Before We Start
If you’re new here, you can catch up on some recent work:
I Lost My Luggage Going to Men’s Fashion Week: Reporting from Paris — moving between showrooms, missed luggage, and conversations around slower fashion, locality, and material honesty.
I Think, Therefore I Tastemake: My thoughts on tastemaking, influence, and intention in modern content — exploring slow style, fatigue, and what’s to come
New Year, New (Kinda the Same) Me: A year-end reflection on growth, fear, and staying honest — along with the designers and pieces that caught my eye recently
Basic? (How Japanese brands get labelled “boring” or “expensive,” and the disconnect between passion, content, and algorithm-driven taste)
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Between tracking down pieces, speaking with designers, and writing these essays, this project takes more time than my weekly screen-time report would like to admit. Your support genuinely makes this possible.
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Day 2 Introduction
After a week of trying on nice clothes, meeting incredible people, and returning home to a cute, quaint little studio in Chinatown, it feels like reality came crashing back — hard.
I don’t think anyone had writing from a 3-star hotel due to a flight cancellation on their Duchump Fashion Week Bingo Card. It feels like I’ve lived a hundred lives over the span of one week, but despite the various blockers and issues that cropped up, we move forward — even if it means sleeping on top of my bedsheets tonight because I do not trust this hotel whatsoever. Oh, and I caught the flu.
There’s a hole in the ceiling of my shower. If that helps paint a clearer picture.
Back to fashion week. It’s always a pleasure seeing how many characters are out, patiently waiting for Phil Oh to photograph them for Vogue’s Street Style series. This was most evident during the Kartik Research presentation: half the room showed up to genuinely engage with the collection — press, designers, people with intent — while the other half were fully Demna-era Balenciaga’d out in order to, in my opinion, get flicked up for the likes.
That’s cool, and I could very well be wrong. What irks me most, though, is the ego behind the vanity fits (though we’re all vain in this industry, so joke’s on me). Unfortunately, to exist in this environment, you have to endure it — even if that means making small talk with someone who has zero interest in who you are, only what you are. It happened a few times, and while it may be part of growing in this industry, it starts to feel icky after a while — speaking to a facade rather than a real person.
Regardless, it’s genuinely been a pleasant experience being here, especially considering it’s only been a year and a half since I started writing this newsletter. I never expected to be attending shows like Kartik and ssstein, or receiving invitations to brands like Kiko Kostadinov, Post Archive Faction, and J.L.A.L.
My initial instinct with some of the latter was to skip them, or attend without diving too deeply here — they’re not always directly aligned with the brands we typically cover. But when it comes to offering coverage, I believe it’s important to offer range and expand our palette. Sticking to one lane dulls perspective. Sometimes you need to see a Kiko to better understand a Toward(s) (fka Outbreak Lab), for example.
All of this is to say, I will be writing honestly about each brand. As I said to Drew Joiner after bumping into him on the street — hungry, manic, and desperately craving a plate of steak au poivre — we need more critique and constructive criticism in fashion. Without it, menswear (and fashion at large) cannot grow or evolve.
Fashion journalism has grown incredibly soft, largely due to ad revenue and the fear of losing a seat at x, y, or z’s runway show. Major publications hand out gold stars like candy. You did great! Terrific collection! Even if it’s for something as incredibly underwhelming and dull as Hanover by Chris Black — awful.
This is why I don’t understand the constant disrespect Substack receives. It’s created space for honest writers to speak freely. I’m grateful to be attending presentations and showrooms this January, exchanging pleasantries with agencies and the people behind the scenes — but that won’t stop me from saying when something, or someone, misses.
We’re still small. We don’t have much to lose. And even if we did, I’d rather offer a genuine take than fall in line with the herd. Even if that means losing the access we’re slowly building up.
We need more critique — now more than ever.
With that in mind, I’ve split my Day 2 coverage into two parts. This post focuses solely on presentations, while Sunday’s post covers the Impossible Objects showroom.
Here was our itinerary:
Day 2 — Thursday, January 22nd
10:30-11:00AM — Heugn
Rescheduled after being told my luggage would arrive around this time. Again — as Maury would say, the lie detector determined that was a lie. We’re working out an interview soon.
12:00-12:15 — Jeong Li*
12:15-12:30 — Neithers*
12:30-12:45 — meanswhile*
12:45-1:00PM — Earth Studies*
2:00-2:30PM — Kartik Research (Presentation)
5:00-7:00PM — Vowels (Presentation)
*Impossible Objects showroom
Kartik Research — Presentation
First, I’d like to share how special a moment this was. While it may not seem like much to others, I feel incredibly lucky to have been invited to see Kartik Research this season. Visiting showrooms is a great way to connect with a designer and understand garments on an individual level — but presentations like this allow you to fully immerse yourself in the designer’s vision.
