The cult of Caramel Palace: an irreverent art and design studio with radical intuition

Caramel Palace is… irreverent, intuitive, a subculture, a cult, a movement. Anyone who enters the Caramel Palace-sphere is automatically initiated and invited to be these things too. Although this art and design studio is hard to define, arguably mysterious, jubilantly intangible and irrevocably evolving, it is also concrete in its playful articulation and creative expression. This collective comprises of you (yes you, the reader), as much as the individuals behind the name: illustrator and graphic designer Tiffany Schouw, interdisciplinary artist Alexander Pankiv-Greene and business strategy director and marketing operator Jojo Keiper. These creatives have redefined what it means to hone a visual language, paired with unmatched merch quality in a South African context, through their blended palette, sharp observation, hard grind and indisputable style.

When asked about the Caramel Palace origin story, Alex, Tiffany and Jojo shared, “when we were in university, we lived in a digs called the ‘Caramel Palace’. We spent a lot of time together and thought we should start something named after the sanctuary we lived in. It became a vehicle for all the things we want to put out in the world eventually. Just coming up with the name out of nowhere is an ode to how Alex’s mind works. Not to mention we were all skinheads at the time, which was very culty.”

A subculture, being a variant of a broader socio-cultural group which develops a niche language and identity of its own, is exactly what Caramel Palace is; we ask how they express this unique language – is it artwork, music, clothing, objects, creative concepts? 

“It’s constantly evolving. It’s a creative concept at its core and manifests in a lot of ways. Clothing may be one articulation, ceramics another, or branding with artists like Stiff Pap. It’s quite intentional. The palate is punk-ish. When we’re looking at something that could be a collaborative opportunity we think ‘what would my 16-year-old-punk-little-shit self do with this?’ We did a collaboration with Shelflife where we made a porcelain sneaker – then we smashed it against the wall and said ‘it’s finished!’.

MALL GOTH photographed by Johno Mellish

Imagery courtesy of Caramel Palace

That kind of rebellious magic is something we find so refreshing. The nature of Caramel Palace is not disrespectful, quite the opposite, they are simultaneously creating with consciousness yet not taking themselves or the work too seriously. By doing exactly what they want, they’ve garnered respect from those that follow the brand. It’s the extreme attention to detail, like hand painting each artwork in the collaboration with Jade Paton, that makes the contrast to commercialised ‘copy-paste’ designs so stark. It’s this specificity that makes one’s head turn when it can often feel like we’re drowning in content oversaturation. 

We ask them to elaborate on their ability to be attune with subcultures and they shared:

“In this internet age where trends fluctuate quickly because everyone’s in the same algorithm, we’re actually trying to figure out what a subculture is and how to tune into it. Whether that’s going to the library, finding older references in strange places, then taking those subcultures and creating something new – that still feels familiar – reminding you of memory, place, feeling.”

Visually, Caramel Palace is layered with intertextual references: nostalgia, archive, repetition of motifs, illustrations, woven together with nuance. Similar to a piece of music with instrumental layers working in harmony, crescendoing to the climax. One of the ways to interpret Caramel Palace is recognising the late 90s, early 2000s references – suddenly, almost automatically, something like ‘The Prodigy’ starts playing in your head. 

We ask the team what role music plays for them creatively?

As a musician himself, Alex shares, “Music is really the key to this. It’s been a while since we’ve lived in a digs together, we’re doing things in our own capacity, but there’s a world created just listening to music – which suits a kind of carefree lifestyle. You can listen to a song and create a world in your own mind. You can look at a Caramel Palace logo Tee and sure, it’s just a white t-shirt with a logo on it but how do you actually build a world around that? How do we make the iPhone of T-shirts? It takes time to get the material and shape of the T-shirt right before you even think of what’s going on it. That’s a side that people don’t see of Caramel Palace but that’s the key.

Sometimes you’ll hear a piece of music and it’ll make you laugh, not because it’s funny but because you’re enjoying it so much. There’s something that makes you giggle, not because it’s humorous. We want to evoke a similar feeling with Caramel Palace, in that you laugh because you recognise it in a new context.”

MALLGOTH photographed by Johno Mellish

Caramel Palace collaboration with Jade Paton at OnePark

Their latest collection, photographed by Johno Mellish, offers a visually pleasurable euphoric nostalgia of our youth years. We ask Caramel Palace to tell us a bit about this launch (which is now available on their newly revamped Caramel Palace website) after their two-year clothing hiatus:   

“Our current collection, Mall Goth, is an ode to everyone’s teenage Blue Route Mall or Cavendish era. We shot the whole thing at Canal Walk on pay day for extra Mall Goth vibes. We also wanted to use unusual looking models, people who you wouldn’t ordinarily see or who aren’t models by profession. We’re creating a space for people who are interested in slightly strange things. And then we ended up becoming good friends with the people we shot with.”

