Marine Yee: The Quiet Creative Force

An interview with the talented, and reclusive, Marina Yee, a key figure of the Antwerp Six. We sat down to discuss her work and inspiration, and the story behind her café.

This interview was originally for Casa Montego, our print publication started by myself and Ricardo Rodriguez. We’re currently undergoing a few changes, so we’ve decided to publish the interview through Duchump.

Enjoy.

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Introduction & Interview by Edward Luekehoelter

“London, 1986. A group of unknown graduates from the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp arrive at the British Designer Show… [in] three days, they find themselves stocked at Barneys, Bergdorf and Liberty of London, and propelled into the media stratosphere. Ann Demeulemeester, Marina Yee, Dries Van Noten, Dirk Bikkembergs, Dirk Van Saene and Walter Van Beirendonck become the Antwerp Six.”

- Hannah Rogers, AnOther Magazine

I am, quite often, unhappy with how things in my life are going, and wish I could drop everything; run away to a cafe, one that I’ve opened, I don’t know where. Serve people croissants, pour them coffee. I often wish I could do what I want, when I want, not be beholden to some bureaucratic rigidity, not school, not an employer, not an email in my box or an invoice. I often wish I could create as I want, do as I want, make a beautiful coat, sell if I want to, keep it if I want to. I wish I could drop in on the greatest artists we have like an equal, match or exceed them, and return to that cafe, those coffees, those croissants, when the moment is right and the sun is warm. I wish.

Marina Yee does. Take it from her.

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How’re you doing? I understand it’s been a pretty busy time for you these past few months.

I’ve been busy because my brand, if you can call it that, is so small. We’re working on our next season, so there’s only four people. I have two agents — Raf is one of them — and then another agent in Tokyo. My son does the financial aspect of the brand. We do a lot, and it’s hard work, but I like hard work, aim alway designing, and always bringing in new ideas. But it’s hard because we have all these new fabrics, and we have to keep up with orders, shipping, and boxes — everything.

I’ve worked in a small studio space before and I get the idea – having a brand stocked at locations like DSM and SSENSE that’s only run by four people is very very impressive!

It’s actually not really possible, but I want to keep it as small as possible. The venture is being catapulted by Raf, who’s pushing for the typical fashion cycle of two collections a year, and I’m against that. My collections are small because I cannot push out hundreds of products a year, because I think if you have a creative mind, it’s gifted to you. Of course, you learn to reuse it and to strengthen it, but it is a gift — from God, or whatever energy you believe in. I’m the keeper of that.

I’ve heard that from many creatives – that you have to not force yourself too much, you have to let it stem from inspiration.

It’s also against many designers who have teams of young people designing for them — like a creative factory. That’s fine, it’s just another system. I don’t want to do that. For me, it’s more valuable to just create from the demands of my ideas, but I’m trained to be able to make it happen. The years and years of experience are paying off.

It sure seems like it!

It’s because I’m older! I just know and recognize the choices I have. I’m very stubborn, I’m very independent, and I want to stay like that. With these collections with Raf, who’s my door to the world, I’m the one inside, in my atelier, very alone in there, and I love it.

So, for any of the design work, you’re doing it all yourself for as long as it takes?

I’m here with my two cats and lots of stuff around me, which is displayed because it inspires me. It’s my home too — I live here, so it’s like a little museum. I don’t call it a museum, but the few people who come here to visit sometimes do. Raf often takes pictures of my walls or my moodboards and then posts them on Instagram. I don’t do that. That’s his thing. And then I see it and go, “Oh, that’s part of my wall!” and he’s always naughty about it.

I was just looking at your page earlier, and there’s a lot of what looks like art installations! There’s paintings, and some beautiful sculpture work.

Yes, I have a lot of pictures, but nobody sees them. I just take them to make a mental note or to add them to personal archives. But a lot of phones have these systems that say, “Oh, look what you were doing however many years ago,” and then I go, “Oh yeah!”

