THE INDEPENDENTS SQUAD

Text by Philippe Pourhashemi

In ‘The History of Sexuality’, which he published in 1976, French philosopher and political activist Michel Foucault famously stated that: “Where there is power, there is resistance.” 

One could argue that the corporate fashion world is experiencing new heights of vertiginous power through its outstanding profits, increased visibility, and growing grasp of our entire culture. For instance, look at how a luxury group like LVMH involved itself in the recent Paris Olympics, and you will understand how the whole fashion industry can no longer be separated from hugely significant—and highly symbolic—cultural milestones. The spectacle of fashion has never been as sought-after as it is today, and it looks like everyone wants a piece of that juicy glittery cake. Behind its glossy veneer of beauty, glamour and growth, fashion is, in fact, a field of contention, competition and rage. 

Today, independent brands struggle to stay alive, even though their existence is crucial within the fashion landscape. Not only do they bring innovation, character and emotion to fashion, but they also foster new ways of being and doing.

This feature, divided into two parts—five designers in this issue and five in the next—celebrates their courage and determination to overcome the obstacles they face every day.

I have written about independent brands for almost 20 years now, and this new generation of singular talents truly captivates me. Not only are they pragmatic, humble and resourceful, but they also question some of the key principles this industry has taken for granted for far too long. They are sceptical about runway shows, star designers and oversharing what they consider private on social media. They denounce sexism, social discrimination and racism. They consider craft, authenticity and sustainability as key values within their work. And they are honest about having terrible days, too, because why should designers pretend to be something they are not?

Away from the media circus and its annoyingly farcical clowns, a new group of fashion talents is emerging. I call them the ‘Independents Squad’, because they all cherish their status as independent designers, away from the control of the corporate world and its ongoing standardisation of fashion. Their willingness to fight for the ideas they believe in is ultimately what bonds them as individuals. 

Putting these interviews together over the past few months, I realised why those designers were so important to me. Their joy, opinions, challenges, and successes made me fall in love with fashion again and hope for a brighter future. 

In 2014, a collective named ‘Vetements’ disrupted the Paris fashion scene, making everyone believe that an independent brand could be successful quickly, winning the press with provocative shows and increasing its stockists at an impressive pace. Although the brand brought hope to other independent designers, this was short-lived. It soon became clear that the entire strategy engineered by the Gvasalia brothers was different. This became clear when Demna Gvasalia was announced as the new Creative Director of Balenciaga in October 2015. The renegades had suddenly become establishment figures, and I—like many others—felt that the viral buzz Vetements had generated was not a victory of independence but rather a cynical way to seduce corporations.

A decade later, the context is slightly different. Luxury groups have lost their lustre, and their creative directors keep changing, underlining management’s nervousness and inability to predict the future. Choosing to be independent—and remaining so—is indeed an illustration of the neo-idealism that is increasingly shaping our world. Instead of being disengaged, apathetic and complacent, the designers I spoke to are committed and proactive regarding sustainability and social change. They are passionate about their technique, too, and resolutely attached to their core values, which they have no intention of betraying. Those independent names are finding new and resourceful ways to do fashion, leading their companies smartly while avoiding grand gestures. They are agile creatives, which makes them nimble and truly adaptable to change.

In the end, one can be both pragmatic and idealistic at the same time.

In this exploration into the lives and voices of talented independent designers reshaping our fashion landscape, the need for valuable alternatives and innovative strategies to connect with one’s audience has become paramount.

Instability and flippancy have been growing within fashion, creating countless casualties no one seems particularly concerned with. The constant chatter—and speculation—about who gets hired and fired has two painful side effects. First, it distracts from the clothes designers spend months creating, turning fashion into a never-ending reality TV show, its highs and lows documented daily. While it’s true that some collections on the runways are lazy, unchallenging, and predictable, the industry often prefers indulging in clickbait sensationalism over supporting promising new talent. The second consequence is even more insidious: this ruthless spectacle, addictive and entertaining for some, gradually desensitises us to the humanistic and nurturing aspects of fashion—a dimension that clearly mattered before the rise of social media.

Remember how John Galliano managed to put on a legendary show in 1994 with no funds, free supermodels, and the undying support of some of the industry’s most prominent figures? That kind of passion—and selfless devotion—that once helped working-class geniuses succeed in fashion has disappeared.

When Y/Project announced last January on Instagram that it was closing after 14 years in business, the conversation immediately shifted to Glenn Martens and which house might hire him next. No one seemed to pause and ask why such an influential and talked-about brand would suddenly shut down. And no one, except me, raised the question of the human cost. The comment I wrote under the brand’s final Instagram post gathered 1,356 likes. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one with questions and doubts. Would the studio staff find work elsewhere? What about the suppliers and factories producing their goods? Why was there no serious financial offer or industry support to keep Y/Project going? In the end, broken-heart emojis were the most common response. Writing actual words felt like too much of an imposition.

For the past six months, fashion has been in a strange state of coma and paralysing lethargy, desperately awaiting creative reanimation. Major luxury groups and iconic houses are seeing profits drop—largely due to a lack of strong creative leadership—while designers are shuffled around like defenceless little puppets, jumping from one brand to the next. Fashion itself is struggling to fascinate or enchant. The more ubiquitous and hyper-marketed designer merch becomes, the less it appeals to discerning clients looking for unusual and distinctive narratives. The more mass and all-encompassing fashion strives to be, the more mediocre it gets.

The four designers I interviewed for this feature are unequivocally looking forward. They are paving singular paths towards personal growth and long-term meaning. Their belief in a better future is both refreshing and essential. Initially, I had planned to interview ten designers, but nine felt more symbolic and defining. In numerology, nine stands for altruism, peacemaking, and creative joy. It signifies the end of a cycle and the start of a new one. This is the much-anticipated unfolding of a novel fashion era, where honesty and care finally pay off.

With values rooted in sincerity, social awareness, creative instinct, and adaptability, these four designers are reawakening something long absent from fashion: the possibility of a more intelligent industry. One that is respectful. One that is compassionate, with humanism and its core principles placed firmly at the heart of its purpose.

KEVIN GERMANIER

SWISS, PARIS-BASED

How do you see the evolution of your brand, and what recent changes did you put into place?