They’ve developed such a distinct Caramel Palace style and brand personality. We ask where their style comes from, both as individuals and as a collective? To which each of them respond:

“Everything we learnt from fashion we learnt from music first and that’s how we all connected initially. Alex is an incredible musician. We’d chill and make music all day which is how we connected creatively. That then leads into artworks, design, concepts – we flex that creative muscle in different ways. 

I’m obsessed with ideas. I used to DJ a lot but I’m interested in the arts and the intersection of arts and brand building. A lot of what we do at Caramel Palace is world-building. It’s a thought-experiment: asking ourselves, does doing the opposite of what’s expected create a better and more desired effect? How punk-ish and weird can we make it, how far can we push it? Besides that I do a lot of the production and nitty-gritty stuff.” – Jojo

“Spending a lot of time together in the garden in the sun sharing ideas, bringing our individual expertise and meshing them together in a crazy, weird, beautiful “I don’t know what this is but it’s nice and it feels good’ way. I’m an illustrator and designer. I work for an agency actually, and no one really knows that. No one knows I’m part of Caramel Palace either and I kind of enjoy it being that way.” – Tiffany

In response to Alex’s comment that Tiffany is a true world-builder, she shares, “I am. It’s kind of strange, I used to work for this terrible company when I first started out and spent a lot of time in my own head, imagining another reality. That’s how I found my illustration style and figured out what I needed to be doing in the world: creating outside of that job. Even though it was a hard time in my life, it needed to happen. Then I became really passionate about building worlds. We’re all kind of weird and strange and to build that world and invite other strange people into that – even casting models and becoming friends with them, they become part of Caramel Palace and always will be.” 

 

  

Imagery courtesy of Caramel Palace

Caramel Palace exclusive playlist

There’s often an element of escapism in world-building, disassociating from your current context to picture an alternative way of life, even if it’s just visually on paper. In a way it’s an act of rebellion, but also a survival tactic as a creative – you have to imagine the world you want to live in and do your best to create that with the resources you have. On that thought, we’re prompted to ask whether there’s something missing in South Africa’s cultural or creative landscape that Caramel Palace wants to fill? 

Alex responds to this question with more questions: “How do you do something seriously high quality without such a sense of seriousness? How do you create something fun and silly, that your 16-year-old self can be proud of but that can still compete with high quality garments?” 

Jojo adds, “For us it was about capturing early 2000 hip-hop parties and rave culture, all combined to create something quite punk but quite goofy. It’s self-aware and it’s ironic. I don’t think something necessarily exists in the post-modern sense of that: self-reflective, funny, weird. Lots of clothing brands are extremely beautiful, like Wanda Lephoto. But creating something ironic and weird while simultaneously trying to output on a similar echelon of quality can be a difficult balance. But again, we want to push a concept. It’s not just clothing. I’m interested in taking really weird categories that Caramel Palace shouldn’t enter, enter them and reinvent them.” 

Tiffany chimes in, “Like ‘Caramel Palace Panel Beaters’”.

There is something to be said about the intangibility of nostalgia, a memory – arguably the best part of this feeling is that you don’t have to live through it again, you’re just reminded of a past life that rears its head into reality for a fleeting moment. The pop-up experience at Ghost was an iconic example of Caramel Palace’s personal fetish to do a lot of work on one project, only for it to exist in the world for 24 hours. It’s a nod to fleeting moments in time but also speaks to the adrenaline of impermanence. On their obsession with impermanence, Jojo shares, “We’ve all seen each other at our lowest, getting the final project done. I think it’s a trend of ours, wanting to go above and beyond and then there’s a spiritual cleanse right after. Same with the Jade Paton pop-up. It didn’t last for long and then it’s gone.”

When asked how these experiential pop-ups come about, what collaborative elements make them happen, they collectively reply:

“Chaos. Having ideas at a million miles and hour, then we get there and have 1000 more ideas. At this point it’s super late and we’re running out of time but we’re painting by hand on the walls at midnight. We’re always on ladders for some reason. ‘Let’s paint the ceiling as well!’ Tiffany’s on a ladder and is like “OMG do you remember when you’re 13 and you’d get those text messages in a weird shape and they’re telling you to send the message on to 100 other people otherwise you’ll get cursed– we’ve got to keep that in mind and make some anti-curse mechanisms.’” 