I have all these, and sometimes Raf gets them to post. I am not at all interested in the internet — I’d rather look at my own work, and every day I wake up, and after making coffee, I ask myself, “What am I going to do today?” I’m always doing things, I can never take holidays, I’m always busy. It’s not busy, really; I just have so many things that I still want to do.

It sounds like you really love it – what’s all on that pressing list of things to do?

Well, I stopped teaching in June; I’m on the pension now, retired now, technically, so the last chapter of my life starts. Sometimes I did a painting, sometimes I did a little sculpture or a collage, but I always had to stop because reality came in, and I had to wake up early and teach, have a regular life. Of course, it’s another button you have to push. And also with collections, it’s like I have to finish this because Raf is waiting, all that, and it’s this whole machine — people are always waiting.

Times between all of that when I’m in my own wonderland where I can express myself without any disturbance are very rare. I have a son who lives with me; he doesn’t bother me, but I’m not alone in my house. But I really live a very simple life — and am very, I think, a bit of a hermit.

It seems to be an effective way for artists to work.

I want to live to be one hundred and eleven years old —

That’s an attainable goal these days!

It means I have to stop smoking my little cigarettes — but I don’t drink, I eat healthy. It’s fun.

You mentioned teaching before – you were teaching up until this point?

Yes, I taught design. I also gave fashion drawing and general drawing courses. I actually developed different methods to teach young people, and they’re still using them in school.

What methods did you find worked best?

I’m very intuitive, so I used that, as well as some yoga, but without saying it was yoga. The main goal was to get them wondering, and to think like children again. I always said, “Listen – when you were three or four years old, you didn’t think, you just drew, or you just expressed yourself, without any fear of failure.” So, I then started to develop games to keep them on the wrong foot. I always did things to surprise them, and to get them laughing. Laughing always opened them up, because there’s always this wondering about things, and I wanted them to be very open, relaxed, and happy, and to get them to play. And then they just blossom. Especially at the ages they are, around eighteen to twenty, they’re so vulnerable, and afraid of the world, and damaged by the world, or their family, or many other things. I remember that at that age, I was so fucked up — sorry for the language!

I was so afraid, and that was my solution. I developed moodboards, but without speaking. They had to express in images, without speaking, their world: fears, dreams, all of that. The others had to say what they saw and what they felt. It was very intense, but also interesting for everybody. You have to go past that normal level of awareness, and you have to go into this deep awareness of yourself and how to communicate that.

There were tears sometimes, and it was very touching — also, people can see your secrets, even if you don’t say it.

When did you start to develop these methods?

I started when I was about forty-something, and since I was new to teaching, I was really trying to find ways to get them to discover themselves with me, and learn their own value. I was kind of strict, but I never used power. Many teachers use methods that try to break students, to humiliate them, and I really don’t like that. It’s very easy to do, because they’re young, hm?

I really try to do the opposite, to empower them, and to show them that it’s their own force. They’re the power, not me — I’m just leading the way.

That sounds like an amazing way to do it. Circling back a bit, what was the impetus for this round of fashion production, given that you’ve been fairly on and off with producing clothes since the 80s, and especially with this sort of scale with Raf?

It’s because of Raf!

He’s the one who sort of made the door open — when it was just me, I had issues with organizing with the outside world. I had problems with the crowds, and all the people. I don’t like it. I didn’t mind it when I was younger, and I went out, but now I’d rather stay here. It’s not that I don’t like the people, I’m just not interested in them. I’m interested in non-people. I’m interested in a little bug on my flowers, my cats, my son, and a few friends. I’m not in fashion at all, funnily enough, but Raf is.

I can do fashion design. I love clothing, but I don’t love the fashion scene.

That’s totally fair. Like what you were saying earlier, needing to have design teams of 30 people and minimum two shows a year is a lot.

