Author Magazine 4/20/26 Author Magazine 4/20/26

Schiaparelli at the V&A: When Discomfort Becomes Legacy

Elsa Schiaparelli’s surrealist disruption enters the museum — and confronts its own afterlife in contemporary fashion

Schiaparelli did not design to beautify the body — she designed to destabilize it. The museum can preserve that gesture, but it cannot restore its original force.

The Victoria and Albert Museum is not simply presenting Elsa Schiaparelli. It is doing something more complicated than that: it is placing one of fashion’s most destabilizing minds inside the calm machinery of cultural recognition. That is no small act.

The exhibition, Schiaparelli: Fashion Becomes Art, is framed as a celebration of genius — and of course it is. Schiaparelli was a genius. But celebration is never neutral. It tends to imply resolution, and Schiaparelli was never resolved. Her work was too sharp, too strange, too psychologically charged to sit entirely comfortably inside a narrative of heritage.

What she made was not merely imaginative fashion, nor even simply couture in conversation with art. She approached dress as a form of interference. Working in close proximity to Surrealism — not as an aesthetic moodboard, but as an intellectual and cultural force — she understood the body as unstable terrain. Her collaborations with Salvador Dalí and Jean Cocteau were not ornamental alliances. They were extensions of a deeper inquiry into distortion, desire, displacement, and the instability of appearances.

Surrealism, for Schiaparelli, was never fantasy in the soft sense. It was rupture.

That is what the strongest garments still communicate. The skeleton dress does not merely depict anatomy; it inverts the logic of the body, pulling what should remain hidden outward into view. The lobster dress does not decorate the surface so much as disrupt it, placing something faintly erotic and faintly absurd exactly where composure would normally reside. The shoe hat is not whimsical in any harmless sense. It is an act of displacement, a refusal of function, a joke with consequences. These clothes did not simply adorn the body. They made the body strange.

That is the essential point, and also the one most at risk of being softened once Schiaparelli enters the museum. Institutions such as the Victoria and Albert Museum do what museums are designed to do: they preserve, organize, contextualize, and canonize. They take what was once unruly and place it inside historical continuity. They explain what once unsettled. They convert aggression into significance and difficulty into legacy. This does not erase Schiaparelli’s radicalism. But it does change its temperature.

Inside the museum, her work is no longer encountered as interruption. It is encountered as knowledge. The garments are lit, framed, and narrated. Their strangeness is made legible. Their provocation is translated into innovation. Their discomfort becomes part of a lineage. That, in itself, is fascinating, because the exhibition arrives at a moment when Schiaparelli has already been returned to the center of fashion under Daniel Roseberry. And here the story becomes more layered than a simple opposition between original radicality and contemporary appropriation.

Roseberry’s achievement should not be dismissed. On the contrary, what he has done with the house is, in many ways, extraordinary. He has understood Schiaparelli’s codes with real conviction: anatomy, exaggeration, surreal scale, bodily symbolism, the charged relation between ornament and object. He has taken a dormant house and returned it to cultural life, not timidly but with force. He has made Schiaparelli visible again. He has made it desirable. He has made it part of contemporary fashion’s central conversation. That matters. And it is not, in itself, a betrayal.

If Elsa’s work emerged in an era when fashion could still interrupt from within, Roseberry is working in a system governed by instantaneous visibility. The red carpet, the editorial image, the social feed, the global cycle of fashion imagery — all of this demands immediacy. A garment now has to register in a split second. It has to survive the speed of attention. In that context, the contemporary Schiaparelli does something very different from Elsa’s original work, but not necessarily something lesser. It translates her language into a new condition. The difference is not that the house has become superficial. It is that the surreal now operates under different terms. Elsa used surrealism to destabilize the body. Roseberry often uses it to monumentalize it. Elsa’s garments introduced tension and left it unresolved. The contemporary house sharpens that tension into image, into icon, into desire. The grotesque becomes luxurious. The strange becomes aspirational. The unsettling becomes highly legible.

This is precisely why the house is polarizing, and precisely why it is effective. From one perspective, something is inevitably lost: opacity, friction, the refusal to be easily understood. But from another, something significant is gained. Schiaparelli is no longer a historical reference or a niche intellectual fascination. It is living fashion again. It circulates. It provokes. It generates longing. Its objects are wanted. And want, in fashion, is never trivial. It is one of the central mechanisms through which cultural power is expressed.

What the V&A exhibition captures, perhaps more clearly than it intends to, is the tension between those two Schiaparellis: Schiaparelli as rupture and Schiaparelli as system; Schiaparelli as disturbance and Schiaparelli as desire. The distance between them is not a failure of the exhibition. It is its real subject.

The broader shift the show exposes is the movement from rarity to repetition. Schiaparelli’s original works were singular interruptions. They appeared against expectation and violated it. Today, her codes are endlessly reproduced, cited, circulated, and identified at a glance. Anatomy, surreal gesture, bodily symbolism, conceptual ornament: all have entered the visual vocabulary of contemporary luxury fashion. And with repetition comes recognition. Recognition, in turn, changes the emotional charge of an image. What once produced unease now often produces instant comprehension. What once demanded interpretation now invites identification. This is not unique to Schiaparelli; it is the condition of contemporary fashion itself, in which ambiguity is constantly pressured by the need for visibility. Still, the exhibition does not collapse under that pressure. Because the garments remain stronger than the narratives around them.

Even under glass, they retain friction. They do not sit entirely still. They resist pure admiration. There remains, in the best pieces, something unresolved, slightly insolent, faintly improper. They still suggest that elegance can be contaminated by absurdity, that glamour can coexist with aggression, that beauty can become psychologically unstable without losing its force. That is where Schiaparelli continues to matter.

Not only as a genius, though she was one. Not only as a pioneer, though she was that too. But as a designer who understood that clothing could do more than seduce or signify status. It could produce disorientation. It could disturb the body’s image of itself. It could make thought visible.

The real question the V&A raises is not whether Schiaparelli deserves celebration. She does.

It is whether fashion can still sustain that level of discomfort once it has been institutionalized, aestheticized, and absorbed into the economy of desire.

Can surrealism still unsettle once it becomes a luxury language?

Can the body still be destabilized by a garment designed to circulate instantly and beautifully?

Can fashion still think critically in a culture that rewards immediate legibility?

Elsa answered those questions one way.

The contemporary house answers them another.

The V&A, perhaps unintentionally, places both answers in the same room. That is what makes the exhibition worth taking seriously. Because what it finally offers is not a simple retrospective, nor a straightforward celebration of genius, but a confrontation between two conditions: the original disturbance and its afterlife. The museum can preserve Schiaparelli. It can elevate her. It can explain her. But it cannot fully restore the moment when these clothes first appeared as acts of elegant sabotage. That moment is gone.

What remains is the trace of it — and, if you look closely, the discomfort has not disappeared. It has merely changed form.

By Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 4/15/26 Author Magazine 4/15/26

Pierre Yovanovitch’s Exacting Interiors

Pierre Yovanovitch is often grouped into the broad, exhausted category of quiet luxury. The label is useful for branding and almost useless for criticism.

What defines his work is not quietness, nor luxury in any generic sense, but control.

Yovanovitch’s interiors are highly disciplined exercises in proportion, scale, and spatial pressure. They are designed to appear effortless, but their effect depends on rigorous calibration. A room is pared back, but never empty. A chair is oversized, but never clumsy. A wall is left almost bare, yet it carries as much visual weight as a decorative scheme in a lesser interior. His work is not about reduction as style. It is about composition as structure.

That distinction matters.

Before founding his studio, Yovanovitch worked in fashion at Pierre Cardin, and traces of that training remain visible in the precision of his interiors. He understands line, silhouette, and the relation between softness and construction. He places furniture the way a couturier places volume on a body: to correct, elongate, balance, or interrupt. The result is that his rooms do not read as decorated spaces so much as controlled environments.

His most iconic interiors make this clear. Whether in Paris, New York, London, or Provence, the rooms tend to be built around a few decisive formal elements: a sculptural armchair, a massive fireplace, a monolithic table, a carefully judged threshold between one volume and the next. Nothing is there to fill space. Each object has a structural role.

This is why his interiors hold.

They are not image-led rooms, despite how often they are photographed. They are rooms constructed through spatial logic. Their success depends on proportion before palette, on mass before mood.

The so-called Papa Bear chairs are an instructive example. They are frequently treated as charming signatures, almost mascots of the studio, but their real importance is architectural. Their exaggerated curvature softens strict interiors without sentimentalizing them. They introduce tactility and scale at once. They are comfortable, certainly, but more importantly they organize the room around themselves.

Yovanovitch is strongest when he resists prettiness.

At his best, he works within a lineage of twentieth-century French interior design without lapsing into citation. One can detect echoes of Jean-Michel Frank in the restraint, Jean Royère in the sculptural ease, and broader postwar modernist principles in the handling of volume and material. But these influences are absorbed rather than performed. His rooms do not depend on vintage nostalgia or collector signaling to establish authority.

That is one of their strengths.

The material palette is similarly controlled. Oak, plaster, stone, ceramic, bronze, velvet, bouclé: these materials are not deployed as luxury markers but as tonal instruments. Yovanovitch understands that texture is not ornamental. It determines how light behaves, how the eye travels, how the body registers a room. Matte plaster can quiet a space more effectively than decoration. A single polished surface can sharpen an otherwise soft composition.

