Hussein Chalayan: It’s a little bit of everything that you’ve said, actually. I’ll have an idea that may have been floating in my head for a while, but it may be that one season leads to another. You do eras of work that are connected. And then, of course, we develop ideas and within that framework there will be accidents we discover that we think are right for the house. It’s a framework that still allows experimentation. So much of it is actually you quietly searching alone for context and connections?
I work with teams as well. Initially, I’ll have an idea and make a sketch. Then I work with my pattern cutters, they’ll drape, and I’ll look and redraw from that. In terms of design, your work is regarded as having a lot of integrity, yet you’re still required to play by the rules of the calendar, the buyers, the editors, and the bank. How do you reconcile all that?
Well, the market demands and cycles are definitely difficult. On the other hand, sometimes I think restrictions allow you to think in alternative ways and in effect help you grow. You can’t constantly work like that because it breaks you down. It all has to do with how you play with restrictions and how you can turn them into positive things. You work with some really unconventional materials, like wood and acetate foam. Is there anything you fantasize about creating but are simply unable to?
Well, there are many things, but I think you’ll see them when they happen. I think of everything up until now as an experiment. I’m trying to turn my prototypes into reality. Is your studio a maze of outlandish and newfangled technology? I think that’s what some people might expect given your historical use of weird techniques.
I’m interested in technology when it comes to my work, but I decided at an early age that I don’t want to own many things. It’s not just the high-tech stuff. I don’t own many clothes or furniture. I like that. I find it gets too cluttered and I can’t think. That seems pretty common with a lot of designers, actually. People think that everything about your life is super-stylized if you work in art or design.
It goes the other way too. It’s like being a cook—when you cook your own food you don’t want to eat the food you usually prepare, because you’re too involved. But obviously that doesn’t discount your interest in technology. What is it in particular that pulls you toward incorporating technology, even if you don’t like it cluttering up your living room?
The reason I’m interested in technology is because it’s the only means through which you can do new things in the world. Everything has been done. Everything. It allows you to really go to places that haven’t been visited before. That’s why I pursue it in my work. Do you think other designers are using technology in the wrong way?
A lot of fashion people just repeat cycles. Honestly, I think everything ends up looking like the past—just regurgitated through styling. I’m interested in the past through fashion as well, but I think newness really comes through possibilities in technology. You’re also known for doing nontraditional runway presentations. At the early stage of designing, do you take into consideration how people experience your clothes, or are those things totally separate?
Ultimately, it’s about the things we make. I think the collection always comes first, and I spend most of my time with the clothes and stitching and fabrics and colors and things like that. The presentation is not the first thing I think of, but yeah, it’s important to me because I always like the idea that it’s a cultural experience for people while they look at the clothes. Your designs also suggest an obsession with the human body—how it moves, how it reacts, and so on. Do you have some sort of body muse?
I think I’m inspired by the body as a whole idea and not just one person’s body. I’m interested in the powerful woman. I was brought up by women, so I guess my aim is to empower women and make them feel confident with their clothes. I find women much more complex than men, and in a way much more interesting. I always want to see them look strong. Do you ever read the commentary on your collections?
I don’t. I have a few times and I just get sucked into it. What do you mean?
You get stuck on certain things people say or misinterpretations of stuff. I have too much to do to get sidetracked by that. I don’t want to write replies. I’d rather be busy trying to do my best with the work. It’s a funny thing—on the one hand, you should know what people are saying, but on the other it sort of prevents you from actually doing things because you spend all of your time on the computer. That’s interesting, because you definitely seem to be one of the busiest designers around. You’re the creative director at Puma and your own lines, but you also do all sorts of random art installations and projects.
Primarily I’m a designer, but I do work with a gallery in Istanbul and recently completed two projects in London with Lisson Gallery and Spring Projects. Also, we’ve had a traveling museum show, one-off gallery shows, and we also sell my films and installations to collectors. Which then supports my fashion business. And then, obviously, art collections. Are all these things independent of one another?
They seem very different but they’re all somehow interconnected—they’re all part of my world. I might do a collection and then a film with the collection in it, create a narrative around it. Or I might do a film that I base a collection on. I’m quite selective about what I do because I like to do things properly. I try to pace them out so that I don’t crash in terms of my schedule. It sounds like a lot, but it’s done in a sort of orderly way. You must feel like a machine.
Sometimes, but I think deadlines and lack of budget are what really make things difficult. If there were no limitations in the world, this would be the best job to be doing. But obviously those limitations exist, so it does create stress at times. How do you deal with it?