It’s just big business. Especially the past ten to fifteen years — small designers aren’t able to compete. It’s not like how it was when The Six was happening. Now, all these big labels are just so calculated, so powerful, they’re all just money-making machines. They treat their customers like shit, but they wrap it in gold paper with a logo, and then a ribbon with another logo. And it’s okey-dokey. I think it’s so hypocritical. It’s strange to say, but I don’t want to be famous. Raf always says, “But you are famous!”, but being famous is actually dangerous. Because you lose your feet on the ground, and you think you’re something else, but I’m happy as I am.

I don’t want to be famous. I don’t care about likes or anything like that, I’m happy with myself as I am. Do you understand?

100%.

I think it’s maturity too. I was very insecure before. I was searching for love, for acceptance, ready to crawl over the floor for anything — I didn’t do that, but I was unhappy. That’s why I stopped fashion around the same time. I was so insecure, and I didn’t know who I was — and then there was Martin, and Ann, and Dries, and they were all very business-oriented, and backups, and families, and money, and they had it in their blood. I didn’t. I was just an artist, and I didn’t. I didn’t know, I was an artist, and that’s a lonely position. What a change.

Do you need so many people to love you? What is real love? Not a like, or anything like that, but true love, genuine love. And not like romantic love, it can be, but just love. It’s a very simple but very complex topic. I think we should just be treating each other with love.

What are we forgetting? What are we chasing? What’s the hurry? That’s Marina Yee’s saying when she’s in the rat race. What’s the hurry? I’m open about it. I know that, Raf knows that, and to come back to your question, what I always found, even when I had my baby, and when I wasn’t in fashion and the others were, is that I always sketch collections and designs. I also did some art, even though nobody saw it – that creative spirit is always there. It didn’t go away. I always was creative, and then I did this coffee shop, which was very creative but different, and then when my son was in school there was theatre, and opera, and costumes – many people don’t know.

The creative drive, especially with fashion or clothing design, even if myself or others were not aware, was always there. I was sad about it — I felt like I had something to give, and would I die without sharing it, or developing it, seeing it grow? I’m not talking about a business — I see things and feel things in a particular way. I have this gift, and it would be sad to not use it to the maximum capacity. And with Raf he understands my position in a way. But he’s rich to another world, that of the customer, the stores, the collections, the prices. So, I was like, “Yes, if you can do all that, please, then I can design with you.” We were a match in heaven. But without him, I tried to do something else, and it was more of an event, or with a friend in Paris, but they were more like installations, and they didn’t go anywhere, they were just expressions. I didn’t build anything, but it was because I’m not ambitious in a way. I’m ambitious in fulfilling myself, in my house, with my friends, of “Oh, what can I do with this? What can I paint now?” and I have all this stuff, and yesterday I bought a set of ram’s horns at the market, and I knew, it’s now in front of me, and I said to myself, you are going to be used in a great art.

That’s kind of how my intuition and my antennae work — it’s part of my happiness, my personal fulfillment. For me, it’s much better than being famous. Do you know what I mean?

I know what you mean.

Being famous, for me, it’s like, “Do you actually want to be a product?” Because to me, being famous is being a product. It’s about advertising contracts, and all that. I’m a — how do I translate it — being old-fashioned, I am a new old-fashioned person. Because it’s like common sense, and a bit more romantic. Like, what are we doing? What are we chasing after? And why?

I observe, and that’s why I keep out of the industry. And that’s why they call me difficult — Raf is always like, “Oh, we need this interview,” but I insist that I only talk over the phone! No writing. Writing feels like I’m in school. What I like is to speak, and then I can explain everything.

You’ve been absolutely wonderful so far! Could we circle back to that cafe you mentioned? I’m very curious about it.

Indigo was the name.

Was I .. yes! I had just gotten pregnant with my son, Farah, around two or three months in. I came from Paris, left Martin there, and I left fashion behind. I was very depressed and had no other way out. My mother helped me, my sister helped me, and I was at home with my parents, who were antique dealers. A lot of old, damaged furniture was at their place. So, I just started to paint. My brother said, “Oh, that looks nice! There’s a market where you could sell.” So we went to the market and sold everything. I thought, “Oh, let’s do another one,” and then another one.