On the one hand, our ready-to-wear and handbags are sold online now, which allows us to have higher margins. On the other hand, we continue developing creative partnerships with selected brands. Recently, GERMANIER collaborated with the likes of Caran d’Ache, Baccarat, Hello Kitty and Christian Louboutin, to name a few. Our third segment is Haute Couture, where our atelier customises and upcycles vintage designer pieces, which we source ourselves or get from clients who wish to upgrade and change some of their favourite garments in their closets. You can bring your 3-year-old beloved Chanel jacket, which our atelier will embellish and update according to your wishes. And it can also be something they liked in our show, whether it be a specific technique or motif, which we apply to their clothes.

What is it that you enjoy about that process?

Being able to work closely with a single client is something that I really love. I’m clearly not the type of designer who will be happy sending down a series of logo T-shirts down the runway. That goes against my nature and values as an individual.

Do you learn things from your clients?

All the time. You also have a better insight into their lifestyle and taste, which is precious information. The thing is, if one garment you designed is actually great, then it’s very likely that it will work in every single colour. This idea of narrow designer diktats feels incredibly dated.

In your opinion, does that personal edge play an important part within luxury?

It does, and people forget that fashion should primarily be about pleasure and satisfaction. More and more clients are looking for personalised and highly intimate experiences. As our brand has no investors, I must also be fulfilled with what I do. I didn’t choose a career in fashion to end up bored as a designer.

What does independence require to run a business well?

Having your own brand isn’t just about designing great clothes. You must be a strong CEO and a savvy communicator with the press. Having to make tough decisions can also be part of the job.

How would you then define the true essence of luxury?

I’d define luxury with two words: consideration and time. Pleasing a discerning client does take time, and you sometimes have to sketch something over and over again until it feels right. Consideration goes with this idea of care and personal involvement. How cared-for did you feel when you last bought something at Avenue Montaigne? Besides your champagne glass, was it such a personal experience?

It all became relatively standardised, right?

To be blunt, I don’t really care what other brands do, and what works well for GERMANIER might be disastrous for others. I think your DNA evolves over time, depending on what kind of audience you get to reach. The idea of having a specific type of client in 2025 also seems outdated. You can be non-binary, a man or a woman, or come from Africa, Australia, or America. It’s totally unpredictable in the end, and we cannot foresee what will happen. That’s why I think market research often fails, because the guidelines in fashion are no longer there.

So, what is the most important thing independent designers should listen to?

Their instincts. The rest is uncertain.

The fashion landscape is still very much about extremes at the moment, between ubiquitous fast fashion and so-called extortionate ‘luxury’. How do you see the future of independent brands?

This will sound a little nasty, but I think there are too many of us around. Niche designers should be more radical through their approach. I personally shop vintage and do not need a white T-shirt or black jacket. At the same time, I do understand why consumers purchase certain brands. Our market is completely saturated, and the great thing about Haute Couture is that you don’t have to please everyone or perform equally in every market. It brings you back to a certain reality, too, which I find very important.

With the ongoing game of musical chairs affecting luxury groups, don’t you think the saturation is coupled with increasing fashion fatigue?

I know what you mean. What’s interesting with GERMANIER is that we don’t follow trends. There’s a certain timelessness we’re actually aiming for, perhaps subconsciously. The problem with the musical chair situation is that too many upcoming designers failed in their respective houses at pretty much the same time. That makes CEOs nervous and therefore more conservative in how they choose designers.

At the same time, shouldn’t risk-taking be the essence of fashion, as well as fostering the new? What you do with your brand is adventurous, and there are no guarantees it will work.

You know what the best thing is about this entire situation? When they really need to take risks again, they can hire us (mutual laughter).

Why is the exercise of the fashion show important for you?

If you start doing shows, you must stick to that format. When you stop doing them, insiders will say you have financial issues and can no longer keep up. So there isn’t much of a choice in the end, and whatever the circumstances are, you must make that fashion show happen. It is a huge budget, but you need to find sponsors. I would never do a show using company money. Before being able to pay for shows, you should pay your team first. And I don’t think getting into debt for a show is a clever move. Another thing that people seem to forget is that a great fashion show is not just a bunch of pissed-looking models walking robotically for 10 minutes. It should be an emotional performance—one that leaves a lasting impression. Shows are emotional performances, and they should stay that way.

Would you approach more high-end brands and offer them to take care of their remaining old stock?

You know what? That’s a really good idea. We’ve already done this with LVMH, but there are other brands that might be interested. The main goal with our Haute Couture is to encourage clients to keep their pieces while getting them transformed, instead of discarding them. That is the message we would like to convey as a high-end sustainable brand.

Did that proposal come from some of your clients, or is this a service you chose to offer them?

Trust me, there’s no need to make more pearl-encrusted tulle ball gowns. My approach towards Haute Couture has always been this one: to take what exists and give it a new twist. Look at what’s happening on the red carpet, for instance. More and more actresses are wearing vintage fashion, including haute couture.

Does educating people and getting that message across matter to you in that sense?

I don’t intellectualise what I do. I understand that fashion can be political in a certain way, but that’s not an aspect I’m interested in. I truly believe that a brilliant piece of design will speak for itself, and when it comes to great design, no blah blah is necessary. Whether you craft a Haute Couture desk or a new IKEA lamp, your job title is still ‘designer’. The idea that creative directors are otherworldly figures sent from heaven is ridiculous. The best compliment for me is when people cannot figure out that a piece is upcycled and have no clue which elements we took to make it happen.

That’s the magic of fashion.

And our greatest reward as designers. Let’s not forget that we are not the ones actually making those things. The artisans—the seamstresses, the patternmakers, the embroiderers—turn ideas into reality; without them, none of this would be possible. There are expert hands at work, whose talent and technical prowess matter much more than a designer’s ego.

***

ANTHONY ALVAREZ GRAFF

FRENCH/AMERICAN, PARIS-BASED

Your last show felt more conceptual than the previous one. Was that intentional?

Yes, and I would really like to continue in that direction next season.

You’re based in Montmartre, which is unusual for a fashion brand. What do you like about working here?

I guess the mix of people here is quite inspiring, and it’s not as bourgeois as other Paris neighbourhoods. Being on a hill gives you a sense of distance as well. When we do castings and fittings, it’s funny to see the reactions of locals and tourists. I grew up on rue des Martyrs in the 9th, which isn’t far from there.

What were your references for the show?

This collection is the most personal I have done so far, because it goes back to my childhood memories. I was born in the US, New Jersey, to be precise, but my father has Filipino roots. My mother is French, and she met him during her first trip to the US. 8 years later, we moved back to France.

