This collection, much like the last, began with fabric. I had known the Irish mill Magee for years but came across their textiles again last year. The colors and nods to traditional patterns were rendered in tumbled linens that felt anew; as soon as I saw them, I knew they would define this season. The hand, the texture, the palette, all aligned with what I had been hoping to convey with my work.

I had never really thought about working this way before: buying deeply into one mill and allowing its fabrics to anchor the season. But these textiles exist almost outside of time. When you touch them, you immediately recognize their value. They feel substantial and beautiful. That feeling, when you pick something up and instantly understand that it’s different, is something I hope the clothes themselves communicate without explanation. 

The mood of the collection is also shaped by the idea of an artist’s uniform. Painters, writers, dancers, actors—people who need clothes that allow them to move, to work, to live. Georgia O’Keeffe, Joan Mitchell, Pina Bausch, Constantin Brancusi, Katharine Hepburn. Later, Isabella Rossellini and Jane Birkin in the 1980s, or the ease of Perry Ellis from that decade. Although I don’t design from a moodboard, these images live somewhere in my psyche and inevitably influence my point of view.

What I love is the freedom these artist’s uniforms offer. Many women wore garments that allowed movement when fashion was restrictive: army jackets, workwear, men’s shirts. Dressing for life and work was itself a statement at that time, radical in its simplicity.

I continue to be inspired by early twentieth-century vintage garments I’ve collected over the years, and many pieces from my archive laid the foundations for the silhouettes and design details we explore.

One such highlight is the Fetherston Jacket. Found at a vintage show, hand dated to 1918 on the inside pocket, it was already almost perfect on our fit model. We softened the sleeve and removed a bit of padding, but otherwise the garment was exactly what it needed to be, possessing an effortlessly rakish energy that continues to delight. 

This collection also plays with the tension of traditions. Patterns like glen checks or pinstripes are usually associated with wool suiting, but here they are in linen with a finish that gives them softness and texture. This season also introduces hand-knitted hemp garments, made with artisans in Bolivia. At first glance they look classic, almost familiar, but when you see how they drape, they feel entirely different.

Construction is another obsession. Almost every interior seam is self-finished. Many of the garments, like the Emery Coat, could practically be worn inside out.

For me, clothing is an intimate relationship. It isn’t just about what you project outwardly. There’s something personal about wearing a garment that is beautifully constructed on the inside, something only the wearer experiences. That intimacy matters.

The clothes you’ll find here are rooted in history, but interpreted in a way that feels natural for today. They are casual garments. Easy to wear and comfortable, yet luxurious and exceptionally well made.

They are clothes for all kinds of artists to call their own. 

Photography by Kristina Dittmar

Words by Elsa de Berker