Representing the creative future

Chloé Nardin: Fashioning cuteness in menswear

Mixing codes of sportswear and childlike elements, the work of the French designer is an intimate ode to men’s fashion

Chloé Nardin has a new logo. A bunny, the unique specimen of a crossbreed between Playboy’s cheeky rabbit and its folk tales ancestor, gently lies on the knitted pieces and the labels of her new collection. Beyond her fascination for merch and logos, the little animal introduces and distils her work and its graciously contrasting elements. Between menswear and womenswear, sportswear and creative design, Nardin has been able to develop her very own “lexicon of tenderness” and employ it to tell a contemporary story of French fashion. Two weeks after the launch of SS23 “Aurore”, we met with the young designer to discuss the unfolding of her brand since leaving Central Saint Martins and her opinions on the renowned degree. True to her idea of menswear fashion as a down-to-earth practice, Nardin candidly shares, among self-doubts and failed expectations, her personal way of having fun with her pragmatic designs.

It’s very hot today in London and judging from your tank top we are not that far from each other.

Yes, I’m in London at the moment. I’m based here, even though I come from near Paris. I have family in the South of France too, so I’m used to very hot summers.

“It is much easier to start a business in London [than in Paris], as factories are more used to dealing with smaller businesses and have more tolerance towards young designers.” – Chloé Nardin

How come you decided to stay in London after the MA? Paris might have been a valid alternative too, and very close to home.

I took that into account. At that time, Brexit had just happened and I was considering the idea of keeping a foot in the Schengen area and starting a company in France. But I didn’t do that for the simple reason that, as much as I feel at home there, I studied in London for my BA and MA. It’s where I developed myself as a designer and where I made friends and professional relationships. It is much easier to start a business here, as factories are more used to dealing with smaller businesses and have more tolerance towards young designers. Also, I’m dating a British guy, so I’m not going anywhere!

You said that you have relationships with factories here in the UK, but many materials and techniques you employ come from France.

Sourcing has become particularly difficult now. Especially considering that after Brexit, some of my suppliers from the south of France simply stopped delivering to the UK because they don’t know how to do that. And we all know about the clogging at the frontier. Mine is a small brand so I can still use the stuff my family sends me. I think that my link with France is mainly aesthetical and inspirational.

You often mention the idea of debunking “Parisian chic” clichés. Do you feel some kind of responsibility to tell a different story from that of French fashion? 

I think that, rather than me being French, it all comes from me not being Parisian. I grew up outside of Paris and I don’t care anymore about being an outsider. I just don’t understand this obsession with Parisian girl style, so I have my own idea of decentralising French fashion. Anyway, right now, we are all encouraged as creatives to look inwards, maybe a bit too much. Telling a story that is related to my origins comes quite naturally.

“When you do menswear, you work with existing archetypes, like jackets and trousers. There is no weird jersey magma that could be a dress.” – Chloé Nardin

In your past interviews, you’ve been describing your collections as “cute sportswear”, which I think it’s such a lovely way of defining your work, but there’s so much to unpack! Why did you decide to focus on menswear and how do you make it look softer and more feminine? 

The industry is still very segmented: if you have a collection and you want to sell it, you have to label it either as “menswear” or “womenswear”. Even when you try to stay in the middle, they will pick a side for you. And I think designing for men is a totally different practice from designing for women, more realistic and down-to-earth. When you do menswear, you work with existing archetypes, like jackets and trousers. There is no weird jersey magma that could be a dress.

I remember when during my BA I was doing womenswear and I was so unhappy with the final pieces. I thought they were very contemporary, like for a cool Instagram picture, but at the same time, I knew nobody would have worn them. I’ve always had this great care for reality and function and I didn’t really know what to do with it in womenswear. Then, during the MA I had an epiphany. I once imagined a guy wearing one of my outfits and I was like “wow, that works really well!” I started to picture all those looks worn by men, and that’s how I transitioned to menswear. I think that whenever you create something, you have to be aware that your inspiration and your creative emotional balance can shift so much. At first, I was a little scared because I thought this could be just a mood. But then it felt so good to the point I decided to build a brand around it.

This shift from an academic to a product-oriented mindset should be physiological, when leaving school. Do you think something has changed since opening your brand, or have you always been very aware of the importance of the product?

I thought I was! I remember thinking the collection was sellable. That’s why I always struggled during Central Saint Martins. What I’m doing now is what I’ve always wanted to do, while the MA is all about crazy stuff and creative development. And you can’t have that by making a piece that you will be able to industrialise.

“At CSM, you spend years doing unhinged, creative stuff that you really have to think through. It’s very intellectual; it’s not going to help you start your own business, but it balances out that freedom of creativity with a great dose of awareness.” – Chloé Nardin

And do you agree with this approach? If you were the one on the other side, would you praise the work of a student because or despite it being sellable?