There is also a notable severity beneath the warmth. This is where his work avoids the common failure of contemporary luxury interiors, which often confuse softness with ease. Yovanovitch’s rooms may feel calm, but they are not casual. They are exact. Their atmosphere is produced through discipline, not relaxation.

That rigor is what gives the work durability.

In an era of over-resolved interiors designed for immediate legibility, Yovanovitch remains committed to slower effects. His rooms are not built around instant recognition or excessive visual incident. They reveal themselves through use, movement, and duration. The eye adjusts. Proportions begin to register. The authority of the room emerges gradually.

This is a more serious proposition than lifestyle luxury.

Pierre Yovanovitch’s best interiors demonstrate that restraint is not an aesthetic mood but an architectural method. Their refinement lies not in what they display, but in how precisely they are composed. That is why they endure.

By Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 4/14/26 Author Magazine 4/14/26

Why Pedro Pascal Matters to Chanel Now

The house’s newest ambassador is less a celebrity announcement than a clue to how Matthieu Blazy may be recalibrating Chanel’s image, business and future.

At Chanel, faces are never just faces. They are signals — of mood, of market, of who the house believes it is speaking to next.

So Pedro Pascal’s appointment as a house ambassador should be read less as a celebrity endorsement and more as an insider clue to the direction of Chanel under Matthieu Blazy. The real interest lies not in the headline itself, but in what it reveals about where the house may be moving aesthetically and commercially.

Chanel has always understood the power of a singular face. In the modern era, the house has built entire chapters of its mythology through women who did more than wear the brand — they defined its emotional era. Think of Nicole Kidman in Baz Luhrmann’s No. 5: The Film, still one of luxury’s most culturally resonant campaigns, where Chanel sold not perfume but cinematic desire. Then came Keira Knightley for Coco Mademoiselle, the Parisian heroine in motion, followed by faces like Vanessa Paradis, Lily-Rose Depp, Margot Robbie and Penélope Cruz, each representing a different calibration of femininity, age and cultural relevance.

The point was never simply recognition. It was narrative. Each face told the market what Chanel wanted to feel like. Pedro Pascal is different because he extends that narrative into territory Chanel has historically touched only selectively: male image-building without a formal men’s fashion line.

That alone makes the appointment noteworthy.

Chanel has, of course, worked with men before. Men have fronted watches, fragrance and eyewear campaigns — Gaspard Ulliel for Bleu de Chanel remains perhaps the most iconic example, followed by Timothée Chalamet for the same fragrance in a more contemporary register. But those were product-specific roles. A house ambassador title carries a broader symbolic weight. It places Pascal not inside a single campaign, but within the architecture of the brand itself.

That is a more strategic move.

And it comes at an important moment for Blazy.

What Blazy achieved at Bottega Veneta was not simply product success. It was the re-scripting of desirability through precision, restraint and highly intelligent casting. During his time there, faces and bodies were never incidental. The casting language was part of the design language. Quiet power, tactility, real-world sensuality, and a cultivated seriousness became part of the brand’s image economy. There was always an intelligence to who embodied the clothes.

Pascal fits that logic.

He brings not only visibility but a very specific kind of cultural capital: intellectual warmth, emotional credibility and a masculinity that feels contemporary without being trend-dependent.

This matters because Chanel, unlike many houses, does not need relevance in the obvious sense. What it needs under a new creative era is recalibration.

Blazy inherited one of the most fortified visual identities in fashion. At Chanel, the challenge is not reinvention. It is adjusting the emotional temperature of the house without destabilizing the codes. Pascal does precisely that. He softens the image architecture without diluting authority. This is where the insider read becomes more interesting.

The appointment may not necessarily signal an imminent full menswear line — that would be a much larger strategic decision for a house whose business remains heavily driven by womenswear, handbags, fine jewelry, watches and beauty — but it does open the conversation around male luxury adjacency in a more expansive way.

A men’s capsule is not impossible. In fact, it would be commercially logical.

Luxury houses are increasingly using capsules and limited category drops to test appetite before building out full divisions. Chanel has the infrastructure, the atelier discipline and the cultural leverage to do it successfully if it chooses. A Pascal-led capsule — tailoring, knitwear, outerwear, accessories — would be an immediate global conversation. But financially, the more likely implication is not runway menswear. It is beauty, fragrance and accessories expansion aimed at a broader male luxury customer. That is where the money is. Fragrance remains one of Chanel’s most globally scalable businesses, and a broader male ambassador strategy strengthens that universe considerably. Pascal broadens the emotional territory of the house’s male-facing categories without requiring the cost structure of a full men’s collection.

That is intelligent luxury business.

The appointment also suggests something more subtle about Chanel’s customer strategy. Pascal’s audience is multigenerational and unusually cross-market. He speaks simultaneously to prestige cinema, mass culture, digital audiences and mature luxury consumers. Few figures today can move across those layers with such ease. For Chanel, that translates into reach, but more importantly into trust transfer. Consumers increasingly buy not only product but the emotional credibility of who represents it. Nicole Kidman once gave Chanel cinematic grandeur. Pedro Pascal gives it human warmth.

Under Blazy, that shift may be exactly the point. This is less about celebrity and more about emotional repositioning. A house that has historically been defined by immaculate control now seems interested in making that control feel more lived-in, more human, more emotionally resonant. That is not a minor branding decision. It is often how a new era announces itself before the clothes fully do. And in fashion, the face is usually the first clue.

By Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 4/13/26 Author Magazine 4/13/26

Inside Dolce & Gabbana’s Transfer of Power

**Domenico Dolce** and **Stefano Gabbana**.

As Stefano Cantino steps in and the house confronts a harsher luxury market, the question is no longer whether it can command attention, but whether it can convert that attention into endurance.

There are moments in fashion when a change in title is merely administrative, the sort of corporate rearrangement that briefly animates the trade press before dissolving into the daily churn of collections, campaigns and quarterly reports. And then there are moments that reveal something more structural: a shift in how power itself is held inside a house.

Dolce & Gabbana appears to be entering the latter.

Stefano Cantino’s appointment as co-chief executive alongside Alfonso Dolce, following Stefano Gabbana’s step back from the chairmanship, is not, at least on the surface, a creative break. The visual language of the house — black lace, Sicilian romanticism, devotional excess, familial mythology, sensuality sharpened by sentiment — is unlikely to disappear. Stefano Gabbana remains creatively involved. The runway, one imagines, will continue to speak in the house’s unmistakable grammar.

What is changing is something quieter and in many ways more consequential: the structure around the brand.

For decades, Dolce & Gabbana has existed as one of the last truly founder-sovereign houses in luxury, a company whose commercial and symbolic authority were deeply intertwined with the force of its creators. In stronger years, that model could read as purity. The brand remained singular, emotionally authored, and resistant to the flattening effects of corporate luxury.

But markets change faster than mythology.

Today, the house finds itself operating in a markedly different environment — one in which cultural visibility no longer guarantees retail momentum, and where even the most iconic brands are being asked to justify themselves not only in editorial terms, but in financial ones.

That is what makes this leadership shift important.

The real challenge facing Dolce & Gabbana is not relevance. Few houses remain so immediately legible. It is one of the rare brands that still carries a fully formed world, instantly recognizable across runway imagery, celebrity dressing and social media. The problem is not attention.

The problem is conversion.

Luxury, in this cycle, is experiencing a deeper separation between symbolic power and commercial performance. Consumers continue to engage with brands as cultural events, but purchasing behavior has become far more selective. Admiration travels quickly. Sales do not necessarily follow at the same velocity.

This is where Dolce & Gabbana becomes a particularly revealing case study.

The house remains culturally loud, but the broader market has cooled. Global discretionary spending has softened, and even within resilient luxury segments, customers are buying with more restraint and sharper intent. Aspiration remains intact. Impulse has weakened.

For a house built on emotional heat, that distinction matters enormously.

Cantino’s arrival should therefore be read less as a stylistic intervention than as an institutional one.

His background — spanning Prada, Louis Vuitton and Gucci — places him squarely in the disciplines that matter most in a market like this: communications, brand architecture, commercial structure and operational clarity. He is not being brought in to give Dolce & Gabbana a new face. He is being brought in to give it a more durable framework and durability is the operative word.

The company is navigating a more demanding financial climate, with debt refinancing and profitability pressures making it increasingly important to reassure lenders, partners and markets that the business can function with greater discipline.

That does not mean softening the brand.

If anything, the greater challenge is the opposite: how to professionalize without neutralizing.

Dolce & Gabbana’s value has never resided in moderation. It has always drawn power from excess — visual, emotional, symbolic. Its authority comes from certainty, from a world so fully authored that it resists dilution.

That is precisely what makes institutional restructuring so delicate.

The risk for founder-led houses is rarely irrelevance. It is overdependence on founder force as an operating system.

What works brilliantly as vision can become fragile as structure. This is the broader question now facing the company: can founder energy continue to function as a sustainable commercial model in a harsher luxury cycle?

Beauty is likely to be central to the answer.

As fashion becomes a less predictable volume business, adjacent categories such as beauty, fragrance, accessories and home increasingly carry the burden of scale. These are the categories through which aspiration becomes repeatable revenue.

Fashion creates the halo. Beauty monetizes it.

That logic becomes especially important in an economic downturn, when the customer may hesitate on high-ticket purchases but still wants access to the symbolic world of the house.