That must have been quite a shock.

It was. And the world had changed, too. I was born in 1992 and am fascinated with the 90s. Growing up in a multicultural environment was a great experience for me, and I wanted to use it as my main inspiration for this collection. Paris has evolved a lot over the years and has become less insular. More people speak English now, and I find the youth here really inspiring. I like how young French people express themselves and their authenticity. They are French, but open to the world. Of course, they have been influenced by American culture as well.

What’s your vision of the American dream?

Looking at the fires in Southern California and how people responded truly illustrates how resilient and positive Americans are. No matter what happens, they look forward. Of course, I dislike aspects of American life, but solidarity is still present. What has been lost, perhaps, is the openness Americans used to have towards foreigners, allowing them to have their chance, which contributed to the country’s richness and diversity.

There’s a return to bigotry, racism and homophobia in the US, which I find really frightening. It also makes it okay for other bullies to be abusive to others.

It frightens me, too. What’s hard to understand about the US is that it’s a nation of contrasts and extremes, ranging from the best to the worst. I have to say that living here feels like the right choice for now.

From the outside, it also looks like a tough and unforgiving society, where money is paramount.

That aspect repulses me, to be honest. Relationships are calculated instead of being genuine. There is going to be a wake-up call for sure, but it needs to happen fast.

It felt like your show dealt with rootlessness and this notion of wandering, or perhaps not belonging.

I travelled a lot with my mother when I was a child, and she educated me to enjoy discovering other cultures. We used to collect magnets from the places we visited, and I turned some of them into patches, which were embroidered on different pieces. Those magnets were treasures for us. One of the highlights of my childhood was ‘le goûter’ after school. All these cakes and treats were available for the whole family to eat. It was a moment of joy, generosity and pleasure.

Sugar is often associated with female figures. Many kids go to their granny hoping to score more sweets or chocolates.

True. My mother, grandmother and great-grandmother would be there, as well as some of my friends. These may have been short moments, but their cheerfulness and joy stayed with me as an adult. It was this bond between generations that I wanted to express within the collection. I grew up surrounded by nature, which was more visible in the show this time. I tried to turn utilitarian styles into precious garments, using lace trim or glass beads. The noise of these garments was quite intriguing, too.

It’s almost as if the clothes became protagonists, with a life and soul of their own.

It was performative, of course. We gathered leaves in the countryside and placed them on socks using latex.

The last looks made me think of the Tuareg people and somehow becoming part of the desert. It encapsulated a longing for spirituality and meaning, beyond the materiality of clothes.

I’m happy you saw this. The leaves were falling off the models’ socks, leaving traces everywhere.

Almost like footsteps in the desert. You also offered an actual goûter before and after the show.

Many people stayed afterwards to enjoy the cakes and hot chocolate. That kind of dimension is so important for BLUEMARBLE. We want to share things with others.

That was great, because no one feeds fashion people!

That was the immersive experience we tried to recreate. People run to shows and then they leave, which is quite brutal in a way.

Is BLUEMARBLE an independent brand?

It is, and I want it to stay like this for as long as possible.

What are the pros and cons of running an independent brand?

The advantages of being independent are freedom, daring and experimentation. Every design we create is embedded with optimism and a certain joie de vivre, which is key for the brand. All our garments carry that sense of hope in themselves. Colours also play a vital part within BLUEMARBLE because they generate energy and provoke desire. Ultimately, spontaneity and integrity are the only way to distinguish yourself as an independent brand.

Which part of your work do you enjoy the most?

There are many moments I love in the end, but what I’m truly passionate about is exchanging with others, whether it be buyers, press or people from my own team. That constant interaction remains my favourite part.

What’s missing in fashion today?

There is too much calculation and strategy within fashion, as opposed to creativity and fearlessness. Of course, those strategic aspects can be important, but they should never take over a designer’s imagination and instincts. The beauty of fashion is that it encapsulates one moment fully and completely. If you take spontaneity out of that recipe, you don’t have much left. Interestingly, our most intricate and embellished pieces are currently the ones that are selling the most.

Do you think we’re back to opulence and a more decorative idea of fashion? The problem with so-called ‘quiet luxury’ is that it also contributes to this feeling of a homogenised fashion landscape.

I agree. At the same time, this opulence has always been part of our identity as a brand. We need to amplify that message in the near future. We are currently developing footwear and accessory lines, which is really exciting. Something can feel intricate and lived-in at once. What I enjoy the most is this idea of a clash between delicate refinement and sartorial roughness.

***

SATOSHI KUWATA

Japanese, Milan based

You chose to present your collection during Pitti Uomo last January. What motivated you to do this?

When I worked for Givenchy, we had seasonal shows, so in a way, I was already used to it. Regarding Setchu as a company, I think it’s essential that we express who we are, and until now, we have picked the presentation format. The Pitti team had attended my presentations since the beginning, so we knew each other already. They invited me to Florence and asked if I was interested in doing a fashion show with them.

So you had a solid partner to do this with, right?

Yes. Still, I was advised to do a show that would be different from what you usually see. Instead of having one model at a time, I sometimes had 3, which allowed guests to see that my garments are transformable. I also created a display area upstairs where models were present, to let people look at the pieces in detail. A fashion show doesn’t even last 10 minutes, and there’s no time to digest anything.

And they couldn’t run to the next show either, because there wasn’t one.

Exactly. I could do a show with this extra element to make it richer.

Do you think fashion shows are necessary for brands?

I don’t think doing a show for a young brand makes much sense. If you have more than 200 stockists, that is fair enough, but I did presentations first, which was a great format for Setchu. Do I feel like I have to do a show again? Not really.

But would you like to do one?

I just don’t want to do standard fashion shows. What’s the point of that?

If you look at Undercover, for instance, their shows are more like events or performances. Having more designers like you willing to change that basic show experience would be nice. The entire thing feels quite robotic now.

If I had a sugar daddy or sugar mommy, sure, I would do it, but I also want to keep my pricing within a certain range. Cashmere is currently our best-selling fabric, and if I started to do shows every year, then I would have to double the prices of those items. Do you see what I mean?

Yes.

I’ve been in talks with many consultants and will decide later on what to do for next season. We did Pitti for the press, but it’s also important for retailers. It allowed them to engage with the brand in a more immersive and physical way, allowing them to understand the materials, construction, and detailing up close, which is essential for our type of product. Interestingly, we have a group of journalists who regularly order our clothes, and that has helped us a lot as a brand. We haven’t reached the end consumer yet, but when I find out that some of our pieces instantly sell out in some stores we’ve been working with for a few months, it gives me hope and excitement.