Now that they’ve launched their new website and latest capsule, it feels like they could do anything, which is why we ask what they want to be doing? Perhaps they’ve just done it? [At this point, Alex, who’s sitting outside a church in the Netherlands gets shouted at for being there, ironically the background of his video call displays a virtual yellow church. Again, very Caramel Palace.]

To end off, we pivot and ask, if Caramel Palace had a theme song, what would it be? 

Alex:Confusion Pump Panel Reconstruction Mix by New Order, the Blade opening song theme tune”. 

Jojo: “What we are listening to at the moment is Lapdance by NERD because that’s what’s playing in my mind 90% of the time”. 

 

In an almost too-perfect conclusion, leaving us wanting more while paying respect to music, they suggested they’d make us a playlist (the way they have in the past with OtherRadio Mixes on MixCloud). And that’s exactly what they did. 

 

Listen to Caramel Palace’s curated playlist here.

Visit the Caramel Palace website and shop their new collection here.

Follow Caramel Palace here

  

Written by: Grace Crooks

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

Treading The Thin Line Between Art & Commerce: The Creative Evolution of ZuluMecca

The internet has this intrinsic way of warping reality. By the time we have grandchildren, X (formerly Twitter) will evolve into another social media app, and my future grandkids will ask, “Mkhulu, what’s X?” I will gladly reply “The app where Mkhulu first discovered ZuluMecca!” When they ask who ZuluMecca is, I will narrate the story of how in 2020, I discovered Durban-born, Johannesburg-based Mandisa Nduna, who introduced the globe to her musical conduit, ZuluMecca at a delicate time where we could not legally escape to our vices and were compelled to look inward for stillness and healing amidst the chaotic struggle of a pandemic. 

The multifaceted creative, who is an award-winning actor, performer, songwriter, South African Hip-Hop Award-nominated musician, began taking the nation by storm in her teens; when rappers such as Eminem, Tupac, Missy Elliot, and Busta Rhymes fueled her affinity for fables, creating characters and storytelling. Mecca started off her creative endeavours as a slam poet and took to different competitions around Durban. It was at one of these competitions that she met a rapper named Emphasis, who after seeing her perform, suggested she try rapping herself. Under his tutelage, Mecca learned what a bar is, how to count bars, how to craft a verse and the essence of the art of rap.

Under the impression that the only subject matter she was allowed to sink into as a rapper was the facade of materialism and women, she spent the latter part of her late teens and early 20s finding her feet, honing her craft and delivering at the time, the fantastical tales and character plays in her quest for recognition. Once undergoing a spiritual journey and accepting a calling from her ancestors, she could no longer write from the fabled perspective of her past fantastical tales and was faced with owning her truth. This is where ZuluMecca was born, and she placed her first digital footprint on the internet, drawing an inferno of social media presence for her intricate verses rooted in philosophy and her ongoing spiritual transformation.

When first coming across Mecca, I like everyone else during lockdown, was doom scrolling and trying to make sense of a “new normal”. It was around this time that she had her moment of breaking the internet with her enthralling #FreestyleFriday submission for the lockdown freestyle series heralded by Hip-Hop legend Stogie T. This track later became an original song (“Of Hue”) on her debut EP “Of Angels and Ancestors.” Mecca swept us off her feet with her thought-provoking pen, always nudging her audience to seek within.

Once she started bubbling under the radar of Hip-Hop purists, she released “Of Angels and Ancestors” followed by an enthralling number of singles, namely “Holy Water (Mama’s Prayer),” “Food and Liquor (feat Stogie T),” and “Good God’s Freestyle” before being announced as the latest signee to avant-garde artist-centric record label STAYLOW. 

Following great success with the label and a series of releases, Mecca resists the notion of being boxed into the boom-bap aesthetic we have come to know and love her for and continues to establish a narrative that solidifies her as a musician and coveted songwriter. We find ourselves at the helm of her new EP, “SEAMS,” which takes us away from the lyrical philosopher and invites us into the complex humanity of the Mandisa clothed in Mecca’s skin. Coloured by surprising melodic cadences, uptempo frequencies and soulful cuts, the entirety of this EP has brought us closer into knowing Mecca as a person while striking the perfect chord of being commercially viable without compromising on artistic integrity. With an unyielding curiosity, I took the time to compare and contrast her catalogue and converse with Mecca about her origin story, artistic evolution, discourse towards craftsmanship, finding a balance between art and commerce and more. 