This is where the next phase of Dolce & Gabbana will likely be decided.

Not in whether the runway changes dramatically, but in whether the business around the runway becomes more coherent, more diversified and more financially legible. The coming year will therefore be less about aesthetic reinvention and more about proof. Proof that the house can remain emotionally powerful while becoming operationally disciplined.

Proof that founder mythology can coexist with institutional maturity. Proof that visibility can once again become velocity. That is the more serious story unfolding here. Not simply who sits in which chair, but what kind of company Dolce & Gabbana now needs to become.

For all the industry’s obsession with spectacle, this may be the more telling transition: a house long defined by the force of its creators arriving at the point where image must answer to structure.

In fashion, that is rarely just a leadership story.

It is the beginning of a different era.

By Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/3/25 Author Magazine 9/3/25

Khadija Al Bastaki: Building Dubai’s Design Future

Dubai is no longer a city defined only by its skyline and luxury shopping. It is fast emerging as one of the world’s most dynamic creative capitals. At the heart of this transformation is Khadija Al Bastaki, Senior Vice President of Dubai Design District (d3), part of TECOM Group PJSC. With a mandate to nurture design talent, attract global players, and build a sustainable creative ecosystem, Al Bastaki has been instrumental in positioning Dubai as both a cultural hub and a global business force.

Her vision is one of balance: heritage and innovation, luxury and independence, local roots and global reach. In this conversation with Author Magazine, Al Bastaki discusses the shifts required to move the Middle East from consumer to creator, the importance of cross-disciplinary collaboration, and why “Made in Dubai” must soon become a global marker of excellence.

Oona Chanel: The GCC is home to extraordinary consumer power. How can that spending influence be translated into nurturing regional talent rather than only importing global names?

Khadija Al Bastaki: For a long time, the narrative around the Middle East has been that we consume fashion at a high level but don’t produce it. That is changing, and consumer demand is part of the reason. Buyers now want more than imported names—they are looking for local creatives who blend international polish with regional identity.

At d3, we’re building the infrastructure to meet that demand. Platforms like Dubai Fashion Week and Dubai Design Week give regional designers equal visibility alongside global names. Beyond that, our in5 Design incubator and institutions like Dubai Institute of Design and Innovation (DIDI), FAD Dubai, and L’ÉCOLE School of Jewelry Arts are shaping the next generation. Government support—through creative visas, streamlined business setup, and expanded production capacity—is also critical. Guided by Dubai’s D33 Agenda and the Design Sector Strategy, we are creating an ecosystem where designers can imagine, produce, and sell right here in Dubai. That is the structural shift that will change the narrative.

Oona Chanel: In a market where luxury dominates, how do you ensure space for independent designers whose work may be culturally vital but commercially fragile?

Khadija: What makes d3 unique is its diversity. Under one address, you’ll find international maisons, regional names, independent concept stores, students, and start-ups. That coexistence creates visibility for independents where global buyers and media are already present.

We also provide tangible platforms: multi-brand spaces, curated pop-ups, and flagship events such as Dubai Design Week, DesignNext, and Sole DXB. These connect designers with audiences they might not otherwise reach. Collaboration is another key: when a young designer works alongside an established house, both voices gain visibility and strength. This ensures culturally vital work not only survives, but thrives.

Oona Chanel: Dubai is a crossroads for art, design, and fashion. How do you encourage these disciplines to collaborate rather than compete?

Khadija: Collaboration is one of our guiding principles. At d3, architects, designers, artists, and entrepreneurs share the same neighbourhood, sparking organic crossovers. Our events are designed to merge disciplines: Dubai Design Week encourages dialogue across art, architecture, and fashion, while collaborations like Cartier’s Al Manama exhibition bring together jewelry, culture, and architecture. Because Dubai is globally connected, these collaborations pull from many influences, creating something unique to the city and its people.

Oona Chanel: What is the single greatest misconception international fashion leaders still hold about Dubai’s creative landscape?

Khadija: The biggest misconception is underestimating our diversity. Dubai is home to over 200 nationalities, producing a consumer base that is far more dynamic and sophisticated than many realize. This mix also nurtures designers with hybrid perspectives.

Another misconception is that everything here is imported. In reality, more and more is produced locally. Through initiatives like “Make it in the Emirates”, Dubai is becoming a production hub as well as a design incubator. We are no longer only a destination for shopping—we are a place where fashion is imagined, made, and exported globally.

Oona: Every fashion capital has its identity: Paris is heritage, Milan is craft, London is risk. If Dubai is still being defined, what identity will set it apart?

Khadija: Dubai’s identity is boldness, diversity, and vision. We aren’t trying to replicate Paris or Milan. Our strength lies in being a crossroads: a place where tradition and technology, heritage and modernity can exist together.

Dubai Fashion Week embodies that. It’s not just about presenting collections—it’s about celebrating ideas, amplifying new voices, and embracing inclusivity. Our identity will be defined by daring to look forward while remaining true to our culture and community.

Oona: Looking forward, what do you want “Made in Dubai” to signify in global fashion conversations ten years from now?

Khadija: For me, “Made in Dubai” must mean creativity with substance. It should reflect our cultural richness—Emirati heritage alongside global influences—and stand for sustainability, innovation, and craftsmanship at the highest level.

In ten years, when someone sees “Made in Dubai” on a label, I want it to signal quality, authenticity, and a story worth telling. That is the legacy we are building.

“Dubai is not only consuming fashion—it is creating it, exporting it, and shaping the global narrative.”

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/3/25 Author Magazine 9/3/25

Jacob Abrian on Why Dubai Fashion Week Is Redefining the Global Map

Dubai is no longer content to be seen as merely a consumer of fashion. With Dubai Fashion Week — co-founded by the Arab Fashion Council (AFC) and Dubai Design District (d3) — the region is asserting itself as a producer of ideas, talent, and new industry standards. At the center of this shift is Jacob Abrian, CEO and Founder of the Arab Fashion Council, whose mission is to transform how the world views the Middle East’s creative landscape.

In this conversation with Author Magazine, Abrian speaks about infrastructure, sustainability, luxury, and the identity of Dubai as an emerging fashion capital.

Oona Chanel: The Middle East is often seen as a consumer market more than a creative exporter. What is the one structural shift that could finally change this perception?

Jacob Abrian: The Middle East has long been seen as a powerful consumer market, but what will truly change the narrative is investing in our own creative infrastructure. We have extraordinary talent here, and the shift comes when we stop exporting ideas elsewhere and instead build the ecosystem that allows designers to thrive at home — from mentorship and accessible manufacturing to global visibility. That’s why platforms like Dubai Fashion Week are so vital: they don’t just showcase collections, they cultivate an entire value chain. When that ecosystem is fully in place, the Middle East will no longer just consume fashion — it will set the agenda for it.

Oona: Fashion is often accused of being spectacle without sustainability. How can Dubai Fashion Week prove that spectacle and responsibility can coexist in a way that shifts industry standards?

Jacob: Dubai Fashion Week proves this by embedding sustainability into every aspect of the event. Recognising fashion’s environmental impact, the Arab Fashion Council launched the AFC Green Label to promote responsible practices. The initiative supports designers worldwide who use ethical materials and sustainable methods, providing them with a platform during Dubai Fashion Week. By highlighting creativity alongside conscious choices, the AFC Green Label shows the industry that spectacle and responsibility are not opposites — they can elevate each other.

Oona: The word “luxury” is constantly being redefined. From your vantage point, what does luxury mean today in the Middle East — and how will that definition shape the global market?

acob: Luxury today is no longer just about price or exclusivity — it’s about meaning, authenticity, and connection. In the Middle East, luxury resonates when it tells a story, reflects culture, and creates an emotional bond with the wearer. It’s about craftsmanship and quality, of course, but also about celebrating identity and heritage in a modern, relevant way. As our region increasingly influences global trends, this narrative-driven definition of luxury will shape the global market — where value comes as much from a piece’s story and impact as from its material worth.

Oona: Every fashion capital has its identity: Paris is heritage, Milan is craft, London is risk. If Dubai is still being defined, what core identity do you believe will set it apart?

Jacob: To me, Dubai is boldness, diversity, and a forward-looking vision. We sit at the intersection of tradition and modernity, where heritage meets innovation and technology. Dubai Fashion Week is about more than clothes — it’s about celebrating ideas, giving new voices a platform, and showing that fashion here can be daring, inclusive, and globally relevant. Our identity will be defined by pushing boundaries, embracing the future, and staying true to our culture and community.

Oona: Looking ahead, if Dubai Fashion Week is to shape not just a regional but a global future, what will its greatest contribution to the fashion world be?

Jacob: Unlike other fashion weeks, we offer 360° support — not just exposure on the runway. Its greatest contribution will be seen in three ways. First, by championing emerging designers alongside established names, giving them both visibility and commercial pathways through initiatives like our dedicated buyers programme. Second, by creating platforms like Threads Talks by Meta, where panel discussions connect thought leaders, creatives, and industry pioneers. And third, by embedding sustainability through the AFC Green Label, proving that spectacular runway shows can coexist with responsibility.

“Dubai is boldness, diversity, and forward vision — a fashion capital defined by both heritage and innovation.”