When did you launch the brand?

We officially launched Setchu in 2023. It was a turning point for me—a moment when everything I’d learnt over the years finally aligned with a vision I could fully call my own.

And you won the LVMH Prize the same year, which is incredible.

I work very hard on finding a balance in the collection between bolder pieces and others that are more subtle. We want something real. The fashion world is so competitive these days that designers feel tempted to do things just to please certain people. They lose themselves in that process. I have to be completely transparent here. People have also helped me with the presentations and offered their services for free because they believed in me and what I was doing. I’m obviously extremely grateful for this, because the reality is that I couldn’t afford them.

It is reassuring that people in our industry still act so generously. And I think it’s important to do this when it comes to young brands with real potential. We need to give people a chance, and it can’t always be about money.

I feel extremely lucky.

Did you always dream of having your own brand?

For a long period, I was concealing my desire to have my brand, especially at work. When I was a child, I wanted to be a cook, a designer or a fisherman.

Do you have a passion for the sea?

I grew up surrounded by water and nature, which was wonderful. I loved cooking with my mother and finding out how the dosage of ingredients can radically affect a dish. I guess it was always about making things. And I do think fashion and cooking are very similar.

What would you say is missing within our industry today?

When you design for a huge brand, your frustration is that no one might ever wear the garment you spent months working on. You create things that never get produced. With Setchu, I want to be as authentic and honest as possible. People told me at the beginning I was crazy working with such expensive fabrics, especially when mass luxury brands were cutting corners to maximise profits. But to me, investing in the best materials is non-negotiable—it’s what gives Setchu its soul and longevity. But if I can offer a cashmere coat for €5,000 that a big designer brand will charge €20,000 for, then I have potential for growth. I know that €5,000 is a lot of money, and I can’t even afford most of the collection myself, but it’s about a certain ideal and aspiration, too. Great design is timeless and always relevant. All I want to focus on right now is beautiful, high-quality garments.

There seems to be a growing disinterest in mass luxury and ubiquitous branding. Do you think you can benefit from this consumer fatigue?

Yes. We have an excellent opportunity to educate clients and make them understand what real value is. You know, the buyers coming in here are already prepared mentally for the pricing. They understand it.

I think it’s great to see a brand like yours getting that validation from key retailers. It’s very uplifting.

Some of our factories work for Maison Margiela, Loro Piana and Ralph Lauren Purple Label. We’re very selective when it comes to fabrics and manufacturing. Italians are tough to work with, and you have to convince them at first, but I am Japanese and love a challenge. What’s nice now is that manufacturers started approaching us, because what we do is innovative for them.

And they are also looking for something to get excited about, like most people in this industry.

Getting our origami jacket produced there was difficult, but I took time to explain it to them. Fashion is about seducing people and getting them on board. The problem is that there is too much uniformity within so-called ‘luxury fashion’. We’d rather communicate on the quality of our fabrics than pay celebrities, or what is referred to now as ‘brand ambassadors’. This approach helps us build trust and credibility with a more discerning audience, who value substance over hype.

How do you feel about sustainability, and how does it relate to Setchu?

Japan has always been forward-thinking when it comes to sustainable practices. It is the first country that invented water-recycling systems for instance, but it’s also the worst, given how much plastic is consumed there each year. My take on sustainability is that it has to come from the design itself. That’s why we tend to take fabric away from some of our styles to make them more sustainable. We use recycled fibres, too.

What’s your take on independent brands today, and how do you envisage their future?

This is a great time for independent brands as big maisons retreat from wholesale to focus on direct sales online, or through their own retail networks. That gives room for high-end brands like ours to exist. Look at the success of The Row, for instance. And don’t forget that I was trained at Savile Row. I understand what makes a garment intricate and unique. Fashion is one of the few industries where everyone calls themselves a designer, regardless of the quality and level of their offerings. There should be permits and licenses to check how trustworthy designers are.

Those regulations are not in place, which is also the reason why there are far too many shows on the calendar, most of them mediocre.

The quality of our pieces is what makes us strong. Being a fashion designer isn’t just about grand statements and growing your following. It’s about protecting—and caring for—your client’s skin.

***

MARCO RAMBALDI

Italian, Bologna based

Have you always wanted to launch your own brand? 

I had just finished an internship at Dolce & Gabbana and realised I was not the type of person who would want to undertake a path of growth within certain hierarchical contexts that were so structured. The idea of going for an independent path had already presented itself to me a few years before. In 2014, a couple of months after graduating, I won a competition by the National Chamber of Italian Fashion called Next Generation. I didn’t want to immediately continue as an independent designer because I felt that I still had to learn the ropes and work in order to gain experience. Studies are fundamental, but they are not enough without the work that needs to be done afterwards.

Did you already have ideas of what your brand could stand for?

I had precise ideas about what I wanted to convey and the themes I wanted to touch on, which -in my opinion- had been neglected, if not completely ignored, within the historical context we were in. It seemed therefore necessary to start the journey with my eponymous brand.

Why is it important to stay independent?

Being independent gives you 360-degree control of your world, from the creative part and strategic choices to the final product. In a reality like the one we’re living in today, it is also very complicated to remain independent, mainly because of investments that would be useful to achieve greater growth. We aim for measured and gradual growth and do not want to become too big overnight, which means we could lose control of what we are doing, our goals and our values. This is our pace, slow but inexorable, done well and improved upon, without ever losing sight of the quality of the garments and the symbolic value they represent.

What role does sustainability play in your work?

Sustainability is a necessary requisite within our daily practice. The fabrics and waste yarns from the “industrialised” production of the collection find new life through handmade processes. Our crocheted garments, in addition to being unique, are sustainable and can be created by assembling some already existing old pieces with new shapes and doilies made by our artisans. They express and convey a memory of the past. From elements linked to the life of a housewife for instance, they turn into new symbols that -once featured on unique garments- transform this memory of the past into a future vision of a strong, feminine -and also feminist- woman. The printed fabrics we use are recycled fabrics. For the summer collection, we used a lot of linen, one of the fibres with the least environmental impact. Linen is one of the easiest fibers to reproduce as well, since the flax plant grows effortlessly and spontaneously. Polyester is non-existent for us if it is not recycled polyester. Finally, the entire production cycle is made in Italy and concentrated around Bologna -our city- and in the regions of central and northern Italy.