 

Photography by Children of Midas

It is often said that it can take 10 years to become an overnight success, and I’d like to start our conversation by defining that. Take me through your upbringing, your clutch collective days and all the events that led up to your calling both in acting and the birth of ZuluMecca?

ZuluMecca: “What a journey it’s been! I’ve always loved words, writing, and storytelling. To be honest, as a child, I used to lie a lot and make up fantastical stories. This was particularly true about my absent father – I let my imagination run wild, inventing various personas for him. Looking back, I realise this was the beginning of my storytelling journey.

As I became a teenager, I discovered Hip-Hop and other storytellers. I was captivated and thought, ‘I want to do that!’ I began with slam poetry, participating in and winning competitions around Durban and at UKZN. At one of these events, a rapper named Emphasis approached me and suggested I try rapping. He taught me the technical aspects and kick started my journey to mastering the art of rap.

My first studio experience came at 19 and went through the motions of discovering my artistic voice. This continued for about eight or nine years until 2019-2020. During this period, I embarked on a personal spiritual journey that made it difficult for me to lie in my personal life. Consequently, I couldn’t lie in my music anymore – I had to use it to tell the truth – my truth. 

In 2020, I created an EP, “Of Angels and Ancestors”, in my bedroom studio, mixing and mastering it myself. Though the sound quality wasn’t great, people focused on the words and were moved by what I was saying. This surprised me – I didn’t think anyone would be interested in these introspective thoughts. That’s when I met Vaughn and Shooter, and as they say, the rest is history.”

The SEAMS EP represents your songwriting evolution, where your artistic development  took you out of being “boxed” as a lyricist only. Do you pride yourself on being an unrestricted songwriter now?

ZuluMecca: “There are different layers to consider. One is the pursuit of profit, This means creating more performable music that can be shared with diverse audiences. If I made only the music I personally wanted to make, I might struggle to earn, tour, perform, and get booked. It’s a balance between staying true to myself as an artist and writer while creating music that a wider audience can embrace and enjoy. I want people to be moved by my music, not just impressed. 

Another layer is the variety of music within me. I’m not limited to one style – I have an “End of The World” vibe that’s neither singing nor rapping but a kind of melodic storytelling. I also have a playful side, which you hear in songs like ‘Right Back,’ where I can get a little goofy. I enjoy that kind of music, too, and want to express myself in various ways.

Initially, I had reservations about some of these diverse songs. When Vaughn suggested putting ‘Right Back’ on the EP, I questioned whether it sounded like ZuluMecca. But that’s exactly the point – we have the power to define who ZuluMecca is. It’s not too late. The conversations with my team were about breaking out of that mindset quickly before others box me in, too. It’s harder to break out of a box the more music you have out there. I feel I’m at a good point now. I’ve established that I can really rap, but now I can start introducing other parts of my artistry and heart.”

Watch “Seams” Visualizer Here

Ever since you released “FABLE”, you’ve been on a quest to balance art and commerce, and you strike that chord perfectly with SEAMS. How challenging was it to create out of your niche pocket? Was it intentional for you to gain new fans?

ZuluMecca: “It’s definitely intentional. I create music for as many people as possible to enjoy, recognising that there are different types of listeners out there. My goal is to serve a wide audience without compromising who I am as a writer.

I was getting comments like, ‘When I listen to ZuluMecca, I need a thesaurus and a dictionary.’ That made me reflect – I don’t want my music to be difficult for people to access. The year I took off really put things into perspective. I realised I could either make another ‘Of Angels and Ancestors,’ ‘Wept,’ or ‘Fable,’ or I could give more people a chance to enjoy who I am as an artist.

I even addressed this shift in my lyrics. In ‘Do You Get Bitches,’ I said, ‘My original fans just won’t understand / But fuck it, we’ll be on the map.’ That was my way of putting out a disclaimer early on. I wanted to prepare my audience for the different types of music they might start hearing from me.

This approach allows me to reach a broader audience while still maintaining my artistic integrity. It’s about striking a balance between accessibility and staying true to my craft. I’m exploring new territories in my music, and I’ve been upfront about this evolution with my fans. They shouldn’t be surprised when they hear these different styles – I told them it was coming.”

As a sonic bedrock, SEAMS challenges the normal sonic aesthetic you have been associated with. How challenging was the beat selection process for making the music we’re enjoying?

ZuluMecca: “It was crucial for me to express myself on different types of beats. While having a signature sound is fine, I’d rather my signature be the quality of my writing than the type of beats I use. I want to be versatile enough to jump on any beat and still maintain my identity.