I choose to do them so I grow from them. My art projects inspire me further. In a way, they create fuel for my collections. I think there’s an interesting kind of duality in my work, where things feed off of each other. You grew up in both Cyprus and London. Is there a connection with your upbringing? The idea of having dual lives, so to speak.
Well, I was born in Cyprus and moved to London for the first five years of my life, and then I went back to Cyprus for primary school. I think it’s that back-and-forth element of my life, where I have to readapt constantly to alien environments, that’s made me very open but also quite rootless. I have that Turkish side of my brain, and I feel very lucky because it’s such a rich culture. There’s wisdom in the culture that I think is lacking in a lot of Western cultures. So I feel quite blessed that I have that side. Which do you consider home?
I’m ultimately a Londoner because I’ve spent most of my life here. That doesn’t mean you’re English, it just means you’re a Londoner. It’s a bit like saying you’re a New Yorker, which doesn’t mean you’re American. What attracts you to London?
London is a city where there’s a specialty for everything. You can be a specialist in any field you can think of. And in a way I’ve taken more interest in my native culture by living here because I can look at it from a distance. I’m an islander but I’ve come to another island. I guess I’m a real mishmash. You’re originally from Turkey, which puts you in that very small pool of internationally recognized Middle Eastern designers. Is there any pressure that comes along with that?
No, because I’m not from Turkey. I’m from Turkish Cyprus. But even then Turkey is not really the Middle East—it’s half European, half Asian. It is its own category. I think we have more in common with the south of Italy and the south of Greece than we have with the Middle East. We’re Muslim, but it’s so secular that it’s hardly there. It’s just a tradition. Our women aren’t covered or anything like that, you know? Does religion come into play at all?
No one really goes to the mosque. But it’s there, which is great. That’s how it should be. Which people do you most associate with, then?
I have more affiliation with people I went to Saint Martins with. I feel I’m more part of a broader culture that’s based in London. I’ve spent most of my life here. I’m friendly with the Turkish designers in Istanbul, but I’m not a part of that community because I’m not from there. I think I have an empathy and some kind of connection culturally, but not as a designer. You dedicated your Fall 2010 show to Alexander McQueen, whom you consider a peer. You both have very different aesthetics and approaches. Can you talk a little bit about the relationship you had with him?
Well, McQueen and I are from exactly the same generation. We started out at a very similar time, and we were doing shows in London in the mid-90s until we both went to Paris. I didn’t know him well, but enough to always chat with him when I saw him. I think he became part of the Gucci Group in the early 2000s and his business took a different direction than mine. He had to grow a lot faster because of the investment and the scenario he was in. Did you guys admire each other’s work?
Yes. I always heard him say good things about my work. He never said it to my face [laughs], but he was always very deferential to me. Generationally speaking, we were both extremely different but we were both doing, in my view, very interesting collections and shows that were new at the time. I feel we contributed a lot to the London fashion landscape. How has his death affected you?
I’m devastated about what happened to him. It’s just so depressing. I integrated a speech for him into my soundtrack when that happened, last autumn/winter. It’s extremely sad and I’ve been very teary-eyed at times. It’s a massive, massive loss. Maybe there should have been more people around him when he got so down after his mother’s death. I still can’t believe it, to be honest. I have to pass by his studio every day to get to mine, and every time I pass by it feels unreal. It’s just tragic. On the, uh, other end of the spectrum there’s Lady Gaga. You’ve obviously met her.
[laughs] Yes, of course. A couple of times. We’ve worked with her in some way. She’s a love, really. She’s a sweet, sweet girl with a very open spirit. She’s so openhearted and warm, there’s no way you can’t like her. Where do you think it comes from?
I think it has to do with coming from an Italian background. I think there’s something to be said about the family structure in people. I know Madonna’s also Italian, or part Italian, but Gaga seems a lot warmer than her. Your last couple of collections are inspired by some pretty bizarre things. For example, Japanese Bunraku puppet theater. What are you doing in your free time? Are you just spending hours pushing the Random button on Wikipedia?
No, no… My work life and my personal life are so integrated. My interests are all intertwined. I go to the cinema, I meet friends, I go to dinner, I go to concerts—you know, very normal things. I do like a cultural life, though. I like always seeing things. I love spending time with my family when they’re here or when we meet in Paris. I guess my interests and my working life are all bundled up. Sometimes I don’t really know what to do when I have nothing to do. I get bored quite easily.