As Aaj Shanibar by Rupa blared through the speakers of a minimal yet tastefully decorated set, I walked to my seat to find a hardcover book titled Raag, laid neatly alongside show notes outlining Kartik Kumra’s vision for his AW26 collection. The imagery within the book is rich and aspirational, mirroring the inspiration behind the garments, while the accompanying notes reveal a far bleaker reality.
“The US administration’s decision to impose a fifty percent tariff on India a few months ago has rippled through the ecosystem in ways that are both abstract and brutally specific,” he writes. It’s a feeling echoed by other emerging designers from India — yet, despite the increasingly unstable times we’re living in, nothing seems capable of stopping artisans like Kartik from expressing a deep commitment to their craft.
“We need to build something back home with its own gravity,” the 25-year-old designer shares. “Something not permanently tethered to Western demand cycles, policy swings, or distant administrations. Something that pulls people in rather than constantly reaching out.” Whether he’s aware of it or not, Kumra has become a beacon for young Indian designers who continue to be overshadowed by Western media, governments, and policy structures. That responsibility now reads as confidence — subtle, assured, and increasingly present in his work.
That growing confidence was evident throughout the collection. Intricate embroidery appeared across tailored suits, silk jackets, and decorated jumpers, while select trousers featured gold sequinned designs that created a striking interplay of colour and texture on lightweight fabrics. A defining characteristic of Kumra’s work remains his approach to textiles — favouring breathable, lightweight materials while weaving in references to a rich cultural history that deserves far more recognition. As Ritwik of rkivecity shared during our conversation, “Indian men have always had style — just not loud style. It’s in our carpets, our curtains, our homes.”
On the subject of textiles, Kartik spoke about one particular individual’s work that resonated with him deeply during the development of AW26.
In 1975, without the intention of starting a fashion label, Ahmedabad-based designer Asha Sarabhai founded what would become the now-iconic brand Raag. Her aim was to bring Indian textiles to the forefront of design, pairing gender-neutral silhouettes with rich fabrics and traditional techniques. The brand went on to gain international recognition, with designers like Issey Miyake championing Sarabhai’s work. “The archive surfaced during my research this season, and it felt important,” Kumra explains. He treated it as a reminder of “what it looks like when a brand develops real spiritual gravity. Raag did not chase relevance — it became a center of orbit for a creative community because it was deeply itself.”
The parallels between Raag and Kartik Research feel increasingly clear with each passing season.
Several standouts emerged this season, including the return of a now-signature leather-collared, floral-embroidered workwear jacket — a piece that softens utilitarian structure through delicate handwork. Elsewhere, a darker palette of green and black came alive through surreal, vine-like embroidery that shifted with each step down the runway.
My personal favourite was an oversized knit featuring a classic Kartik-ism: scattered paisley embroidery. Paired with a lightweight striped shirt and embroidered trousers marked by stripes running down both the centre and sides, the look created a subtle, hypnotic sense of movement with each step. Relaxed in proportion — comfortable, yet absolutely runway-worthy.
There’s also a quiet humbleness present in Kartik’s notes. “The details are not begging to be photographed, but spiritually, the work is alive,” he writes — and he couldn’t be more right. While the craftsmanship is undeniably worthy of documentation, the work truly comes to life in motion. In certain pieces, it feels like a living, breathing organism, blurring the line between fashion and art.
It’s the kind of work that comes from an artisan who values time and honesty in the process — remaining true to their vision rather than bending to fit a specific style or expectation. As Kumra puts it, “It carries an energy that feels honest to its handcrafted nature — uncompromised, unhurried, unconcerned with scale.”
The styling deserves special attention as well. A relaxed, taupe workwear-inspired jacket is layered over floral embroidery that carries through both the trousers and the jacket beneath — a quiet but considered continuity. The mix of textures and colours is difficult to balance, yet Kartik handles it with ease: never forced, never excessive.
Another standout was the use of a beautifully rich red scarf — reminiscent of a traditional Indian saree, yet reimagined as a contemporary styling choice.
What we’re witnessing is the steady rise of a designer whose craft carries immense depth, while also becoming a leading voice for a country defined by its life, talent, culture, and deeply rooted ways of creating. “This season introduces pieces that sit closer to couture than anything we’ve done before,” Kumra notes — and it’s seen throughout the collection. Several looks, particularly the closing ensemble, could comfortably exist within a couture collection.