The EP format allowed me to experiment with various sounds without the pressure of a full album. For instance, ‘Right Back’ with Hannah Ray came from a studio session where we made two songs. We were trying to meet each other halfway, given our different styles. This process of stepping outside myself and collaborating with artists who aren’t necessarily rappers or lyricists like me was important. The same goes for working with Marcus Harvey – I had to meet him where he is artistically because he has a strong sense of his identity, and I needed to match that certainty.

The title ‘SEAMS’ also reflects this process. It’s about unravelling what I thought was together and seeing what I’m made of, quite literally. It’s an exploration of my artistic components and how they come together in new ways.”

Watch “Right Back” Visualizer Here

Photography by Children of Midas

Between “Head Over Healing” from “FABLE”, not to mention “End of The World” and “Leave” from “SEAMS”, you have a complicated history with love. What seems to be the underlying factor that prevents you from having a smooth-sailing relationship? Do you revel in the musings of heartbreak? 

ZuluMecca: “My music reflects my long and complicated history with ex-partners, even though I’m in a different place now. I often write in retrospect, telling stories from my past experiences. To be honest, I don’t really enjoy creating happy love songs. While I enjoy love and being happy in my personal life, when it comes to music, it’s challenging to write about these feelings without sounding corny. That’s why I haven’t written much in this vein, even though I’ve felt those emotions. I’m trying to reach a point where I can write about love without finding it cringeworthy, but it’s a process.

In my quest to write more positive music, I will eventually write that love song. But it needs to be done in such a clever way that I don’t feel weird or uncomfortable about it. I’m not sure if it’ll make it onto the upcoming album, but it would be nice if it did. Either way, I’m determined to find that ‘love song Mecca’ one day. It’s a goal I’m working towards in my artistic development.”

You are also an award-winning actor who has acted in films and series such as Blood Psalms, Miseducation, and Stillborn. How do you differentiate between being on set and being in the studio? What are some of the preparation rituals that get you in character? 

ZuluMecca: “My background in acting actually makes it easier for me. I’ve studied and practised acting since I was very young, performing on stage, taking drama in high school, and even earning a degree in drama and performance studies. This formal education has given me a solid foundation in both the theory and practical aspects of acting.

When you study acting, you learn specific rituals to get into and out of character. One of the first things we’re taught is not to take the character home with you. This training helps me navigate the acting process more smoothly.

Rapping, on the other hand, is more challenging for me. In acting, someone else brings me the story and the words, and my job is to bring them to life. But with rap, I’m responsible for the entire creative process. I’m setting the scene, creating the location, developing the characters, and voicing them. The whole story is up to me when it comes to rap.

ZuluMecca is also a character in a way, so it’s like stepping into a different superhero costume. I have to completely step out of my acting role before I can step back into who ZuluMecca is. I can’t wear both costumes at the same time – it’s a process of fully embracing one role before transitioning to the other.”

 

Thank you for joining us for this interview. Before you go, could you let us know what more we can expect from SEAMS and your creative career as a whole? 

ZuluMecca: “There’s a lot happening this year. On the music front, the visualizers for SEAMS are dropping on YouTube soon. I’ve also been working on several collaborations. I started the year with a Priddy Ugly collaboration and just released a cool feature with Originelle. There are more features coming up with some really great artists outside of my usual circle. I’m also featured on some exciting tracks that will be released this year.

Of course, the big news is my debut album. We’re working hard on that, and it should be really beautiful when it’s finished. As for my acting career, I’m currently shooting a show for Showmax called “Empini”. You’ll be able to catch me in that soon. There are quite a few other interesting projects in the pipeline, but due to NDAs, I can’t disclose all the details just yet. Stay tuned, though – there’s a lot more coming soon!”

It goes without saying that one of the thinnest lines any artist can walk is balancing the dreaded scale of art and commerce. It is somewhat daunting that after decades spent honing the ability to bend words to one’s will, one still has to bend themselves to the standard the creative industry deems mainstream when expression shouldn’t ideally be commodified. The silver lining I find is in the creative challenge of pushing the needle with one’s craft, and ZuluMecca is well on her way to being a mastermind who figures out the Matrix and bends reality to her will. It seems to me that we have an era-defining virtuoso who prides herself on being one of a generation; I am eager to witness her shift the culture with her Pulitzer-worthy pen.

