designer is putting freakiness back in fashion, blending cosplay and costume techniques with sculptural design to craft pieces that feel like they’ve stepped out of another dimension. Think: black leather gloves with sculpted silicone palms, or a bizarre, furry Whiptail bag that looks ready to scurry off on its own.
Inspired by sci-fi and fantasy films like Alien, Titans, and The Fifth Element, Yaz XL (aka Exall) is just as fascinated by the behind-the-scenes moments—the guy in a band tee sculpting a Predator mask in a messy workshop—as she is by the cinematic spectacle. Her work lives in that collision between the everyday and the surreal.
Trained in sculpture and ceramics, Exall is a self-taught prosthetics maker whose graduate collection involved welding, woodworking, and 3D printing. Her pieces have caught the eye of FKA twigs, who commissioned her eerie Capricorn fetus sculpture for Caprisongs. She’s now styling for twigs’ Eusexua experience and even appeared in the campaign.
Though increasingly visible, Exall has mixed feelings about producing more garments in a world already overflowing with them. She’s vocal about the industry’s unsustainable pace and the creative cost it demands. Still, she’s committed to fashion’s potential to spark new worlds. She’s part of Nasir Mazhar’s Fantastic Toiles initiative and just moved into a new studio, working alongside friends like Olly Shinder. Collaboration—and community—keeps her going.
How did you get started in fashion?
I was going to study fine art and sculpture. A tutor told me, “It is sculpture—it’s just on the body.” I liked that restriction. Before, it felt like I had unlimited materials and mediums. During my art foundation, I tried everything: graphics, fine art, fashion, furniture. After I did fashion, they said, “You should do this.” I applied to Central Saint Martins and studied Fashion Design with Marketing.
Describe the person Yaz XL is for.
Free thinkers who aren’t afraid to stick out. So far, I’ve attracted a gentle, interesting community—very curious, inquisitive, and well-researched.
What challenges have you faced as a younger designer?
Taking the leap from making samples to reproducing them and building a business. That’s been the biggest hurdle, and I think every brand hits it.
How have you dealt with that?
Leaning on people who’ve done it. I’m collaborating with Eden Tan on the Whiptail bag. Putting heads together helps.
Do you think fashion can be sustainable?
I think it could. The whole model needs to slow down. Uniforms, organic cottons, less plastic—those are positives. I think collections should be one per year and really special.
What’s inspiring you right now?
Light. James Turrell, light effects, translucency—how light moves through things excites me. Honestly, cotton too. It vibrates with the body in a way synthetics don’t. It’s incredible.
The Designer Who Wants to Make Dresses That Make You Think
Location: New York
“I dream of making,” says New York-based designer Max Donahue, founder of the label 1111. Raised just outside Boston, Donahue’s love of fashion began early, when dressing up became a way to explore identity and possibility. That impulse—fashion as self-presentation and worldbuilding—continues to inform her current practice: dramatic, mind-bending garments that inspire awe and spark thought.
Since graduating from Parsons in 2021, Donahue has focused on custom pieces for clients like Eartheater, Cardi B, and Noah Cyrus. While she has no plans to produce full ready-to-wear collections, she occasionally drops limited pieces on her site—when they’re gone, they’re gone. That ephemerality speaks to her deep interest in fashion as a marker of time. “You can look at what someone’s wearing and tell where and when they are,” she says. “That’s something I find beautiful.”
It’s also why she’s drawn to knitwear. Donahue learned to knit during her second year at Parsons and acquired a knitting machine during the pandemic. Now, vibrant, body-skimming dresses and mohair off-the-shoulder tops are her signature. Though handmade, they’re not “cozy”—they’re built for going out and being seen.
In addition to fashion, Donahue works in sculpture and digital art. Her designs—like her upcoming stop-motion doll project—build immersive worlds. Her hope? That people don’t just wear her dresses—they think with them.
What challenges have you faced as a younger designer?
Fashion’s made me a bit jaded—I struggle to find my place, which I think is partly intentional. I like being outside the system, but I also want to be accepted. After school, I emailed everyone—stylists, designers, magazines—just trying to be seen. It worked for a while, but I started to feel small and undervalued.
Now, I work with a few stylists I respect and trust. They hit me up every few months with a project, and I ride that wave of inspiration. That fuels me.
What’s your creative community like?
It’s the people in my life. Most of them are creatives—my best friend does hair, I have friends who design books, do graphic design. I like making things with the people around me. Even brief interactions with strangers can inform my work. That’s part of my community too.
Are you involved in New York’s nightlife scene?
When I was younger, definitely—Thursday, Friday, Saturday, I was out. These days, I prefer spending late nights in the studio. But I do think going out is important.