What is wrong with the fashion system today, and how can we fix it?

Today, I see the fashion system as being complicated. It seems that all the rules built over time are slowly eroding. I think that we can only grow together as an industry using dialogue, comparison and exchange in order to create a new system. I also think we strongly need to regain the attention of fashion buyers, shops, department stores and boutiques, too, so that we can go back to doing research, making the final consumer discover new brands or brands that are emerging. I think there is a need for unity if we do not want to be crushed by marketing. Marketing is fundamental, but we know that fashion needs poetry, storytelling, and sincerity in order to truly change the world.

The fashion landscape is increasingly dominated by luxury groups on the one side and fast fashion brands on the other. What role should independent designers have within this landscape?

Our proposal is based on the idea that what was once identified as a search for exclusivity has morphed into a desire for individual self-expression. I therefore think that our role is to convey messages and values, which a niche of people manage to identify. Bologna is the city we live and work in. We are linked to the community we interact with, and that community inspires and stimulates us on a daily basis. Season after season, we try to represent it and give voice to it. We are talking about a real world, which already exists and did not feel represented beforehand. 

How would you define your own queerness?

Defining yourself as queer means being able to constantly redefine your own identity, so for us queers it is not only about rebelling and fighting for our rights, but also embracing and revitalising the good features from the past.

What makes your work different, powerful and personal?

Our interpretation of the ‘Made in Italy’ label is rooted within tradition but committed to change. It is ultimately reworked through its cultural context and not only used as a guarantee of quality. In fact, it is the matrix of creative force and not its outcome. It is only through the recovery of what is undeniably ancient -but that also belongs to us-  that we will be able to understand where we come from and what is the world we want to build. Marco Rambaldi’s mission as a brand is to give a voice to the multifaceted queer community that surrounds and inspires us, while aiming for excellence in the materials crafted by the skilled hands of Italian artisans. We want to share that vision with the industry(?) and the world. We believe in kindness, sustainability, tradition and the recovery of discarded materials. We try to infuse our clothes with all those values while using ancient manufacturing techniques, which we aim to update and pass on to the next generations.

What does the word ‘diversity’ mean to you?

What we define as ‘different’ is often linked with ignorance, precisely because we are ignorant of culture, religion, way of life or simply an aesthetic that is far from what we are used to in our daily lives. Inclusion for us is something completely natural, and it has been part of the brand’s DNA since it was conceived in 2017. Making fashion for us has to do with the social and the political, putting the issue of gender equality at the centre of our work. For this summer season, we wanted to pay homage to the beauty of bodies that are still considered ‘different’, for instance,  Veronica Yoko’s body – a special person we met in Bologna and had an immediate and beautiful connection with. We were also inspired by BigMama and Francesco Cicconetti, whom I consider wonderful activists in defence of the queer and plus-size community. Unfortunately, we are regressing from the point of view of body representation because the key notion of inclusivity has been treated like any other trend. We proudly continue on our path to doing what we think is right. Bodies are content. They stand for protest, too. Bodies are history and the starting and finishing point of all our clothes.

Do you think the concept of star designer is still current? 

No, I don’t think it is current. It is certainly not something that can belong to Marco Rambaldi as a brand. I think it’s something more linked to previous generations, perhaps the 1980s. Today, that notion of the star designer no longer feels current. In fact, I think it’s even frowned upon. With this, I don’t mean to say that consumers don’t care who designs their clothes. On the contrary, I think this is always of great interest to people and, therefore, very nice when dialogue is created and there is an exchange of ideas and opinions. I have personally noticed this interest in the curiosity of discovering each other now, creatives and consumers in the post-show moments, during a sample sale, planned events or simply through chance meetings on the street. I find it very stimulating.

Is humour important in your work? 

Yes, it is. I think there’s a touch of humour in the creative work we carry forward. I also think it’s a purely Italian type of humour, a sort of legacy coming from big names such as Franco Moschino or Elio Fiorucci. Humor allows you to grasp attention and focus it on important issues, such as feminism, equal rights and the LGBTQI+ community, using a pinch of irony or sarcasm. We did it with the Spring/Summer 2025 collection through our reinterpretation of vintage posters linked to the province of Bologna, the place where we live and work on a daily basis. Those posters were transformed into jacquard-knitted sweaters with ‘Nothing to say’ written on the back.

Are you enthusiastic when you think about the future?

I’d say I am. Unfortunately, our current historical and social situation makes it difficult for us to stay enthusiastic. We must keep resisting within this fragile moment, trying to fight in our small way to continue to design, create and express ourselves with complete freedom.

What role does emotion play in your creative process?

A crucial one. Emotion is something extremely precious within our creative process. Without emotion, our world would be flat, a world of clothes without any creativity, values or messages. 

How do you keep your motivation alive?

Through information, travel, and the discovery of new worlds, new cultures and people. We’re stimulated by 360-degree research that can start from a book, an exhibition, a film, a place in your city or in a country on the other side of the world. Freedom -and free thought- are the basis of our work, constantly motivating us to move forward and have a vision of the future we wish to project.

In 2024, is it possible for fashion not to be political?

Not in our approach, since our goal is to transmit our values by breaking down the stereotypes imposed by society. For us, fashion is a fundamental means to express messages. It is a mirror and matrix of society because it reflects it but evolves it at the same time. Fashion has to do with politics and social issues. By working with images, it can also reach places words often fail to reach. 

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LUCA MAGLIANO

Italian, Bologna based

Was there a specific moment in your life when you knew you’d be launching your own brand? What made you take the plunge?

It’s hardly a story that is rational or linear, but I do remember feeling angry. I remember that fantasising about the project of launching my brand was the only thing that excited me. It transported me. Every bit of rage I had felt had to find its own moment of redemption within the project. Every wrong had to find its spectacular and liberatory space. This might make me seem disconnected or privileged, but I actually wanted this so profoundly because I knew it would heal me.

Over the past 15 years, the fashion landscape has been increasingly dominated by luxury groups on the one hand and fast fashion on the other. What role should independent designers play within that landscape?

Independent brands deal with innovation every day; they have to face the tough rules of reality and yet perform fantasy. It’s a game of hope and uncertainty. Independence is a sort of hardcore chant to fragility.

What does the word ‘queer’ mean to you?

An allergic body that reclaims its own space. Queer is resistance and alliance.