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

Theatre, Textiles, and Fearlessness: Tara Babylon on Fashion Without Borders

British-Iraqi designer Tara Babylon has carved out a rare space where performance art, hand-crafted textiles, and fashion meet in explosive color. Based in New York, and an alumna of Central Saint Martins and Parsons, she refuses to separate craft from theatre, or fun from sophistication. Gender-fluid, artisanal, and exuberantly bold, her work is a reminder that fashion is not just about clothes — it is about how we experience identity, joy, and presence.

Author: Your work sits at the intersection of art, craft, and fashion. When you begin a collection, do you think like a designer, a performance artist, or a storyteller first?

Tara Babylon: I begin each collection by tuning into my mood — what I’m feeling and how I want to express that creatively. From there, I gather research: fabrics, dancers, costumes, vintage clothing, music. Everything merges through experimentation on and off my own body until it becomes a single vision.

Author: Gender-fluidity is central to your label. What possibilities open up when clothing is freed from categories — and what challenges remain?

Tara Babylon: The possibilities lie in freedom — anyone can wear the pieces, which makes them playful and inclusive. The challenge is logistics: most stores don’t have a “unisex” floor. Buyers still think in men’s or women’s categories, which makes pitching gender-fluid collections harder.

Author: You champion artisanal techniques at a time when speed dominates. What does the human hand bring that machines never can?

Tara Babylon: The human hand infuses textiles with tangibility, character, and care. It creates subtle imperfections that add depth and texture. Machines can’t replicate that emotion. You literally feel the difference when something has been touched and shaped by a human hand.

Author: Your runway shows often feel like theatre. What role does performance play in your process?

Tara Babylon: For me, a fashion show is theatre — and theatre is a fashion show. I love to blur those lines, because that’s where things become truly interesting. Creating an entire world is central to my process: accessories, fabrics, shoes, music, models — it all has to merge. I’m wired as a showman; extravagance and the challenge of elevating every detail drive me to make each presentation unforgettable.

Author: You’ve studied at Central Saint Martins and Parsons. What lasting lessons did each give you?

Tara Babylon: CSM taught me resourcefulness: if you think you can’t make something because of budget, then you’re not being creative enough. Parsons taught me to embrace the unknown. Being alone in a new country stripped me back, but it forced me to trust the process and rebuild from scratch. That’s when my textiles and brand truly came to life.

Author: Sustainability can feel restrictive. How do you keep it playful and full of energy?

Tara Babylon: Some sustainable fabrics limit color, and as a color lover I won’t compromise on palette. Instead, I embed sustainability elsewhere: through linings, threads, fair labor, and conscious decision-making. It’s about balance — responsibility without losing joy.

Author: Your work blurs showpiece and ready-to-wear. How do you decide what becomes everyday clothing?

Tara Babylon: First comes the fantasy, then comes the process of simplifying it. That’s the hard part. Some ideas take years to refine from performance textile to ready-to-wear piece. I’m still revisiting techniques I began experimenting with five years ago.

Author: You describe your work as fun yet sophisticated. What does “fun” mean in the context of luxury?

Tara Babylon: Fun is about playfulness, the freedom to be lighthearted. I can’t stand overly serious fashion. Creativity should have joy at its center. Even when a garment carries deep meaning, the experience of it can still be playful.

Author: How does your multicultural background shape your perspective on beauty and identity?

Tara Babylon: Each cultural layer has shaped me. British structure, Iraqi heritage, New York energy — they all add dimension to my identity. Tara Babylon is about celebrating individuality and confidence. When someone wears a piece, I want them to feel fabulous, free, and entirely themselves in the most elevated way possible.

Author: Looking to the future, what do you hope the phrase “a Tara Babylon piece” will mean?

Tara Babylon: That it stands for empowerment, joy, and individuality. Each garment is meant to make the wearer feel like they are stepping into something unforgettable.

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

Rasha El Hallak: Fasila Collective and the Poetry of Fashion

Fashion often claims to be about storytelling, but rarely does it begin with words themselves. Fasila Collective, founded by Rasha El Hallak, does exactly that. Built on the idea that Arabic poetry — centuries old, charged with philosophy, pride, and tenderness — can be translated into garments, Fasila turns verse into clothing that is lived in, embodied, and remembered. Each collection begins not with images or mood boards, but with a line of poetry: Al-Mutanabbi’s defiant self-love, Wallada bint al-Mustakfi’s fierce independence. These voices are not ornament; they are architecture.

This week, Fasila is debuting its global campaign — featuring Daria Strokous photographed against the brutalist backdrop of Habitat 67 in Canada. The imagery sets poetry against concrete, history against modernity, underscoring the brand’s mission: to prove that Arabic verse is not relic, but resonance — timeless, universal, and alive in the now.

Fasila is not only a fashion label but a cultural statement. It repositions the Middle East from consumer to creator, offering a vision where heritage is not nostalgia but source code — a foundation for building a globally relevant, intellectually rigorous, and emotionally resonant form of luxury.

In this conversation with Author Magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, Oona Chanel, Rasha El Hallak reflects on how she translates verse into form, why silence is as powerful as sound, and why Fasila’s mission is ultimately about cultural bridges as much as clothes.

Oona: Fasila is described as “reviving Arabic poetry into clothes.” How do you translate something as ephemeral as a verse into a physical garment a woman can wear?

Rasha El Hallak: Translating a verse into a garment is an act of translating culture and history, not just text. It begins with the soul of the poem. The rhythm of a line might inspire the drape and flow of a fabric, while a metaphor might define a palette. For Al-Mutanabbi’s work, full of strength, we used structured shoulders and assertive lines. The embroidery is placed thoughtfully to interact with the body, so the verse isn’t just on the wearer, but with the wearer — turning the ephemeral into a tangible, wearable experience.

Oona: Many brands lean on heritage as decoration. Fasila treats heritage as narrative. How do you protect that depth in an industry that often prefers surface?

Rasha: We protect that depth by making the text the origin of the design process, not an afterthought. A collection begins with a deep reading of a poem, and that narrative informs every decision — the cut, the fabric, the technique. This makes us less vulnerable to fleeting trends because our foundation isn’t fashion’s cycle, it’s centuries of literature and emotion. For me, fashion is not surface level; it’s a powerful way of self-expression. Fasila allows me to share Arab heritage with authenticity and pride.

Oona: Your campaign with Daria Strokous at Habitat 67 in Canada placed poetry against brutalist architecture. What did that contrast reveal?

Rasha: That campaign was a statement of modern strength. Al-Mutanabbi’s verses celebrate unapologetic self-love, so the woman who wears them embodies a warrior. Our silhouettes are architectural, and placing them against Habitat 67’s concrete geometry created harmony between garment and building. More importantly, the shoot in Canada consciously took an ancient poem into a starkly modern context — proving its timeless relevance and global resonance.

Oona: Quiet luxury is often tied to European minimalism. How do you define it through Arabic poetry?

Rasha: Quiet luxury, for us, is intellectual and spiritual richness. The “quiet” lies not in absence, but in meaning. The luxury of a Fasila piece is not in a logo, but in the verse embroidered on a sleeve — words that carry weight, history, and philosophy. It’s an inward-facing luxury, understood by those who recognize the depth of the words. A quiet declaration of identity rooted in eloquence and heritage.

Oona: Fasila is both global and rooted. Do you see yourself as exporting Arabic culture outward, or inviting the world inward?

Rasha: Inviting inward. “Exporting” feels one-directional, like performance. What we want is dialogue. The themes in the poetry we choose — pride, love, independence — are universal. By placing these verses on modern silhouettes, we create an access point that allows people everywhere to connect with Arabic identity as something intellectual, artistic, and contemporary.

Oona: In classical Arabic poetry, the unsaid is often as powerful as the spoken. Do you design with absence as a tool?

Rasha: Absolutely. Fasila itself means a pause, a space for breath. That philosophy defines our approach: clean silhouettes, uncluttered forms, and strategic use of negative space. The garment becomes a frame of silence around the words, ensuring the poetry has space to resonate.

Oona: The Middle East is still often described as a consumer market for fashion. How does Fasila rewrite that narrative?

Rasha: Fasila is shifting the region from interpreter to author. We are not borrowing heritage as decoration; we are building from it. Our literary history is the source code of a new luxury aesthetic. By doing this, we assert that our culture is not only a market but a wellspring of original ideas, capable of producing fashion that is globally compelling.

Oona: You’ve placed women like Wallada bint al-Mustakfi at the center of your storytelling. How does this reshape Arab identity?

Rasha: It reclaims the complexity of Arab womanhood. Wallada was a poet and a figure of independence in the 11th century — a feminist before the word existed. By re-centering her, we prove that empowerment and intellectual freedom are not imported concepts but part of our own legacy. It complicates stereotypes and offers women today authentic role models from their own history.

Oona: If Fasila were itself a poem — one line to capture its soul — what would it be?

Rasha: They clothed themselves in poetry, and the world paused to read.

Oona: Looking ahead twenty years, do you want Fasila’s legacy to be the clothes or the cultural bridges?

Rasha: The cultural bridges. The clothes are the medium, but the mission is larger: sparking curiosity, pride, and dialogue around Arabic literature. If Fasila is remembered for shifting perspectives and building bridges, then we have succeeded.

“They clothed themselves in poetry, and the world paused to read.”