My brother lives in Brussels, and he said, “If this is going so well, and you do this with old furniture and bright colours, I have a space I can rent to you and give you the money for. Put the furniture in there, decorate it like you do.” And I did. I had these rusty garden chairs and all these damaged things. I was very into it – things that had lived. It was like an art installation. I had these café tables too, by the chairs.

I turned my back for one second, and there was this guy out by the window, smoking cigarettes and reading the paper! I was like, “Huh, what is he doing there?” When I went out, he said, “Can I have a coffee please? And a croissant?” I had just made coffee for myself, and because I was in the shop and painting, I thought, “Oh shit, well, I’ll bring him the coffee.” I told him, “Just a moment please,” went to the bakery, bought a bag of croissants, went back to the kitchen, and prepared him a croissant.

Since he was sitting in this big window, an hour later some more people came. Luckily, I had more croissants – it was the only thing I could give. Meanwhile, I made some new coffee, and that was it.

Indigo Café started like that.

That is the most organic start to anything I’ve ever heard. That is – wow. That’s phenomenal.

You could buy everything that was there and also, for me, it was not the value of antiques, it was the value of something that had lived. So everything that was there, you could sit on it, and you could buy it. So some of the people that came in ate breakfast at these cafe tables, they were somewhat damaged, then said after, “Can we buy the chairs too?”

I also decorated with fresh things, or things I found in the market. Instead of putting flowers in the cabinets, I put fruit inside, or broken charming things, and it was a big success actually. After that, I made these homemade cakes, my favourites, and don’t ask for a coke – I’d always say that if somebody asked for a coke they’d have to go and find one. Here, you could have fresh lemonade, made fresh, homemade French chocolate choux, quiche, carrot cake, butter cake, very simple. And it was on a big table, like grandmother’s food. Bacon and eggs too. It was very charming – people loved it! It was indigo, and a lot of ambience, but it was a bit like what I do with the collections. I like a lot of different things – I like the simplicity, I like the honesty, and the authenticity, and it keeps you humble in a way. So it’s healthy, and it’s more useful than all the shit that pushes us over the edge.

I’m a new old-fashioned person, I’ll tell you!

I believe you!

You know, that’s why I have a black cotton ribbon in my clothing. It’s going back — I call it my Oscar Wilde ribbon. It’s on men’s clothing, women’s clothing, either one. It has my name on it, in black font, and it acts as my logo, but you can take it off. It acts as this reference to the complex simplicity of the ribbon — it doesn’t belong in coats from this time, and that’s why I wanted it.

That is what I do all the time, I always do something that — how do I say that? In Flemish we say “with one corner off,” which is making something perfect and breaking something to disturb it, with natural intuition. There’s a question mark, and it’s very important. It can be a little question mark, but the question mark has a function in my work, in my way of thinking. It’s like when you find an artwork that you keep coming back to, but don’t know why. And the question mark is that — it’s your wonder and your intuition, and something deeper than your awareness of the present. It’s what you do and don’t know simultaneously. It’s wonder — like a child’s wonder, like when you hold your gasp in awe.

When I was talking about this to my students, if you think about something you really love, like your cat or another pet, or when you love someone for the first time or are loved by someone for the first time, that feeling in your stomach, just for a few seconds, that is real love, the core love of life. It’s the feeling we get when we see babies, or baby animals, cute little fluffy pigs, and your mind does all that. So that’s what I want to do: to make an illusion of something perfect, and then make a crack in it. The crack is the most important thing about it — the question mark is an act of rebellion.

Artists should always be arousing these question marks, whether it be about society or something else. Sometimes, people don’t perceive or feel this, but some do. However, over-explaining it is asking for too much attention — people should discover it themselves. For me, I have time, it doesn’t have to happen at this moment. If you don’t see it, and you like the calm, that’s okay. You don’t have to do anything. But I like to plant something imperfect, because the world isn’t perfect, but you can do it in a beautiful way.