How important is craft within your approach?

If we’re talking about the practice of making things by hand, it is very important. Doing things myself always gives me incredible satisfaction. If we’re talking about the craft of imagination, it’s also very important. My career has always been about surrounding myself with craft and people who craft things themselves.

Do you think the notion of the star designer is still relevant? Or do most consumers not care about the person designing their clothes?

I don’t think so. Who actually cares about stars? But I do think that designers shouldn’t fight intimacy through their work; they should surrender to intimacy in order to truly engage people. 

Is humour important in your work? 

The act of laughing in the face of fear is the quintessence of chic. Humour is a manifesto of elegance.

Are you optimistic about the future?

I trust Preciado, so yes, it is our political duty to believe that things will improve. 

What role does emotion play within your creative process?

A vital one for sure. Emotion is the central theme of design because design needs to deal with empathy. 

How do you keep your motivation going?

To me, making clothes is the most beautiful job in the world. I feel extremely lucky to be able to do what I love. Going beyond all the stress, difficulties and issues this job entails, I can’t overlook the privilege I have to be a designer and this is what fuels my work.

Which direction would you like to see fashion heading towards?

Definitely, that of sustainability, which is a crucial direction. Sustainability as synonym of awareness, applied on every level. To not be fully aware of where we are and what surrounds us, beyond the rules of the fashion market, cannot be a choice anymore. 

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NENSI DOJAKA

Albanian, London Based

What motivates you to keep pushing yourself technically as a designer?

I’ve been draping more and more lately, as opposed to sketching. I guess I feel more connected to something I drape directly instead of working from a sketch. The more draping you do, the more you improve on your technique. We also did more pieces in-house this time, and it was great to be able to see everything made in front of me. It was like old times in a way, making so many garments directly in the studio.

When you started out, several journalists referred to your work as ‘body-con’, which used to irritate me immensely as I found it quite reductive. Do you think that people better understand the subtleties and refinement of your clothes now?

I’m not sure actually, but it’s always nice when someone notices and takes the time to tell you. I have the feeling that people pay more attention to those details today, and that’s a positive change. My clothes used to be labelled as ‘sexy’, which honestly drove me crazy. Now, the feedback I get is much more nuanced. For the last show we did in London, I told my casting director I didn’t want any celebrities walking the show because it could send out the wrong message. Then people use the word ‘sexy’ again instead of ‘sensual’ or ‘erotic’. We work with celebrities, obviously, but sometimes it can distract you from the actual clothes.

In your collections, you’ve managed to strike a fine balance between flou garments and more tailored pieces. How did that happen?

I wear the tailoring myself, which helps me perfect it. Now, I know more about what I want from those pieces and how to improve them. Still, tailoring is something I need to work on much more. You cannot call yourself an accomplished designer if you do not master the whole technique behind such highly constructed garments. 

This is a moment when many designers shout to get attention, and it’s no longer about subtle gestures. Do you think some people in this industry lack the education to appreciate more subdued clothes?

The attention span has been lost. Everything goes so fast and must be instagrammable at all times, including the ubiquitous celebrity moments. I also feel that no one actually takes the time to properly look at shows anymore. I want to go online and see the shows, but they all get eclipsed by those celebrity moments. It feels so strange and overwhelming, too. It kind of disconnects you from all the runway shows actually. 

Everyone is talking about everything except the clothes, which, in a way, reflects the current malaise we are in.

Absolutely. 

I wonder if we got to this point because people don’t have the knowledge to describe the clothes or that the clothes themselves are not innovative enough to deserve being mentioned. It creates a weirder and more complicated context for independent brands.

I’m in my 5^th year now running my own brand, and even though I’m proud of what I have achieved, I’m not going to lie and say that the past two years have been easy for us. Over the past 12 months, I have made some changes in-house and felt the need to restructure things despite the fact that we are still a small team. I think I got too caught up in what buyers were telling me, maybe, or taking in feedback from other people in the industry that ended up being quite superficial. I find myself returning to what I did at the beginning and listening to my instincts. 

What are the main obstacles independent brands face today?

The wholesale business is in shambles at the moment, and I didn’t have e-commerce until very recently, which means I can now sell directly to my clients. The progress of the brand is perhaps not as big as I thought it would be, but considering the current circumstances, I’m rather pleased with how things are. 

Poetry is an important element in your work. Can you explain why?

I’m a very emotional person, and sometimes, I can’t work at all if I don’t feel something. It can be good or bad, but the process for me is much more connected to my state of being, which -in my opinion- makes it poetic and artistic. I’m not sure people see this but, to me, creation is a very internal and subjective process. A few seasons ago, I actually named one of my garments the Heartbreak Dress, and it was a clear illustration of how brokenhearted I felt at that precise moment. 

I’m fascinated by how you can channel all those contrasting emotions to create something truly innovative. Where do you think that energy comes from?

I need that tension to sit down and start draping something on the mannequin. I don’t have mood boards and never look at other people’s work for inspiration. Things come from my head, which I think is the only true place from which to create. In order to be genuine, you need to feel something. I love reading and drawing, too. I also like being and working alone, which is ideal for draping and staying focused. There are dresses in the last summer collection I feel really connected to, and they are some of my favourites.

That collection was joyful and celebratory, which is much needed now.

It’s true. I hadn’t done a show for a while and wanted it to mean something. I was quite grateful for that.

Are fashion shows necessary?

I’ve already told people I do not want to showcase in February. I think there are other ways to showcase your work now that are more effective than a traditional runway show. It’s a huge investment not feasible for young brands like mine. However, it helps as an immediate form of communication. Sometimes, it makes me sad to see the lack of response if we do not do a show. Doing a show means we will get more styling requests, which is essential for us as a young brand.

What alternatives do you see?

You can put together a great shoot with some celebrities and promote it online. In the beginning, I used Instagram a lot and treated it like a creative diary, but it’s obviously changed now and has become more and more superficial, which isn’t a good evolution. I also feel that if you do a show every single season, it turns into a robotic exercise after a while, and that’s something I want to avoid at all costs.

Why is it key for you to be independent?

It is challenging and a huge learning curve. I would say it’s important to keep things close to you and have a certain level of care and control. Relationships and trust are crucial. I have made mistakes in the past, but the positive thing is that I feel free to do things the way I want to do them.

There’s been a controversy in the industry recently, due to the fact that more male designers get hired to lead top luxury brands than their female peers. How do you feel about that?