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

Dressing the Woman, Not the Ideal: Dima Ayad on Fashion, Truth, and Belonging

Few designers have challenged the fashion system from within quite like Dima Ayad. Her eponymous label was founded not to chase a trend, but to fill a void — to give women of all sizes a place in fashion without compromise. More than a decade later, Ayad has become one of the region’s most distinctive voices, a designer who insists that clothes should serve the woman, not the other way around. From her base in Dubai, she has built a brand that is both local and global, both celebratory and pragmatic, proving that inclusivity is not a niche but a philosophy of design.

Author: Your brand began as a response to exclusion. Looking at today’s fashion industry, where do you think inclusivity is still most absent — and how do you plan to address it?

Dima: I think the concept of inclusion has, in many ways, become another form of exclusion. It’s still treated as a niche or a trend, rather than a standard. One brand alone can’t shift the industry, but we are doing everything we can to keep the conversation alive and push it forward. For me, it’s not just about a movement — it’s about the reality that women need clothes they can actually wear. That necessity should never be optional.

“Inclusion should never be a movement. It should be the standard.”

Author: Many labels treat extended sizing as an afterthought. For you, it is the foundation. How does designing for a spectrum of bodies change the creative process itself?

Dima: For me, designing for all shapes and sizes isn’t a burden — it’s the enjoyment of the process. I begin with all kinds of women in mind. My philosophy is that if a piece works beautifully on the larger size, it will almost always work on the smaller one too. That’s how I build collections. Practically, I always create two sample sizes — one in XXL and one in S — and then we refine from there. It ensures the clothes are not only inclusive, but also flattering across the spectrum.

Author: You’ve built a brand rooted in Dubai but visible globally. What do you believe the Middle East can teach the fashion capitals about redefining beauty?

Dima: I’m proud that everything we do is made in Dubai. What the Middle East can really teach the global consumer is that change is not only necessary, it’s exciting. There is so much more than the standard orientation we’ve all grown used to from global brands. Here, we bring a different edge and a unique twist. Growing up in Dubai — a truly multicultural city — means you naturally tap into many markets at once. That perspective, that blend, is something only this region can offer.

Author: In partnering with Malone Souliers, you placed a regional vision alongside a global luxury house. What did that collaboration teach you about the power — and the limits — of cross-cultural design

JDima: Cross-cultural design is something truly special. It proves that products can be both local and global at the same time. That balance is what makes collaborations like this so rewarding. For me, creating it was pure joy — bringing two perspectives together and seeing them merge into something new.

Author: Some designers design for the runway; you design for the woman herself. When you imagine her stepping into your clothes, what is the first feeling you want her to have?

Dima: I design for the woman, always. I think of her in every moment she lives — whether she’s in the office, going to a party, on her first date, attending a wedding, or even walking down the aisle at her own. I design with those moments in mind, because those are her real runways. Her life is the runway, and I want my clothes to celebrate every step she takes on it.

“Her life is the runway. My clothes should celebrate every step she takes.”

Author: Fashion weeks often emphasize spectacle. How do you ensure that your collections remain grounded in real women’s lives while still commanding the stage?

Dima: I make sure the collection feels like a spectacle, but a grounded one. Whatever you see on that stage, you should be able to imagine yourself wearing. For me, that’s the essence of being a designer — creating a moment that excites, but also translates.

Author: As a businesswoman as well as a designer, what has been the hardest structural barrier you’ve faced in scaling an inclusive brand — and how did you overcome it?

Dima: The hardest barrier is maintaining what people call a work–life balance, while also figuring out how far you leap for growth. For me, inclusivity has never been the reason I feel stuck — it’s the reason I keep going. Women all over the world are part of that story, and they’re the reason I do this. The real challenge is scaling safely: how to grow without the sharp hikes, spikes, or declines that can destabilize a brand. That’s what I think about every day.

Author: Awards and recognition validate a career, but they don’t define it. What personal milestone meant the most to you — a moment that may never appear in press headlines?

Dima: For me, milestones aren’t defined by awards — they’re defined by the number of women wearing the clothes. One of my proudest moments was when we sold a thousand dresses, and another was when a single design sold over 500 pieces. Those are the kinds of milestones I celebrate. Expansion into new retailers and segments has also been incredibly meaningful. My form of validation has always been seeing more women around the world wearing Dima Ayad — that’s what defines success for me.

Author: You once filled a gap in the market. Today, you’ve helped to change it. What gap do you see now — in fashion, business, or culture — that you feel compelled to address next?

Dima: Today, the real gap is the pressure to follow trends. I feel strongly that women shouldn’t have wardrobes built only around what’s fashionable in the moment, but around timeless elements that last. Sustaining that kind of fashion is what I want to push forward. The other gap is beyond clothes — it’s about self-image. I want women to know that it’s okay to be yourself, without filters or FaceTune. You are enough as you are, and that should be celebrated just as much as what you wear.

“You are enough as you are — that is as important as what you wear.”

Author: Looking ahead twenty years, what would you like “Dima Ayad” to stand for — not just as a label, but as a philosophy in the global fashion conversation?

Dima: In twenty years, I want “Dima Ayad” to be remembered as a brand that started in Dubai and went on to make a global impact. I want it to stand for the idea that real change can come from here — from the Middle East — and that authenticity has the power to shift an entire industry. For me, the philosophy is simple: you can create from a place of truth, celebrate women as they are, and still redefine what fashion looks like on the world stage.

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

Building Presence: Jozeph Diarbakerli on Power, Heritage, and Fearless Design

For Jozeph and Cintia Diarbakerli, fashion was never background noise. As children in a Syrian Armenian family who emigrated to Canada, they studied magazines as if they were sacred objects, dissecting every silhouette, every aura. Today, that obsession has crystallized into a brand launched in 2024 that is unapologetic in form, sculptural in attitude, and global in its ambitions.

Theirs is a design language rooted in contrasts: heritage and modernity, intimacy and spectacle, vulnerability and strength. Together, the siblings have built a creative partnership that thrives on trust and tension — and a brand that refuses to whisper when it can command.

Author: Your Syrian Armenian heritage and Canadian upbringing sit in tension and harmony. How do you decide when to let tradition lead and when to let modernity cut through?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: Heritage is in our DNA, it’s impossible to ignore. But living in Canada taught us not to be afraid of risk. So when we design, we let both sides live together — one makes the work soulful, the other keeps it sharp.

Author: Your pieces are often described as bold, sculptural, unapologetic. What is the emotion you most want a woman to feel when she enters a room in your design?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: The emotion is intensity. Nothing soft, nothing casual. Everything amplified.

Author: Launching a brand in 2024 is not just about artistry but about infrastructure. What has been the hardest business decision so far — and how did it shape your direction?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: We had to accept that saying no is a business strategy. That decision has shaped our identity as much as any silhouette.

Author: You speak about presence as a philosophy. Do you believe clothes can actually change the way a woman commands space, or do they reveal something already there?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: Clothes don’t invent power, they frame it. The presence is already inside her — we just give it silhouette, sharpness, a stage.

Author: As siblings in business, your creative partnership is rare. What is the greatest strength — and the greatest challenge — of building a brand together?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: Our strength is trust. We don’t second-guess each other’s vision. The challenge is intensity — we’re siblings, so nothing is polite. But that honesty keeps the brand sharp.

Author: If you could rewrite the global narrative of Arab and Armenian fashion in one sentence, what would it say, and how does your work embody that?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: The sentence would be: we are not defined by where we come from, but by the power we project. Our work embodies that projection on every runway.

Author: The industry is full of young brands that burn bright and fade quickly. What must you build now to ensure Jozeph Diarbakerli is not a moment, but a house that endures?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: Wait and see.

Author: When you design, do you begin with architecture of form, or with the emotion you want the garment to carry?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: Our process is emotional before it’s structural. We create the aura first, then we build the body to hold it.

Author: Looking ten years ahead, what do you hope people will say when they hear the name Jozeph Diarbakerli?

Jozeph Diarbakerli: Still unapologetic. Fearless. Pushing boundaries.

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

The Power of Restraint: OTTÉ on Precision, Quiet Confidence, and Redefining Wardrobes

For more than 15 years, Tara, the founder of OTTÉ, built her career as a stylist — curating wardrobes, sourcing unique pieces, and translating personality into clothing. But styling revealed a truth: women often reached for the same timeless silhouettes season after season. What they wanted wasn’t endless novelty, but pieces that could move with them through different moments of their lives. OTTÉ was born from this realization — to create clothing not only for the present, but for the long arc of a woman’s story.

At its heart, OTTÉ is not about minimalism as a trend. It is about clarity, precision, and intention. Every seam, proportion, and finish is designed to endure, to live with the wearer, and to carry meaning beyond a single season.

Author: What made you move from curating wardrobes to creating pieces with OTTÉ?

OTTÉ: Styling taught me that women often wanted fewer, better pieces — clothes that didn’t just fit their lifestyle, but elevated it. I wanted to design garments that endure, travel with them, and still feel modern years later. That’s when OTTÉ was born.

Author: Minimalism is often marketed as a trend. How does OTTÉ approach intentional design differently?

OTTÉ: For us, intentional design means creating pieces that transcend cycles. Our silhouettes are designed to be as relevant five years from now as they are today. We think about how a blazer carries you from a meeting to dinner, or how a dress holds its shape after repeated wear. It’s not about less decoration — it’s about more meaning.

Author: Construction is often invisible to the eye. How do you approach it?

OTTÉ: A garment only lasts as long as its construction allows. We use French seams in silks, reinforced hems, and hand-finished details so the inside of the garment is as considered as the outside. These invisible choices are what turn a seasonal piece into a wardrobe staple.