What’s inspiring you right now?
Memories—personal ones. And it depends on the day. I love Surrealist films. A favorite is On the Silver Globe by Andrzej Żuławski. I’ve been rewatching Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle. I like art that builds clear, immersive worlds.
Lately, I’ve been reading philosophy—Heidegger’s The Question Concerning Technology. I don’t absorb it all, but I like grappling with big ideas.
How do you define femininity?
Femininity is warmth, compassion, and gentleness—with yourself and others—but it can also be strong. It’s whatever you make it. I feel most secure in my femininity when I’m with others who freely express theirs.
The Demicouturier Making Confidence-Boosting Gowns
Location: London
For London-based demicouturier Ellie Misner, launching her own brand wasn’t part of the plan. After graduating from the University of Brighton’s Fashion Design and Business program in 2019, she envisioned travel and a job at a fashion house. But when the pandemic hit, Misner began creating her own designs to manage the mental toll of lockdown. After a few years honing her craft through seamstress jobs, she debuted her first demicouture collection under her eponymous label. Two years later, she’s working on her third—hoping to present it at London Fashion Week this September.
Her first glimpse of fashion magic came from her mother’s copy of Manolo Blahnik: Fleeting Gestures and Obsessions. “I used to just trace [the designs] and do my own,” she recalls.
Inspired by early Balenciaga and Givenchy, Misner’s designs are whimsical, Gothic, and body-conscious, centered around her signature corset silhouettes. Her gowns demand presence—“a very assertive way of dressing,” she says.
Working in demicouture—a space between ready-to-wear and haute couture—gives Misner the freedom to experiment while still producing accessible garments. For her clients, wearing a piece means “becoming the art piece.” She’s already crafted custom looks for Katy Perry, Halle Bailey, Raye, and Khloe Kardashian.
Her latest collection, I Love Lamp, took inspiration from Erté illustrations and her grandmothers’ vintage lampshades, resulting in beaded gowns and haunting veils. Playful, dramatic, and deeply personal—Misner’s work is lighting the way forward.
Who are the artists that inspire you?
I loved Francis Bacon. I went to a Georgia O’Keeffe exhibition years ago—that really stuck with me. Basquiat, too. But it’s more a lifetime of loving art and going to galleries than any one person.
Who do you imagine being drawn to your brand?
Someone totally confident, very chic, with a little bit of whimsy. They collect art and vintage pieces, surround themselves with creative things, and love color, silhouette, and sculpture. Someone fabulous.
What challenges have you faced as a younger designer in womenswear?
Money—working for free, living check to check. Learning to price myself properly has helped. Also, comparison. It’s hard not to compare yourself to others. I’ve had that conversation with a lot of designers.
How do you define femininity?
It no longer feels anti-feminist to embrace femininity. I can be modern and still wear what I want. I’m not the most feminine designer, but I do corsetry and accentuate shape. Femininity looks different for everyone—it’s what you want it to be.
Let’s talk about corsets. How did they become so central to your work?
For my grad collection, I was focused on Mister Pearl—how men in corsets mixed with tailoring could become womenswear. Corsets are fab. They completely alter your shape. I use padding, Regency techniques, panniers, and more to exaggerate form. They work on any size, any body—they’re never one-size-fits-all.
Caroline Hu’s Dreamy Gowns Are Making a Case for the Power of Fantasy
Location: Shanghai
In an age ruled by corpcore and quiet luxury, Caroline Hu’s fantastical gowns feel like a breath of fresh air. Since launching her namesake label nearly seven years ago, the Shanghai-based designer has become known for creating romantic, sculptural pieces in silk organza, hazy florals, and layers of taffeta that bloom away from the body. Her collections are living gardens, with adjustable wire hems and thoughtful tailoring adding volume, grace, and a sense of magic.
Hu’s love of structure and color began in childhood. Her father was an oil painter, and a ceramics class in high school sparked her sensitivity to form. Those early influences still guide her work. While completing her MFA at Parsons, Hu discovered a smocking technique that mimicked the texture of oil painting—now a hallmark of her designs. “Fabric is my medium,” she says. “The human form is my canvas.”
She’s particularly interested in how the body moves through space. Her amoeba-like gowns and tulip-shaped skirts evoke flow and transformation. At her SS25 presentation, dancers Emma Portner and Leo Walk floated down the runway in Hu’s pieces, bringing the garments to life. Portner also appeared in Hu’s recent Adidas campaign.
Though her gowns may look soft, they carry weight. Her ideal client is someone with a rich inner world—and the confidence to express it. “The most powerful thing a person can do,” Hu says, “is live boldly from within.”