The growth in Kartik’s work becomes clearer with each season, and with it, his pull only grows stronger — drawing more people into his orbit.
One I’m grateful to be part of.
Vowels — Presentation
“When we live in a perpetual present stretched to encompass the totality of all experience, the present lacks durability.”
A line pulled from The Vowels Daily, the newspaper handed out at Vowels’ AW26 presentation, lingered with me. The show was held at the Perrotin Gallery on Rue de Turenne. The space itself felt intentional — a gallery that has previously hosted exhibitions by Takashi Murakami, Izumi Kato, and Lynn Chadwick, all artists whose work feels naturally adjacent to Vowels’ visual and conceptual language.
With that context in mind, the setting felt especially fitting for Yuki Yagi, the brand’s eccentric Creative Director, whose roots are firmly embedded in the art world. Yagi is a designer driven by research — the kind that obsesses over the smallest details of a style, an individual, or a single garment, using these references to create something entirely new.
For his latest collection, titled “Perfect Day”, Yagi turned to the guiding philosophy of Shu Ha Ri — a Japanese martial arts concept centered on mastering the fundamentals of a practice before deliberately breaking away from them to re-conceive the form. Shu represents protection and obedience to tradition, Ha, detachment and experimentation, and Ri, departure — the moment where rules dissolve entirely, giving way to something new. It’s a framework that mirrors Yagi’s own approach to his craft, one rooted in discipline, yet unafraid to loosen its grip.
This season, we saw Yagi pull references from the brand’s New York location (they’re also based in Tokyo) and Research Library, presenting a collection that blurs the line between timeless and whimsical. It’s a colourful collection, one built around moss greens, burgundies, and prominent blues. We also see a stronger emphasis on tailoring, including beautiful double-breasted suits — one of which looked incredibly sharp on a slick young man combing his hair in the most theatrical, yet ridiculously sleek way. It made me want hair again, to be honest.
The collection feels restrained yet playful. Knitted bombers and corduroy trucker jackets offer a fresh take on otherwise classic garments, while several graphic button-ups stand out — one of which reminded me of XJ-9 from My Life As a Teenage Robot, alongside a classic Vowels tee finished with blurred text.
It’s very much a brand that isn’t trying to be something it’s not, instead offering a considered selection of garments designed to get you from Point A to Point B.
Designed and manufactured in Japan, the collection is intended for ordinary days, presented through segmented vignettes staged across individual rooms. One vignette was dedicated to waiting at a bus stop, with models remaining in character as they waited for a bus that appeared stalled in traffic — perhaps? Another featured a group of people creating music and lounging, a scene that resembled everyday life at its most intimate — hanging with friends, enjoying quiet moments with the people you love most.
The other two vignettes included what resembled a listening room, similar to those popularized in Japan, with two DJs going back-to-back playing dub classics and setting an ambiance I naturally gravitated toward. The final vignette was distinctly New York City, showing a group of younger adults sitting in a park. One model was listening to Illmatic by Nas, dressed in a classic checkered trench coat, military-inspired trousers, over-the-ear headphones, and brown leather shoes. It felt like a perfect reflection of the everyday.
At the center of the display sat a sign that read, “Why are you so expensive, New York City?” — a sentiment New Yorkers have felt for years now. Unfortunately, it’s a reality that has led to an exodus of sorts for emerging talent, pushing many to present elsewhere, where value feels more attainable.
While flipping through The Vowels Daily, I came across Yuki Yagi’s training regimen — a tongue-in-cheek breakdown of how to prepare for the strenuous days of linking and building, and of running a global brand. I’ve shared it below:
Lift 10 books of various sizes and weights, placing them on and off a desk. Repeat until your arms feel like noodles.
Turn 300 pages of a book without tearing a single page.
Walk 10 miles while carrying extra garments for styling purposes.
Finally, it reads: “For faster results, perform the above after consuming 3–5 lemon sours, gradually increasing the amount as tolerance is built up.”
While the collection itself wasn’t the most memorable, nor does it have to be, but the world-building seen throughout the presentation — and within the newspaper itself — felt genuinely refreshing. Fashion can be used and expressed in countless ways, but storytelling remains an element many brands presenting in Paris still seem to overlook.
It’s nice to see some life being breathed back into fashion again. The real question, though, is how to sustain this momentum without letting it slip into gimmickry.
genuinely you couldn’t have picked two better brands to make me jealous i wasnt there to see them - so cool