Author: As a stylist, you saw women searching for “fixes.” How does OTTÉ address that differently?

OTTÉ: Women don’t actually need endless newness. They need fewer, better options. With OTTÉ, I design clothing that works seamlessly into a life already in motion — pieces that remove the question of what to wear, because they simply work again and again.

Author: You often use the phrase “quiet confidence.” What does that look like?

OTTÉ: It looks like ease — shoulders relaxed, movement fluid, a natural steadiness. It’s the opposite of overcompensation. You see it in a woman who never adjusts her clothes because they already serve her. Our silks, for example, are cut to move with the body so she never has to think about them.

Author: Why is the blazer essential in your collections?
OTTÉ: A precisely cut blazer is transformative. It frames the shoulders, straightens posture, and signals authority without a word. At OTTÉ, our blazers sharpen a silhouette but remain fluid enough to move with a woman’s life. They can elevate denim or ground a silk dress — one piece that speaks volumes without shouting.

Author: Who do you design for?

OTTÉ: I think of a friend who’s a creative director. Her wardrobe is pared back — silks, tailoring, tonal layers — but every choice is intentional. She doesn’t chase trends, yet she leads conversations. That duality is who we design for: women who let their intelligence and presence do the speaking, while their clothing quietly supports the message.

Author: What compromise will you never make?

OTTÉ: Precision. Fashion often rewards speed, but speed erodes integrity. It once took 14 samples to perfect a single item. That process wasn’t excessive, it was essential. Restraint only has power when it’s executed with clarity.

Author: What do you hope OTTÉ encourages women to think about when they dress?

OTTÉ: That dressing is a long-term relationship, not a revolving door of trends. A wardrobe should be an edited collection of pieces that serve you season after season. If OTTÉ can redefine dressing as an act of curation — choosing fewer, better, more intentional garments — then we’ve done more than design clothes. We’ve reshaped a mindset.

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

Forty Years Avant-Garde: Ksenija Vrbanić on the Architecture of Fashion

Few designers embody the word “avant-garde” with as much longevity as Ksenija Vrbanić, the founder of XD Xenia Design. Since 1986, she has steered her Croatian label into global relevance while refusing the trap of repetition. Her brand has become a study in contrasts: rooted in traditional craftsmanship yet embracing technological tools, unapologetically architectural but deeply human, global in vision yet proudly anchored in Croatia.

As XD approaches its fourth decade, Vrbanić reflects not with nostalgia but with an architect’s clarity: every garment is a structure, every collection a dialogue between past and future.

Author: You’ve led XD for nearly four decades. What does it take for a brand to stay avant-garde without repeating itself?

Ksenija Vrbanić: To stay avant-garde, one must constantly question and explore, pushing beyond comfort zones. It’s important never to fall into complacency. I avoid recycling my own ideas — instead, I look for new ways to challenge conventions.

Author: The “XD dimension” is described as personality-driven design. How do you translate someone’s presence into a cut or a line?

Ksenija Vrbanić: The XD dimension is architecture for the body. My codes are bold and closely linked to personality. Shapes are designed to empower, to endure, to move with strength. When clothes carry my personal signature, people sense it — and sometimes discover a reflection of themselves in it.

Author: You’ve balanced craftsmanship with technology. Where do you see technology pushing fashion next, and what risks do you refuse to take?

Ksenija Vrbanić: Technology will continue to accelerate processes and sustainability. But fashion must remain a human experience. I’ll never abandon craftsmanship, artistry, and touch. Without them, fashion loses its soul.

Author: Sustainability was in your DNA long before it became a trend. Do you believe fashion can ever be truly sustainable?

Ksenija Vrbanić: Fashion is a living organism, in constant change. But the cycle of producing and discarding every six months is destructive. True sustainability means reducing volumes, enhancing quality, designing with intention, and respecting the human relationships in making clothes.

Author: Croatia isn’t usually listed alongside Paris or Milan. How has being rooted there shaped your vision?

Ksenija Vrbanić: Being in Croatia gave me perspective. I built the XD Design Centre to reflect values: harmony with nature, a workspace where people feel free to create. We even grow our own vegetables on-site. At the same time, Zagreb is an hour from an international airport. The world is within reach. Croatia may not offer the same support as other countries, but a unique vision can be realized anywhere. That’s our advantage.

Author: When you revisit a past design, do you feel nostalgia or the urge to reinvent?

Ksenija Vrbanić: I see opportunities for improvement. Each piece captures its moment, but I don’t dwell on the past. We’re building the XD Museum, where archives will be placed beside new ideas — a dialogue across time.

Author: If XD were a building, what would it be?

Ksenija Vrbanić: The XD Design Centre itself. It was once a stable for brickyard horses. We preserved the old bricks and beams, then layered them with concrete, steel, glass. A horse-shaped lamp recalls the building’s history. The space follows Vastu principles, ensuring energy and clarity. For me, the building embodies the brand.

Author: You’ve mentored many Croatian designers. What advice do you give most often?

Ksenija Vrbanić: Stay optimistic. Don’t fear failure. I wasted time fearing it myself, but failure is often progress in disguise. The toughest moments shaped me most. Everything is possible — even when it seems impossible.

Author: Fashion weeks demand spectacle. How do you balance theatre with your own aesthetic?

Ksenija Vrbanić: Spectacle can be engaging without being loud. For me, it’s about crafting narrative — music, makeup, design — each detail must innovate without losing truth.

Author: Looking 40 years ahead, what do you hope people will remember more: the clothes or the philosophy?

Ksenija Vrbanić: The philosophy. Clothes are vehicles for values. What matters is the story: a commitment to innovation, responsibility, and the belief that fashion can be both human and visionary.

⸻

Closing Reflection

In a fashion world obsessed with speed and noise, XD stands as an enduring contradiction: fiercely avant-garde yet rooted in discipline, radical in form yet human in practice. If the next 40 years mirror the last, then the legacy of XD Xenia Design will not be garments alone, but a philosophy of resilience, precision, and fearless experimentation.

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

From Tenderness to Defiance: The Stories Arabic Letters Carry

With Bil Arabi, Nadine Kanso transformed Arabic letters into luminous declarations — jewels that carry memory, identity, and defiance. In this exclusive conversation with Author Magazine, Editor-in-Chief Oona Chanel explores the hidden corners of Kanso’s design process, the mystic weight of language, and the uncharted future of Arabic design.

Some artists design objects; Nadine Kanso designs belonging. With Bil Arabi, she turned Arabic letters into forms that speak — rings that spell tenderness, pendants that hold defiance, earrings that shimmer with memory. For nearly two decades, her work has been less about ornament and more about identity: a way of making the unseen visible and the unspoken unforgettable.

From Beirut’s charged streets to Dubai’s restless skyline, Kanso has always moved between memory and reinvention, building a language of design that is both fiercely regional and undeniably global. Her pieces are not accessories; they are declarations. They remind the wearer that Arabic is not only a script but a living pulse — one that continues to define, question, and evolve with every generation.

Design as Memory & Language

Oona: When you sculpt Arabic letters into gold, do you ever feel you are giving voice to something unsaid — a silence from your own life that finds form in metal?

Nadine: When I started Bil Arabi in 2006, it was to create something from our language for people to carry meaning and emotion with them. The letters are more than symbols; they are memory and voice all at once. Turning them into jewelry is my way of making the unsaid visible and preserving meaning in a form that lasts.

“The letters are more than symbols; they are memory and voice all at once.”

Oona: Which Arabic letter has never appeared in your work yet but quietly calls to you, waiting for the right moment?

Nadine: The letter ث, which is uncommon in names, has always called me. There is a delicate elegance in it that I look forward to exploring when the moment feels right.

Oona: How do you know when a design is finished? Do you stop because it is perfect, or because it still carries the mystery of what remains unsaid?

Nadine: Design is always evolving. As an artist and designer, I never feel something is completely finished. Each creation carries a sense of mystery, leaving space for the wearer to complete the story themselves.

Culture, Identity & the Region

Oona: In today’s Gulf and Levant, where culture is moving so fast, what do you feel is being preserved, and what is being lost, in the visual language of the region?

Nadine: What remains is our pride in language and our instinct for beauty. What risks being lost is the time we once gave to craft and storytelling. Bil Arabi was born to protect that essence and to show that calligraphy and design can be both timeless and modern.

““Bil Arabi was born to protect the essence of language, showing that calligraphy can be both timeless and modern.”

Oona: Do you believe that Arabic design is still seen by the world as “heritage,” or has it finally become “contemporary”?

Nadine: When I launched the brand, Arabic design was often seen as heritage, something to be admired in the past. Bil Arabi has always aimed to shift that perception, showing the world that our letters and identity belong fully to the present. I believe the world is beginning to see it as contemporary, though there is still more work to do.

Oona: If someone from outside the region wears Bil Arabi, what do you hope they carry with them beyond beauty?

Nadine: I hope they carry meaning. Every piece of Bil Arabi is not just jewelry, it is a message. Even if they don’t speak Arabic, they wear identity, culture, and artistry. They carry something that is alive with history yet modern in form.

Personal Reflections & Creative Rituals

Oona: What does your creative ritual look like on a day when inspiration feels absent? Do you wait, force, or surrender?