How did you get started in fashion?
My father was an oil painter, and a ceramics teacher in high school had a big impact on me. Early exposure to art informed my love for all creative forms. I went to Central Saint Martins, then Parsons for my MFA. I worked with designers like Tory Burch and Jason Wu before starting my brand in 2018. Ceramics taught me sensitivity to shape and structure, and painting gave me a deep understanding of color and emotion—those influences guide how I interpret fashion now.
Who is your brand’s fan, real or imagined?
Our clients range widely in age, from young adults to mature collectors. What unites them is a love for art and fashion—and a desire for rare, expressive pieces. Your collections often explore ideas of space.
How do you think about where your pieces will live?
I use fabric and fashion to express ideas and comment on the world—including politics and social issues. I love exploring the space between people and how perception shapes connection. My designs aim to create a fantastical, romantic world that invites reflection.
What challenges have you faced as a young designer?
Like most young designers, learning the business side was the biggest challenge. Designing is the joyful part, but building a profitable, sustainable brand takes constant adjustment. There’s no set path, so I’ve learned to stay flexible and make smart changes when needed.
How do you define femininity?
Femininity is a mix of strength and charm—it’s not fixed or limited to one gender. It evolves with experience, culture, and emotion. Every self-aware person can embody femininity in their own way. That diversity is what fashion should celebrate.
What’s inspiring you right now?
I’ve been reading Carl Jung—psychology has always fascinated me. A lot of my inspiration comes from emotions, daily life, and the events unfolding in the world around us.
Rituals, Colonial History, and Antelope Horns: Cathy Meyong’s Creations Carry a Powerful Message
Location: London
Growing up in the East German countryside, designer Cathy Meyong didn’t have much access to high fashion. With the nearest option being the local H&M, she began modifying clothes as a teen—kickstarting a lifelong love of fashion. When it came time to choose a university, she Googled “best fashion school in the world.” Central Saint Martins came up. “If I wanted to be the best, I had to go to the best,” she says. Her first application was rejected, but she took the time to refine her skills, intern, and sharpen her voice. Eventually, she made it in.
With a Cameroonian and German background, Meyong draws on both worlds to explore identity and rewrite the narratives she grew up with. Her graduate collection was grounded in research on West African spirituality and the impacts of European colonization—emphasizing how traditions like voodoo remain vital and practiced today.
That history comes alive in her designs: oversized fur boots, antelope horns twisted into collars, silver bodysuits recalling West African warrior regalia. She sources all animal materials secondhand or deadstock and sees this reuse as a kind of reincarnation—honoring natural cycles, not exploiting them. “They move on to the next life cycle on a garment,” she explains. Still, she has no plans to reproduce the collection—those pieces are one-of-one.
Now part of the design team at Mowalola, she’s developing her own label and preparing for her next collection—one that will delve into her upbringing in East Germany and the realities of racism, nationalism, and resilience.
What artists or works have influenced your direction?
A photographer, Cristina García Rodero, changed everything. She documented Haitian voodoo rituals—beautiful, raw images that really spoke to me. They made me feel something. That’s when I thought: if a photo can do that, maybe I can do it with fashion.
What challenges have you faced as a young designer?
The biggest one is compromising artistic vision for commerciality. Out of uni, it was tough to realize that no one was going to buy my super sculptural, conceptual pieces. That shift can feel like selling out—but it’s not. It’s survival. I’ve come to enjoy designing for wearability. I want people to wear my clothes.
How has working at Mowalola shaped you?
Mowa hired me originally for the Yeezy team. When that ended, she asked if I wanted to keep working with her. It’s been the most fun I’ve had in any job. We’re a tiny team, but we all come from similar backgrounds and share the same creative energy. It’s a great environment.
How do you define femininity?
Femininity is nurturing. It’s about community and care. Women often uphold culture and pass it down. To me, it’s centering the people you love—being a caretaker in your world.
hair EVANIE FRAUSTO USING BUMBLE AND BUMBLE AT STREETERS
makeup ROMMY NAJOR USING SALLY HANSEN AT FORWARD ARTISTS
nails NAOMI YASUDA USING KIKO COSMETICS AT FORWARD ARTISTS
set design COOPER VASQUEZ AT FRANK REPS
models VALENTINE ALVAREZ & NEELAM GILL AT IMG MODELS, EFRON DANZIG
hair assistant COURTNEY PEAK
styling assistants ALEXANDRA HARRIS, AKAI LITTLEJOHN & DOMINIC TURICZEK
photography assistant MAXWELL MENZIES
lighting assistant BILLY COLE
production assistant KIERNAN FRANCIS
location SPLASHLIGHT STUDIOS