Being a female designer is not an advantage, even though I have this strong connection to the female form in my work. It’s my way of being a woman that I get to express through the clothes, and that is something fundamental for me. Not all brands have this in their DNA, obviously, but I do feel that women are treated differently in fashion. 

In what ways?

I’ve had a few of those interviews for top design positions, and I often feel that headhunters want to hire marketers as opposed to designers. I’m not exactly sure why, but I think women do not promote themselves the same way as men. Those recruiters are looking for strategists, not viscerally talented people.

It’s all about communication today. Look at Jacquemus, for instance. The irony is that there are more and more female graduates in fashion schools, yet this is not reflected within recent industry hires. Some famous female headhunters will deliberately not consider women for such top positions.

I feel that people talk about fashion differently these days. In the case of headhunters, it’s almost as if talking about your work in a passionate or sensitive manner turns against you as a female designer. It’s perceived as a weakness when it should clearly be the opposite. 

The funny thing with these recent appointments is that most of those young male designers are in fact, failing at their job and not doing what they are supposed to. Maybe experience will become trendy again…

I truly hope so. Cold-hearted schemes and plans do not always work; fashion is primarily about craft and true emotion. 

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EDWARD CUMING

Australian, Madrid Based

When did you move to Madrid?

About 5 or 6 years ago, precisely 9 months after I graduated from Central Saint Martins in London. I had been in Spain since 2012, but I moved over because my boyfriend is Spanish, even though we met in Australia many years ago.

What advantages does designing from Spain offer?

It feels like I have a bit of space and things are slower than in other fashion capitals. It gives you a sense of distance as well, even though Madrid is a big city and keeps growing a lot. I have to go to Paris twice a year to market and I love doing that. 

What was the specific moment when you realised you were going to launch your own brand?

It was not a moment but a very slow two years of experimenting. I took freelance jobs after graduating and was teaching, too. Opening Ceremony had expressed interest in my graduation collection and wanted some pieces for their New York and Los Angeles stores. I decided to go for it. It was a small order, but it felt huge for me at the time. I learned about production, too, but I’d say the brand took on a life of its own rather slowly. I gained a few more retail partners along the way and it didn’t feel risky either because I had other jobs on the side. After two years, I understood I had to reduce my freelance work and see where my brand could go. 

It sounds like an enjoyable and healthy progression.

It was. When Opening Ceremony closed -and Matches drastically reduced their orders- I thought that perhaps this was coming to an end. I had no external investment and no CEO. During the pandemic, I decided to skip a season, and then out of nowhere 4, retailers found me. It was The Broken Arm in Paris, Dover Street Market in Ginza, Departamento in Los Angeles and Le Rayon Vert in Chongqing. They wanted to see the collection and there wasn’t one (he laughs).

What did you do?

I had leftover fabrics from previous collections and asked them if they’d be interested in re-editions, perhaps, with a couple of special pieces. They all said yes, and that was very encouraging. That gave me a real push and I felt supported. I was quite transparent with them, so I didn’t put myself under huge pressure either. I also wanted to see if someone would actually spend money on what I designed, and when I realised they would, I thought I could continue and just learn on the go. 

Why was independence relevant to you from the start?

It became more and more important as the brand grew. I knew what it was like working within a huge design team and not particularly identifying with that brand. I had gotten quite frustrated when I worked for those huge brands. When I realised later that people appreciated the clothes I wanted to make, it encouraged me to do more and grow an actual team. While teaching, I hired two interns who became full-time employees. That was a great feeling, because I could hire young graduates and ask them to be creative, which was the opposite of what I had done as a graduate working for larger brands. The more I did it, the more I realised I enjoyed being my own boss and supervising every aspect of the brand. 

Did you find out you had leadership qualities, too?

Absolutely. In my work, I can be very pushy and stubborn, especially when it comes to our suppliers. In my personal life, I’m more than happy for others to make plans and take the lead. 

The fashion landscape is pretty polarised now, from extreme fast fashion to so-called ‘luxury brands’. Why do independent brands still matter?

I think my role is to offer a vision that feels honest and personal. That comes from a small company like ours because what we do is genuine. I don’t want to be too concerned about taking market shares from other brands. I believe independent brands will always be around. They provide a temperature check on what’s happening within the industry at a specific moment. If you are really interested in clothing and fashion, then you will be checking what independent brands are doing. 

Corporate brands are becoming quite interchangeable, which I see as a great chance -and opportunity- for companies like yours.

I try not to compare myself to those brands, but I agree with you on that point. Those brands have huge budgets to deliver something creative, yet what you see in stores looks quite homogenised and impersonal. For smaller brands like ours, there’s no diluted version of anything. Everything we show is going to be sold, which is a really fun challenge for me as a designer. We have to strike the right balance each season. If all these giant brands become homogenised through their commercial offerings, then I believe this is a chance for smaller brands like us. We have to be nimble while finding alternative ways to produce things.

What is distinctive about your work?

In terms of silhouette, we are very much into classics but love experimenting with fabrics, washing or cutting them all out in the studio. That hand intervention is really important for us, as it’s something bigger brands cannot really justify financially. Everything we do is wearable, but perhaps there’s something off or slightly eccentric about the clothes.

Is craft your starting point and key value?

It’s definitely one of them. Craft is a broad term, but it relates to savoir-faire and expertise. Again, we like to intervene in our garments in-house because we want them to feel authentic.

Should the clothes do the talking, or is fashion mainly communication?

I think clothes should be enough. I understand the interest people may have in whoever designed their clothes, but that should not take over the work. I don’t do live Instagram sessions, for instance, but do enjoy sharing some personal aspects of my work online. If it is spontaneous, then I will do it because that feels honest to me. I’m no longer interested in knowing if there’s a strategy involved. I buy clothes from friends’ designers, yet I don’t need to know who they are to connect with their clothing. 

Some designers imbue their clothes with a certain aura, which is tangible but hard to pin down. In French, we describe such objects as ‘habités’ because they are personal and have a soul. Today, it feels like many designers show garments that have nothing to do with themselves. Other departments dictate what clothes should be there.

That’s true. I think the aura is a mix of two things: the designer and the clothes. If something is honest, it will eventually find its audience. There’s no need to impose a narrative on anyone. 

How do you feel about the fashion show format?