Nadine: Creativity cannot be forced. On those days, I surrender to the quiet. The beauty of Bil Arabi is that the alphabet always has more to give and can guide me back to inspiration.

Oona: What is the most personal piece you have ever created, not for the market but for yourself?

Nadine: My engagement ring. It reads “Enta wa Ana” — “you and I” — in gold and diamonds. It is a piece that will forever preserve love and memory.

“My engagement ring reads ‘Enta wa Ana.’ It will forever preserve love and memory.”

Oona: When you look back at your first collections, do you feel pride, distance, or a kind of tenderness toward that younger version of yourself?

Nadine: I feel pride. Bil Arabi was the first brand in the region to create Arabic letters as art pieces. Looking back, I admire that courage and vision.

The Hidden Mystique of Design

Oona: Is there a material, a stone, or a symbol you’ve long wanted to work with but haven’t dared to yet, and why?

Nadine: I have always been fascinated by raw wood combined with gold. Jewelry is about permanence, while wood carries fragility. That tension is intriguing, and one day I hope to explore it.

Oona: Do you believe that jewelry can carry protection, like an amulet, even if it’s born out of design rather than ritual?

Nadine: Yes, absolutely. Jewelry carries intention. At Bil Arabi, the letters themselves are powerful and hold energy. When someone wears them, they carry that protection. For example, our Ya Ein collection is designed to protect the wearer from negative energy.

“Jewelry carries intention. The letters themselves are powerful and hold energy.”

Oona: When someone buys a piece, do you feel they are buying an object, or are they stepping into a hidden story you wrote for them

Nadine: They are stepping into a story. Jewelry is not only about design, it is about expression, about voice — and every wearer completes that story.

Time, Change & Evolution

Oona: Has your idea of beauty changed with time?

Nadine: My idea of beauty has remained rooted in authenticity. What I find most beautiful now is honesty in design and materials, pieces that feel alive and purposeful.

Oona: How has motherhood shaped the way you design? Do you find yourself leaving letters and messages for your children in your work?

Nadine: Bil Arabi has always been about identity and voice, and my children are part of that language.

Oona: If you imagine Bil Arabi fifty years from now, what story should it still be telling about the Arab world?

Nadine: Fifty years from now, I want Bil Arabi to still tell the story of Arab identity as dynamic, unapologetic, and alive. The brand should continue to reinvent itself while holding true to its core: our words matter and deserve to be seen.

Home, Place & Belonging

Oona: Between Beirut and Dubai, where do you feel your creativity belongs — in the chaos of memory, or in the calm of reinvention?

Nadine: Both. Beirut is memory, scars, and chaos; it fuels my soul. Dubai is reinvention, growth, and limitless horizons; it pushes me forward. Bil Arabi is born of both.

“Beirut fuels my soul; Dubai pushes me forward. Bil Arabi is born of both.”

Oona: What detail in your home says more about you as a designer than any of your collections ever could?

Nadine: The art pieces around my home. Each one carries a story and a source of inspiration, reflecting how I see design and creativity.

Oona: When you design, do you feel more like you are building a home for language, or setting language free to wander the world?

Nadine: Both. Bil Arabi gives letters a home in gold and diamonds, but once worn, they are free. They wander with whoever carries them.

The Unexplored & the Future

Oona: Is there a part of yourself that you feel you have not yet allowed into your work — something hidden, waiting, that you might one day reveal?

Nadine: Jewelry evolves with life, and I am still evolving. Each collection unveils something new, exploring sides of creativity that were once hidden.

Oona: If Bil Arabi were not jewelry but another art form, what unexplored shape would it take?

Nadine: As a photographer, I best express myself through images. Bil Arabi would likely take the form of a body of photographic work, capturing the stories, energy, and messages that the jewelry carries in a new medium.

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Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 9/2/25 Author Magazine 9/2/25

The Woman Who Taught the Gulf How to Speak Luxury

Few names carry as much weight in the Middle Eastern fashion story as Ingie Chalhoub. She is not only the founder of Étoile Group, the visionary who brought European luxury to the Gulf long before Dubai became a global fashion capital, but also the creative force behind her own maison, Ingie Paris. For decades, she has built bridges — between East and West, business and creativity, entrepreneurship and design.

Yet her story is not one of privilege, but of persistence: convincing global CEOs to take a chance on the region, breaking closed doors, and proving that Arab women belong at the very heart of fashion’s power.

OONA: “You were one of the first to bring European luxury houses into the Gulf, long before Dubai became a global fashion hub. Looking back, what risks did you take that others wouldn’t — and how did they shape your vision as both a businesswoman and designer?

Ingie: When I began, the region was not yet considered a natural home for luxury. Many international maisons doubted the Gulf’s potential, so convincing them required persistence and vision. I took the risk of committing to long-term partnerships when others hesitated. It taught me to anticipate opportunities before they were obvious, a mindset that has guided me both as an entrepreneur and as a creative.

“I learned to see opportunities before they were obvious. That is the only way to create new markets.”

Oona: Many know you as the founder of Étoile Group, but fewer ask about your personal journey as a woman negotiating with global luxury CEOs decades ago. What was the hardest “closed door” you had to break open?

Ingie: The hardest part was convincing maisons that the Gulf was a market worth investing in. Decades ago, many CEOs saw the region as too small, too unfamiliar, or too risky. I had to build trust, demonstrate potential, and prove that we could deliver not just strong sales, but the right brand environment and experience. Once they saw the success, it opened the path for many others to follow.

Oona: With Ingie Paris, you moved from distributing luxury to creating it. What was the most surprising challenge in switching from being a bridge to being a voice?

Ingie: The biggest surprise was how exposed you feel as a creator. When you distribute, you protect another brand’s vision. But when you design, the vision is yours, and every collection feels deeply personal. That vulnerability was both terrifying and rewarding. It gave me respect for the courage it takes for designers to put their soul into their work.

“Designing is vulnerability. You are no longer a bridge — you are the voice itself.”

Oona: The Middle East is often viewed as a consumer market rather than a producer of fashion. From your perspective, what structural changes must happen for regional designers to become global exporters of creativity?

Ingie: We need stronger support systems: education, production facilities, and credible international platforms. Creativity exists here in abundance, but without infrastructure — supply chains, visibility, and investment — it cannot compete globally.

Oona: You have built your career on timeless, feminine elegance. In a market increasingly obsessed with streetwear and youth culture, how do you protect that DNA without becoming nostalgic?

Ingie: Elegance is not nostalgia, it’s evolution. Timeless femininity can live in dialogue with modernity. The key is staying true to identity while listening to cultural shifts. Elegance will always have a place, but it must speak the language of today.

Oona: Business infrastructure has grown, but talent pipelines still struggle. What would most accelerate the growth of Middle Eastern fashion as a serious global industry?

Ingie: Institutional support: scholarships, incubators, mentorships. If governments and the private sector invest in nurturing talent from education to global exposure, the region will not only consume fashion, it will shape it. At Istituto Marangoni in Dubai and soon Riyadh, as well as FAD in Dubai, I see incredible creativity — what they need is an ecosystem to grow into global voices

Oona: You’ve navigated two identities: the entrepreneur building distribution, and the creative building Ingie Paris. How do you balance the rational discipline of business with the vulnerability of design?

Ingie: They are complementary. Business gave me discipline and resilience. Creativity gave me freedom and empathy. The best decisions come when logic and emotion work together.

Oona: As one of the region’s most established female leaders in fashion, what do you think is still misunderstood about the ambitions of Arab women in luxury?

IIngie: There is still a tendency to underestimate Arab women — to see us as consumers rather than leaders and innovators. The reality is, Arab women are ambitious, globally minded, and deeply engaged in shaping industries. Our role is not on the sidelines; it is at the table.

“Arab women are not only the buyers of luxury. We are its leaders, creators, and innovators.”

Oona: You’ve seen Dubai evolve from niche retail market to fashion capital-in-progress. What is still missing in the ecosystem for it to stand alongside Paris or Milan?

Ingie: Dubai doesn’t need to replicate Paris or Milan. Its identity is its agility, diversity, and ability to bring cultures together. It has already proven it can set the stage for global conversations. Continued investment in creativity, innovation, and talent will cement it as a capital in its own right.

Oona: Looking beyond your brand, what legacy do you hope to leave for the next generation of Middle Eastern women — not just as designers, but as decision-makers in fashion’s global boardrooms?

Ingie: My hope is that they no longer have to prove they belong. If my journey helps women believe their place is at the center of decision-making — in fashion and beyond — that is the legacy I want most.

Oona: How do you see Arabic culture shaping the global aesthetic of luxury in the next decade?

Ingie: Through craftsmanship and storytelling. Our region has an ancient relationship with textiles, jewelry, and design. When presented globally, these traditions have the power to redefine luxury beyond Eurocentric narratives.

Oona: If you had to advise a 20-year-old Arab woman starting her journey in fashion today, what would you tell her?

Ingie: Be brave, be patient, and understand both creativity and business. One without the other cannot last

Ingie Chalhoub has never been content with occupying a seat at fashion’s table; she built her own. From negotiating with reluctant European maisons decades ago to launching Ingie Paris as a maison of her own, she has written a new chapter for Arab women in fashion: one of leadership, creativity, and fearlessness.

“If my journey shows anything, it is that Arab women belong at the center of decision-making — not only in fashion, but everywhere.”

