One of the questions I’m often asked is, ‘Where do you even begin?’ Unfortunately, the answer is quite specific to who we are as a designer. In education, we always ask the student about their personal identity, their point of view, their vision and what they want from fashion, especially for the future. Some might be championing regenerative design, gender identity, politics, sub-cultures, socio-economics issues or even niche viewpoints. Whatever they are, these views shapes who the student is and, in a way, shapes their design process. Without any of these, a project can look generic, ill-thought-out or worse, appropriating.
Mainstream fashion has often focused so much on the product that clothes being sold don’t have a ‘soul’. Cheaply made and generic, everyone who wears them looks the same, and this contributes to the amount of garments being disposed of or donated because someone else wore it better. Fashion houses have the luxury of exploring this process more, but the distinction between runway and what is sold in the shops can be huge. Is profitability therefore hampering freedom of expression? Perhaps.
My approach to design has always been about my affinity with its technical aspects. However, my association with pattern cutting is also closely related to the sustainability of the garments. I strive to ensure the clothes I make are aspirational and will result in a long lifespan for each garment. When asked about my starting point, I reference the complexity of pattern cutting in creating aspirational designs that champion slow fashion, while concentrating on the materiality and craftsmanship of the garments. That may be a mouthful, but over years of endlessly making for the sake of it, I have come to the realisation that I want clothes I love so much that I will keep them until I die. I am sure there are many people out there who aspire towards similar ideals. After all, vintage couture dresses endure, and are highly sought after.
For one of my projects, my starting point was the curvature of the elbow. I was always taught to observe the body and to create patterns that are friendly to it. In this case, I explored manipulation of a raglan sleeve to curve around the elbow, hoping it would result in a more aesthetically pleasing two-piece raglan sleeve. Using scraps, I developed a toile and, luckily, the first draft was exactly what I wanted.
The next step was to decide how to use the sleeve, so I decided to make a long coat. I had always wanted an ankle-length coat, but my lack of height was an obstacle when it came to longer garments. However, I persist in the belief that, with a sprinkle of confidence, anything can look good. I went through my box of materials and found a soft navy wool, and also some Alcantara (both deadstock). With the materials decided, I did some quick sketches to visualise how the garment could look.
Both options were selected based on the accentuation of the curves of the sleeve, which were repeated on the garment. For the sake of an easy maintenance, I decided to use piping to highlight the curves. Making the piping was a lot of fun, using a special foot that allowed me to use bias binding and cord to make the exact piping I wanted. A while ago I bought a box full of funny feet, and this was the first time I’d been able to use any of them.
I also made an extra-large collar for those cold and windy days. There is an elegance to big collars, and my colleague commented that this collar is very Max Mara.
For the reverse of the coat, I joined the sleeve to the back to create a seamless piece. I love how the piping highlights how these pattern pieces came together.
I selected an ivory satin fabric for the lining. The mix of navy and ivory looks slick, perhaps because it references a military/navy combination. This is the materiality I mentioned earlier, the feel of the fabric, the texture, the colour, and the elevation evoking sensuality through association.
To keep the coat functional I put in pockets, but to prevent the curves from being disrupted, I kept them hidden. Take a close look and see if you can find them!
I have worn this coat on numerous occasions already, and it always gets a great reaction. The best was when an elderly gentleman in M&S was visibly shocked by how great it looked. He asked if I bought it from South Korea, and when I replied “I made it”, his jaw dropped even further and he asked if he could try it on! I was happy to oblige (the staff at M&S told me he used to be the store manager there). Wearing my long flowing coat, he ran over to his wife who was paying at the till and strutted up and down the aisle modelling the coat for his amused former colleagues. He told me he felt like a millions dollars and, I must agree, he looked it. The joy it gave him made me quite emotional. Hesitantly, he took it off, praising me again before I left the store. It was a surreal experience, but since then, acquaintances both male and female have had a chance to slip on this coat, and they have all mentioned how glamorous it made them feel.
This is what I meant earlier when I wrote that clothes have a ‘soul’. Wearing a garment can evoke such intense emotions, so it is important to convey those feelings while designing/making the garments to allow the wearer to feel exactly the same. Fashion design must have a purpose, a story, and an emotional resonance. Clothes are more than just products. They are a second skin. Treat them well and, in return, they can give you lasting pleasure.
Stephen Yong 