I would love to do a show, but I’m not going to get into debt in order to make it happen. It’s a trap and a mistake that I think a lot of designers make. Of course, you can find sponsors and do things with a limited budget, but there was no reason for me to do a show at the beginning. And why do a show when you are still trying to figure out who you are as a brand? You need to be fully ready, both financially and creatively.

That is very refreshing to hear.

If you can’t do it right, then don’t do it at all. I think people are not aware of how expensive doing a fashion show can be. 

What brings you the most joy within your work?

It is getting the collection to a certain point where the rail is growing, and maybe there are 4 or 5 pieces that are new. You put them on and start thinking: ‘God, I really want to have this!’. It took me a while to start wearing my own clothes and get that sort of excitement out of them. At the same time, seeing other people wearing your clothes is such an amazing feeling. I mean, there are companies spending millions on marketing, and yet they have chosen you (he laughs). It’s so beautiful to feel that way, and that is truly special.

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MERYLL ROGGE

Belgian, Ghent based

4 years after launching your eponymous brand, do you feel that there are more female designers doing the same today?

I think there have been quite a bit of female-led brands for a while, and it has not stopped. On the one hand, it’s definitely a positive trend, that women feel like they have something to say and are getting out there. Women have always had couture houses and brands, even going back to the 18^th century. There’s a nice continuity there. On the other, it’s a fact that there are fewer chances for women to score creative director positions within luxury conglomerates. A few things happened to me this year confirming the opinion I had that being a woman in fashion is not easy.

It’s insane to hear such things now, but I get it completely and sadly have to agree.

I never felt this way beforehand, but this is the reality of our business. Thankfully, people are talking about it much more, and there are several successful independent brands led by women, which are making their mark, such as Sacai, Marine Serre or Martine Rose. Women just have to do it their own way, even though the actual fashion workforce is made up of 80% women. I mean, look at politics, too. That thinking is deeply ingrained within our societies.

There should definitely be more radical female designers in fashion. 

At the same time, those women tend to have their own brands, like Miuccia Prada or Rei Kawakubo. They do not work for huge luxury groups, even though they are incredibly successful themselves.

On the one hand, I think management people tend to be more sexist and conservative in their mindsets. On the other, there is this belief and myth that young -and often cute- gay men make better designers, which I think is not true at all. 

There is definitely a kind of stereotype fashion seems to fixate on. In the end, there is no advantage in being a woman at all, apart from the fact that I can wear my entire collection and probably understand the female form better than any other man.

I think the longer female designers last, the more they will set up an example for future women-led brands to come. In that sense, I reckon Marine Serre did a great job opening up the field for more female talents to come to the fore.

I can think of Simone Rocha, too, who has built a very strong brand, both commercially and creatively. To be honest, the past 12 months have opened my eyes in understanding that being good isn’t always enough.

There is so much power in fashion and abuses of power have to be addressed. Otherwise, this industry will never change and get a chance to improve.

I also help other female designers if I can, by sharing information for instance. Over the past 4 years, I have learned so much about this industry and how things work. As designers, we often get caught up in craft and obsessed with how things get made, when in fact fashion is more and more about communication. Look at Simon Porte Jacquemus for example and how much marketing propelled his brand. The thing is, I have so much to handle on a daily basis that I don’t have time to communicate constantly and with the entire world. It’s the last thing I think about, but in the end fashion today has a lot to do with communication. The thing for me is that I’m not really interested in communicating, unless I feel we have something important or relevant to say.

What about sharing things online or exposing some of your private life?

I’m not very comfortable with that. I got married recently and the question occurred: is this important for the brand, and should we reach out to Vogue to try and get an article out of it? In the end, we obviously didn’t do it. Still, there is this pressure for designers to communicate all the time, because if you don’t post stuff on a regular basis then people think the brand is dead. You can’t just show your collection and move on to the next. You have to generate content all year long.

You’ve dressed several celebrities recently, including Dua Lipa, Hailey Bieber or Chloë Sevigny. Is that commercially important?

It brings credibility to your brand. The funny fact is that many of these celebrities buy clothes which is nice and spontaneous. From the start, we’ve always had lots of styling requests, but they’ve definitely increased since we’ve been doing shows in Paris. Sometimes, other brands will also reach out to compliment you on what you’re doing. That’s also a nice thing when it happens. Thanks to our PR agent, David Siwicki, who is based in Paris, we’ve also managed to consolidate existing relationships we had with celebrity stylists. 

Would you ever do red carpet?

If there is budget for it, why not? Our brand is meant to inspire people, even the ones who may not be able to afford our clothes. We also help people dress, often through their stylists. We have dressed our Prime Minister’s wife, for instance, and it’s great to be able to solve their sartorial issues and really make their lives easier.

Do you think people understand your brand better now?

Yes, they do, and we always have an understanding of what sells. We sell clothes that are really useful and that women can wear every day. 

Why did you launch your own brand?

The drive to create and the inner voice pushing me forward were impossible to ignore. I felt a strong urge to share my sense of aesthetics, technical skill, and savoir-faire with others. When people in the fashion industry talk about Meryll Rogge, they often highlight the brand’s uniqueness. In many ways, I suppose we still stand apart as outsiders.

Was being Belgian a plus?

Definitely. Belgium is a small country stuck in between France, Germany, The Netherlands and the UK. All those countries have big personalities, especially in fashion, so Belgians need to figure out their identity. I see that as a huge advantage, because it gives you a lot of freedom creatively. There are a lot of codes in other fashion capitals that do not apply to Belgium. Then of course the Antwerp Six famously contributed to the cachet Belgian fashion has today. Those designers had nothing to do with each other, but being Belgian gave them a certain attitude and something that wasn’t conventional either.

Belgian designers have always been great sources of inspiration for independent brands, perhaps because they do not advertise and use shows as their main marketing tool. And they never advertise either, which shows how Belgians play by their own rules.

Totally. Belgian fashion is seen as being individual, original and qualitative. And, in the end, restrictions push you to be more creative. I think we are quite resourceful in that sense, trying to make magic out of nothing.

Lately, we’ve witnessed some luxury groups facing severe profit drops. Do you think this could represent an opportunity for independent brands like yours? Luxury fatigue is definitely happening right now.

There are two ways to look at this. It’s either time for new blood and completely fresh names to appear, shifting fashion into unexpected directions, or it will be an even more conservative time with the same group of designers rotating from one big house to another.

Shall we be optimistic, even though this period is clearly risk-averse?

Sure. I mean, we are still around, and as long as some people in the industry understand what true talent is, I’m sure we will be fine.

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