 

Connect With ZuluMecca:

X : @ZuluMecca

Instagram: @zulumecca

Facebook: @ZuluMecca

Tik Tok: @ZuluMecca

YouTube: @ZuluMecca

 

Written by: Cedric Dladla 

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

Kenza has dropped a new single titled “Unozala”

Kenza, a talented up-and-coming producer and DJ has dropped a new single titled “Unozala”, featuring the vocals of renowned South African artists Msaki and Ami Faku, and produced under the guidance of mentor Sun-El Musician.

“Unozala” is a captivating and soulful collaboration, a track that delves deep into themes of emotional introspection, urging a sense of calm and personal healing. 

The lyrics beckon listeners to embrace serenity and time’s healing touch, while the chorus’s poignant repetition of “Ndithathekile” evokes a deep, unexplainable bond, vividly portraying love and yearning. Interwoven with a touching conversation with a mother, the narrative showcases the profound impact of new relationships and their transformative power.

With a signature style that shines in blending rich, melodic soundscapes with heartfelt rhythms, further elevated by electronic sophistication, creating a unique musical experience that blends contemporary flair with traditional African roots.

It stands out as a track that delves into the intricate layers of love and emotional depth, poised to resonate deeply with its audience. Regardless of your musical taste, be it soulful ballads or groundbreaking production, this song promises a captivating and immersive journey through its rich soundscapes.

 

Kenza’s talent caught the attention of South African musician and businessman Sun-EL Musician in 2019, leading to his recognition in the music industry. He began his journey as an emerging artist, debuting alongside Claudio as part of the duo Claudio & Kenza, and expanded his influence through collaborations with artists like Simmy and Mthunzi.

Transitioning into a solo artist, Kenza collaborated with Ami Faku on his debut single, “Sihlobo Sami”, in 2021, followed by his debut EP “Fly Away,” and has since worked with notable artists such as Sun-EL Musician, Black Coffee, Msaki, and Zolani Mahola, earning a SAMA award for his contributions to her project.

Listen to “Unozala” Here

Press release courtesy of Sheila Afari 

DJ Linus launches the re-release of his 2001 EP ‘The Underground / U-Bahn’

The rare DJ Linus EP from 2001 with 4 crunchy tech tracks is back for its re-release this July. The old vinyl release of ‘The Underground / U-Bahn’ was strictly limited and was released under the mysterious artist name The Underground, but it was DJ Linus himself, who produced it. Worth the wait for this rarity re-release, which fits perfectly to the currently happening house sound.

DJ Linus released his first records on Compose, the 90s subsidiary house label of Compost. DJ Linus is one of the first House DJs in Munich and in Germany.
He started way back-end of the 80s, early 90s. Linus is said to be a great influence to many famous Tech House DJs today. His solo album “Fantasmagorique“ was the first German House Music long player of its kind.

 


Listen to DJ Linus re-release Here

Press release courtesy of Good Times Co

Midnight Riot Records presents ‘Balearic Headspace Volume 7’

Midnight Riot Records presents ‘Balearic Headspace Volume 7’, fully embracing the open-minded musical spirit and showcasing a wide array of sounds.

This compilation features magical contributions from all corners of the Balearic world, including Fuga Ronto’s ‘Greatest Treasure’, FSQ and Tom Moulton’s sunshine reggae jam ‘This Is Caribbean Disco’, and ultra-yacht rock dub from Chas Bronz & Pery Whitelee.

David Dingess offers spaced-out boogie (Toni Rossano edit), whilst rounding off the soiree is Japanese duo Cruisic delivers a chugging remake of Todd Terje’s masterpiece ‘Inspector Norse’.

The full compilation album features more white island magic from Jaegerossa, Danny Kane feat Jack Tyson Charles, Dominic Dawson, Sweetooth, Thorgan Woolf, Ziggy Phunk, Vapor Caves and more…

 

Listen to ‘Balearic Headspace Volume 7’ Here

Press Release courtesy of Only Good Stuff

‘Time Goes Bye Bye’: An experiential time-based exploration of the way we view art

“Going to art galleries these days is equivalent to the endless social media scroll”, Gaelen Pinnock shared with Sune van Tonder in a post-exhibition haze. He was one of the exhibiting artists showing work at ‘Time Goes Bye’, and his sentiments are something to be considered. At any normal gallery event, you walk past rows of art on blank walls, eat a few canapes, greet the regular art show-goers, and seem to forget most of what you saw in the car ride home. ‘Time Goes Bye’ has spared us from yet another night of endless scrolling and thrust us into the business of experience. 