I think each school is different. Central Saint Martins has a highly creative approach, so you come out with a designer degree, rather than a business or product developer one. In that sense, CSM is excellent: you spend years doing unhinged, creative stuff that you really have to think through. It’s very intellectual; it’s not going to help you start your own business, but it balances out that freedom of creativity with a great dose of awareness. While at Westminster, their technical abilities are so much better than ours. Maybe I should have gone there, but I wouldn’t have gone as deep as I went with CSM. Being in the real world now, I don’t see commerciality as something bad, plus I’m having a lot of fun.

“My brand is literally Petit Bateau but for grown-ups. That was hard work in terms of the cuts because it had to be tailored for men’s shoulders.” – Chloé Nardin

Your collections seem imbued with childhood nostalgia, from pieces like the nightcap to the materials and patterns you used. They remind me of the pyjamas by French brand Petit Bateau.  Do you remember wearing them as a kid?

It is literally Petit Bateau but for grown-ups. That was hard work in terms of the cuts because it had to be tailored for men’s shoulders. In my pieces, there are always some elements that contrast the masculine vibe affiliated with sportswear. It’s like creating a whole lexicon of tenderness and craftsmanship and observing the friction it creates when paired with sporty codes. Cuteness has always been a feature of my designs, but with menswear I feel like it’s crucial for what I want to say.  However, the idea that I might be trying to challenge the streetwear industry with my work, makes me uncomfortable. I think this industry is perfect as it is. This is more like a tribute to men than an attempt to feminise them.

After CSM, you immediately developed some pieces from your graduate collection “Parc des Princes” and you started your own brand. How did that happen? And how did you find the process of opening a business?

When I got out of CSM it was the year of lockdowns, so the online presence was boosted and we had a lot of visibility. Immediately after graduating, I decided to train for production. I took the most viable styles of the collection -like a tracksuit set, a pair shorts, shirt and some knitwear pieces- I set it up with factories, I made myself a website and did a pre-order gig. This was good training, but also a very hard one, especially with BRExit happening in those months. I might be able to wear many hats, but being an import/export expert and having to study customs laws was a little too much. I can tell retrospectively that I’ve been very ambitious with whatever my body and mind could take at once, especially considering I was working all the time. Now I’m freelancing, so it’s a little easier to take care of my business too.

“I literally got out of school and I thought somebody would help me, like: ‘You’re amazing! Can I pay for your rent?’ I think there might be some false hopes when it comes to young designers.” – Chloé Nardin

What do you do as a freelancer?  

Everything I can do. I do design, seamstressing, and whatever fits my schedule and pays me.

When you came out of CSM, do you think you were ready to launch a brand? 

I literally got out of school and I thought somebody would help me, like: “You’re amazing! Can I pay for your rent?” I think there might be some false hopes when it comes to young designers. The British system is very good, but the truth is that help comes to you when you can prove that you will be able to use it wisely. And when you finish school, you can’t prove anything. The narrative around talent being everything, and that if you’re good things will come to you, is very toxic.

I’ve noticed for FW 22 you haven’t come up with any collection. Do you feel, as a young designer, some pressure to produce in this fast-paced industry? What did you experience in this “gap year”?

I really wanted to come up with a collection for FW 22, and “Aurore” was actually in the making for that season, but then I found a job and I had to postpone it. I’m not obsessed with the fashion calendar and I never felt like it was imposed onto me by the industry. I’ve been in a company for six months and we worked on four collections. Nobody needs to produce, or to buy so much. On the other hand, if you’re presenting just once a year and you can make enough sales for you to survive, then good for you. For me that wouldn’t be possible from a creative point of view: I had been working on “Aurore” for ages and I was getting so impatient to launch it. I think we get inspired and get tired of things very quickly, but I personally don’t feel any haste.

“What has shifted in the industry is the idea that you don’t need a show anymore if you can’t afford it.” – Chloé Nardin

“Aurore” went live around two weeks ago, very close to the men’s fashion week. Do you think it is still relevant for a young designer to stick or get close to the calendar?

Yes, I think so. It depends on who you are, some houses don’t have to introduce themselves to anyone and have buyers buying all year long. While for others you have to catch them at the right time.

 Are you planning on showcasing?

Yes. I’ll be in a showroom in Paris during men’s fashion week. It will be exclusively for sales, while the collection has been presented with a digital release. What has shifted in the industry is the idea that you don’t need a show anymore if you can’t afford it. And that’s amazing because I did the release while at work. I published the collection on my website under my table, and within two minutes it was out. It has been so underwhelming. I loved it.

And talking about “Aurore”, in the collection notes, the development of the logo took a whole paragraph. What does it mean to you to have a logo? Do you think it is necessary to define a young brand’s identity? 

I’m so on the cusp between things, like menswear and womenswear, sportswear and creative fashion. I feel like I have to explain myself so much. For every collection, I’ve been doing these little introductions, but the fact is that I have to write in English and I think I suck at it. A logo for me is a way of introducing myself more clearly, setting the ground for what the project is about in a visual way and making the brand more identifiable, and memorable. Also, I love merch. You go to a place and you buy a t-shirt for the insignia. And I think the way we consume designer fashion is exactly the same in the end. That’s how logos work. So hopefully, one day my pieces will have some kind of merch value.