Interview by Oona Chanel

Author Magazine 12/7/24 Author Magazine 12/7/24

Tommaso Motti: The Rebel Tailor Bridging the Past and Future of Fashion

In a small Milanese studio, where bolts of fabric and broken sewing needles tell the story of relentless experimentation, Tommaso is crafting more than garments—he’s weaving a manifesto. The young designer, who moved to Milan six years ago with little more than ambition and a sewing machine, is on a mission to redefine Italian fashion. His work is striking: oversized puffer jackets stitched from dozens of pieces, alien-like silhouettes that challenge the human form, and intricate details that quietly suggest deeper narratives.

For Tommaso, fashion is a vessel for both preservation and provocation. “Italy has such an incredible tradition of craftsmanship,” he says, reflecting on his heritage. “But I worry that tradition risks becoming a form of gatekeeping.” He describes an industry dominated by legacy brands, their names synonymous with luxury and excellence. Yet, for Tommaso, these icons of the past can feel like barriers to innovation. “I want to honor our artisans by incorporating their expertise into something entirely new,” he explains. “Tradition should be a springboard, not a tether.”

Resilience in the Threadwork

If there is one word that defines Tommaso, it’s resilience. His journey to becoming a designer is stitched with late nights, failed experiments, and a refusal to quit. “I moved here with big dreams,” he recalls, “but the reality was grueling.” One of his signature pieces—a massive puffer jacket constructed from 30 unique sections—tells the story of his determination. “I sewed it on a regular machine, breaking hundreds of needles in the process. That jacket is my resilience in physical form.”

This resilience also shapes his worldview. In a society driven by speed and disposability, Tommaso pushes back. “Fashion reflects the zeitgeist,” he says, “but I feel rebellious towards today’s culture. We’ve lost touch with what truly matters—love, nature, and connection. My work is about rediscovering those values.”

The Alien Among Us

Tommaso’s designs often feel otherworldly—fitting for a creator who draws inspiration from the cosmos. “My past collections are clearly influenced by aliens,” he admits, smiling. Oversized hoods resemble elongated skulls, while his exaggerated volumes feel as if they belong to an ancient civilization from a distant galaxy. These extraterrestrial aesthetics aren’t just about visuals; they carry a story.

“If my designs were a storybook, the central characters would be ancient beings who come to a collapsing planet to teach love and mutual respect,” Tommaso says. This narrative infuses his work, from the names of his pieces to hidden symbols sewn into their padding. For Tommaso, these touches are more than decorative—they’re a way to connect the wearer with the garment on a deeper level.

Timelessness in an Age of Impermanence

Tommaso is the first to admit that timelessness feels elusive in today’s fast-paced world. “Even great ideas last only a day now,” he muses. Yet, he is undeterred. By focusing on craftsmanship and innovation, he hopes to create garments that linger in memory. “Timelessness comes from shocking innovation—something truly groundbreaking,” he says. His current obsession is padding, a recurring element in his work, which he uses to explore texture and form in new ways.

Tommaso’s fascination with permanence extends beyond fashion. Asked about his dream collaboration, he doesn’t hesitate: “A marble sculptor,” he says. The idea is audacious: a hand-carved marble puffer jacket that merges the precision of sculpture with the fluidity of fabric. “It’s about connecting the past with the future,” he explains, “blending traditional techniques with modern design.”

Soul in the Stitching

In an industry dominated by mass production and fast fashion, Tommaso’s process is deeply personal. “I make every piece myself,” he says. “There’s a part of me in every garment.” This connection is palpable. His designs often feature subtle, symbolic details—stitching patterns believed to evoke positive energy. “It’s a small gesture,” he says, “but it connects the garment to the wearer in a meaningful way.”

Looking Forward

For Tommaso, the future of fashion isn’t just about what we wear—it’s about how we live. He envisions a world where garments tell stories, inspire reflection, and foster connections. “Beautiful clothing has lost its true value in this age of excess,” he laments. Yet, his work is a quiet rebellion against that excess, a reminder that creativity flourishes in restraint.

As our conversation winds down, Tommaso reflects on the lessons he’s learned from adversity. “Failure only happens when you give up,” he says. “Hard work is my greatest asset.” In his Milan studio, surrounded by fabric scraps and the echoes of broken needles, it’s clear that Tommaso Motti is just getting started.

Written by Oona Chanel

Designer Tommaso Motti

Fashion Editor Jessica Iorio

Photography by Serena Gallorini & Asia Michelazzo

Author Magazine 9/18/24 Author Magazine 9/18/24

Sons of Man

OONA: “Italy has a rich tradition of craftsmanship and artistry. How does your Italian heritage shape not only your design philosophy but also your worldview as a creator? How do you transform the weight of tradition into a springboard for innovation, rather than a tether?”

TOMMASO: Italy is clearly known for its tradition and I personally met many artisanal that have an incredible knowledge that I’m afraid it’s gonna be lost in the future. My vision is to preserve that expertise by incorporating it into my forward-thinking creations, forging a tradition that looks boldly to the future. Many of the Italian brands that we all know are symbols of excellence all over the world and they’re the ones who created the tradition. I hope the future allows more room for new brands and designers. Otherwise, tradition risks becoming a form of gatekeeping—if it hasn’t already.

OONA: “Fashion mirrors the zeitgeist. Do you see your work as a reflection of today’s cultural soul, a rebellion against it, or perhaps a dream of what could be? How do your creations speak to the collective consciousness?”

I feel pretty rebellious towards todays society to be honest, both ethically and economically. I’m fascinated by ancient traditions and civilization because back then it was more understood that what the humans really needed was just love and nature. In this capitalistic world, I often feel like a fish out of water, still searching for my own sense of balance.

Especially because what I do is just purely driven by passion and willingness to spread positive and interesting themes hidden in my creations. My hope is to spark curiosity in others, encouraging them to see the world from a different perspective.

3. If you were to design an outfit to embody a single emotion—joy, longing, resilience—what emotion would you choose, and how would you distill its essence into fabric, texture, and form?

I think that resilience might be the best one for me, I moved to Milan 6 years ago to chase this dream, went to university for 1 year and then spent the other 5 years working day and night trying to affine my craft and create clothes more and more complex to express myself.

Resilience to me looks like a huge puffer made by 30 different puffed pieces sewn with a normal sewing machines, breaking needles and thread 100 times, this pretty much embodies what I went through

4. As a designer, you exist between the fleeting pulse of trends and the enduring power of timelessness. How do you navigate this liminal space, and what does “timeless” mean to you in an age of impermanence?

Honestly I don’t get too stressed about this, when I create something it often comes in a blink of an eye, I usually say that I take ideas from the ether, the highest and purest part of the earth atmosphere.

I don’t want to look too much into everyone’s new collection, I’m trying to build the foundation now and my key points are padding and exaggerated volumes, often alien inspired.

Now that everything is so fast and even great ideas last for one day it’s difficult to define what timeless really means, one of my future goals is to try to create a new kind of garment that could be remembered. I believe that only shocking innovation,something both groundbreaking and universally useful,has the potential to achieve timelessness in this era.

5. Creativity often flourishes in the face of adversity. Can you share a moment where failure or an unexpected challenge unlocked a new layer of your artistry or deepened your perspective as a designer?

I’ve always tried to put myself in face of adversity, setting personal challenges that seemed stupid to most of my friends. Yet, these challenges helped me gain strength and a deeper awareness of my capabilities.

Over the past five hard years I’ve always tried to create as much as possible, driven by curiosity and pushed by the belief that failure only occurs when you give up on your dreams.

Working as much as I can has always been my only asset in this saturated market.

6. If your designs were a storybook, who would be the central character, and what universal truth or lesson would their journey reveal? How do you infuse this narrative into the textures, patterns, and silhouettes you create?

My past collections are clearly inspired by aliens, puffer jacket with massive elongated hoods evoke the shapes of alien skulls. If my designs were a storybook, the central characters would be an ancient god-like civilization arriving on a new planet near the collapse to teach them new technologies and help them flourish basing life on love and mutual respect and taking out all the wickedness.

I imagine these otherworldly beings dressed entirely in my silhouettes.

I infused this narrative in some of the pieces either with symbols or by naming products in certain ways

7. In an era dominated by fast fashion and disposability, how do you infuse your work with soul? How do you create garments that foster a profound connection between the wearer and the craft itself?

Since I personally craft every piece there’s some Tommaso Motti in each one of them.

I’m strongly against fast fashion and mass production sonceboth perfectly reflects todays capitalistic society. Beautiful clothing have almost lost its true value in this era of excess and I often find myself questioning where we’re headed.

Besides creating my pieces I often include some small symbolic details, stitched in the padding pattern, that are believed to evoke positive energies around the people who’ll wear it. It’s a subtle but meaningful way to connect with the wearer and add a layer of intention to each creation

8. If you could collaborate with one non-fashion artist—whether a filmmaker, musician, or painter—who would you choose, and what universal theme or emotional truth would your partnership explore? How would this interdisciplinary dialogue shape your work?

I would love to collaborate with a marble sculpture to create a unique marble puffer patiently crafted by hand, like my creations.

I m deeply fascinated by sculpture because it requires a lot of precision and dedication, qualities that resonate closely with what sewing represents for me.

The universal truth would be exploring the connection between past and future, blending traditional art techniques with modern a modern innovative design for the puffer jacket.

Interview by Oona Chanel

Designer Patrick P Yee

Photography by Sons of Man