Co-curated and ideated by Claire Johnson and Max Melvill, ‘Time Goes Bye’ was a two-part, time-based art exhibition that challenged and excited viewers. Held at The Ramp, a Cape Town art collective praised for its foray into the experimental, the show took place over a warmer-than-usual winter weekend and sought to provide both an engaged and engaging platform for  artists and their work. Part 1 of ‘Time Goes Bye’ showcased 24 artworks, theatrically displayed in 10-minute increments. Part 2 included a salon hang of all the works and an in-depth panel discussion led by Claire, artist and founder of creative studio, Hoick. The artist line-up was released prior to the event allowing audiences to choose which artists they wanted to see. Max, co-founder of The Ramp and disruptor of the norm, ideated: “We were wondering what would happen if an art show were structured like a music festival — what would that look like in practice? Would people be more precious about attending in case they missed their favourite artist? Would they be more engaged with the work?” 

With these hypotheses in mind, the stage was set. People entered to the electric, hypnotic, neo-indigenous sounds of Kamil Adam Hassim’s 5th generation Sutra. In the silence, muffled between sounds of distortion, a bell rang to beckon the end of the performance. Act 2: Lynchian blue-velvet curtains swung open, revealing the work of artist Leila Abrahams: Strands of Time. 10 minutes later, another bell unveiling Act 3 and so the dance continued. From Maja Marx’s arresting painting ‘Last Page First’ that explores the stickiness of time, to utilitarian furniture as art in Lebo Kekana x NISH’s ‘Protoscape’, the works were all underscored by the fleeting, inescapable, looming concept of time.

Photography by Sune van Tonder
 
 

Aside from the excitement of a curtain reveal, something effervescent and existential took place in the densely packed room. Viewing the art in 10-minute increments came with a sense of finality, a yearning to consume as much as possible before the works inevitably took their final curtain call. Not only that, but at the end of the day, pockets of people sat recalling the individual works and their stories, finding themselves richer for the experience. No longer plagued by the goldfish memory that most of us have become so used to. People discussed, connected, cajoled — they remembered.

One of the standout moments of the show transpired when painter Michael Beckurts took to the stage. Kneeling on his automated wheelchair, he spoke to the audience for the first time about his experience of disability and how it influences his work. He invited the audience to try life through his lens, if only for a moment, by viewing his piece while kneeling. One by one, viewers dropped to their knees, finding themselves looking up at the art, instead of straight at it. A stillness took over the space as people were challenged, not only to see the art from a different perspective, but to confront their own perspectives. 

Photography by Sune van Tonder
 
 

‘Time Goes Bye’ called not only for commitment, but also flexibility. Part 1 encouraged audiences to engage with the art and Part 2 made viewers think about the curation. The panel discussion featured three of the artists in the previous day’s lineup, aptly exploring the notion of time. With this in mind, the conversation kept returning to the idea of archiving. Academic, and now artist, Carrol Clarkson quoting Jacques Derrida’s ‘Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression’ spoke of “archiving as a way to create a possible future”. Photographer Manyasta Monyamane emphasised the importance of collaboration and community in the process of archiving. Zayaan Khan, an artist exploring the history of District Six through clay, imbibed the audience with the need to understand one’s origins, reminding listeners that “the soil we walk on now is the same soil our ancestors walked on, but it is also the same soil our mothers walked on.” It became clear that, in considering the effect of time in art and space, the need to document and remember is tantamount to creation itself. 

‘Time Goes Bye’ offered more than a different way to view art. It offered a new framework to be implemented in future openings and exhibitions. It started a conversation that the art world has been yearning for — a break away from the norm and an attempt to recenter art. The show ended with a room filled long after the end of the event, bubbling with discussions about phenomenology and ephemeral epistemologies, and an audience struggling to say “bye bye”. 

  

Written by Sune van Tonder

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

The Promise Of Streetwear with S.W.A.N.K Founder Lindelani Nedoboni

2013 was a turning point for streetwear. Previously, the movement was confined to subcultural corners – most notably, hip hop and skateboarding scenes – and with the onset of 2013, Supreme was about to go even more stratospheric than in the late 2000s, along with Palace and the resurgence of Stüssy, to name a few. It’s strange to cast our memories back to this time and realise that streetwear technically hadn’t hit the mainstream; but it was about to unseat even the cult of luxury fashion as the single biggest sector of growth in apparel and culture. In Joburg, in 2013, creative visionary Lindelani Nedoboni was cooking up his own storm, too. 