For me, it increases the value in antiques — an antique dealer may not like it, but for me, it’s different because of the crack! We’re all very different, and that makes us interesting — don’t listen to the mainstream, it makes us all the same, and that’s very boring, no?

The paradox with the possibilities of the internet is that there are so many things, and it’s overwhelming! It’s better to live slower, but then that’s a paradox with my life because I’m so busy.

I think that’s a very respectful way to go about everything – making sure that you have what you need but not getting overwhelmed, whether that’s art, creativity or the cats.

When you’re super sensitive, everything is already overwhelming, and I think I’m the only one who feels that. Things like the climate disasters are just so overwhelming — everything is burning! The news is talking about a new fire every day — we’re in the middle of the end of the world. Hallelujah!

It’s not falling from the sky, the world is just imploding. We have to take action against these burnouts, literal or not. I will die, not long from now, but if you see the path, take it. We need to come out of our bubble of egocentrism. We should be happy to do something. But everyone is responsible for their own path — I cannot preach.

I just do it for myself, and sometimes for my students, but they’re young and have to make mistakes. Everyone has to live their path. Every mother is aware of that — when I had my baby boy, one moment he would be fine, the next he would fall, and he would cry, but that’s the symbol of our life, yeah? You cannot protect them from falling. It’s the cycle of life to stand back up again.

One hundred percent. Thanks again for this, It’s been so great to be able to talk to somebody who’s been in fashion for so long and can speak on the topic so freely and so eloquently, especially somebody who I read about while getting into this field.

I will always be like that. What I don’t want to do is put down anybody in The Six, they’re wonderful, and worked for so long — they helped me so much, because they proved so much of their talents to the world before me that it opened up doors to Raf and me.

Whenever somebody talks about The Six, everybody flocks to it! People are always curious about our work, and that’s because of Dries, and Ann, and Dirk, and the other Dirk, and Martin and Walter — they helped me make this happen, so I’m very grateful to them, but also to the fashion world — although I’m not into fashion so much.

Voila.

It’s been a constant goal of some people to figure out what exactly was in that first Antwerp Six show – what sort of work did you present?

I don’t remember — oh! It’s been so long, a different show. This was the golden spindle show, I think I used the theme of The Kid from the Charlie Chaplin film of the same name.

It’s a little boy that is like a tramp, living on the street, wearing these old women’s clothes that are too big for him — I found wearing those too-big clothes very beautiful. Now we would call that oversize, but we didn’t have that term. It was a very important thing for me, and the accessories were very important too, especially with the hat. Charlie Chaplin himself, his costume was so iconic: the little jacket and the huge pants — its simplicity speaks so much. I also loved the clothes of fishermen from the past, and work clothes. Pictures of workers during the 20s, and the 30s, and wartime — it’s so functional and so beautiful, the simplicity, and there’s nothing dumb to impress people.

Clothing is supposed to protect you, and of course, you can make it beautiful, but it’s utility essentially. I love seeing clothes used and used and used — I love seeing worn-out shoes, they have so much life, so many scars, and I think the Six, we all have this in common — we all love things with a soul, things that’ve lived, older clothing.

The way people used to sew by hand, the hidden spots in clothing, or why there was a seam, because it tells you something about the time, or the function it was being worn for. It also inspires wonder — clothing has that. It’s just a shell to wear, and it’s not difficult, and it’s superficial, but it makes it easier to put it down or on you, literally or figuratively.

That’s why creativity can go along so well with it — it has so much to offer. It’s also linked to a living person. It’s not a difficult field, in a way. It’s just fabric, and colour, and folding, and wearing, and moving. It’s wonderful.

Perfect self-expression.

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Thanks for reading!

Your support is greatly appreciated as I continue working towards growing this newsletter and slowly turning it into something bigger. The end goal is to turn this into a publication, featuring interviews with individuals within the fashion realm, covering collections and shows, etc. Maybe we can make it to fashion week - who knows.

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- Chris