Drawn from his deeply abiding love for streetwear, Lindelani’s S.W.A.N.K was conceived as his personal footnote, from Jozi and his community, to what he could see as this growing movement. I think it has to be noted that S.W.A.N.K is an OG incarnation of the South African possibilities of streetwear – and to Lindelani and his community, much is owed in the expression of streetwear as we understand it today, in our country’s context.  

Their accolades are many and counting. In November 2021, S.W.A.N.K unveiled their exclusive store at 70 Juta Street in Braamfontein, placing themselves at the epicentre of Jozi’s scene. By April 2023, they expanded their reach by featuring their merchandise in ARCHIVE storefronts across South Africa. With five delivery drops to date and regular DIY ‘Data It Yourself’ sessions at their pop-ups and warehouse sales, S.W.A.N.K has cemented their presence. They’ve launched their own fantasy football jersey, rendered garments in Augmented Reality, hosted sound sessions, and incorporated the street art identity of ‘Who is TAPZ’ into their designs, showcasing their commitment to innovation and cultural relevance.

To celebrate their anniversary, the brand released an incredible film made in collaboration with director Koketso Matabane, charting some of S.W.A.N.K’s lore, distilling the most crucial aspect of the brand’s legacy: community. Now, the brand has launched WORKSHOP* – the revamp of their store, with a new vision for brick and mortar retail – as a place to ‘work, shop and create’. As their press release for the film ‘S.W.A.N.K IS HUGE’ states, “S.W.A.N.K ‘s 10 year anniversary is not something we take lightly. The weeks, months and years of planning, designing, curating drops, perfecting samples and pieces that are yet to be shown, at times, causes creative overdrive. To handle the success S.W.A.N.K has accumulated over the years goes hand in hand with developing the ability to bear the strain of this responsibility – it goes without saying, heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Director & Writer: @bongiekokie

Producer: @thandeka_mahuma

DOP: @joshlevi.za

1st AD: Kgabiso Van Wyk

Focus Puller: Mari Schultz

DIT / VT: Nhlakanipho Nhlapo

Grips & Gaffer: Thapelo Mvubu & Lesego Letsoalo

Art Director: @whereareyoutalent

Wardrobe Stylist: @bohemian_______

MUA: @monlouw

Photography Team: @king_henry_iiv

MemoPA’s: @directedbydan @___xpest

Catering: Joy Mhlongo

POST PRODUCTION Facility: @postmodernstudios

Editor: @lovewillmono

Colour Grade: @stroobzz

Music: @tigerfightmusic

Tuning in from the entirely monochromatic crimson walls of WORKSHOP* (truly iconic, design-wise), this conversation with Lindelani is reflective of the endurance that is required to bring an idea towards a full decade of existence. On the origin of the brand, all the way back in 2013, Lindelani explains that “In high school, I was driven to create something like S.W.A.N.K – it’s even referenced in the film, where you see the young guy riding out selling caps from his sports bag. That’s a biographical reference, and how it started. The whole idea for us was to create something that at the time, we didn’t think existed. We wanted to see streetwear with a local touch, a local story and a sense of community – while being inspired by the global approach and output at the time. That really informed the inception of SWANK. I think that image of the hustling teenager selling SWANK still encapsulates the spirit of the brand.”

Back then, Instagram was starting to rear its head in a big way, but it wasn’t the single biggest driver for a brand’s presence as it is today. As Lindelani notes, “social media wasn’t really a thing yet, at least not in the way that was back in 2013. We have always operated in real time, even with social media coming through the way it has today. I was pushed to start my own brand after a conversation with a friend, off the back of me selling branded items out of my bag,” and that, “suddenly, the opportunity presented itself to create something that was completely our own. It’s named after my nickname, ‘Swank’, and it’s always been a very instinct driven thing. Even though we moved with the least capacity and resources, we were driven by the highest energy.”

A central inspiration for S.W.A.N.K is the nature of DIY and modification in South Africa, in an education system that is almost entirely reliant on uniforms. For Lindelani, those earliest years selling branded pieces from his backpack were part of his fascination for how kids adapt to reflect themselves in a context that demands sameness, or dullness. Lindelani is quick to make reference to this spirit, “even a decade ago, streetwear was still a ‘concept’ compared to how it is today. The world has kind of figured it out, but ten years ago – it was really an experiment. The reason streetwear was bigger overseas – apart from the scaling and resources – I think is because schools have civvies, and they don’t have the same uniform culture here. So, when I think of S.W.A.N.K, our foundation came from the spirit and energy of school kids here buying bucket hats to wear after school, or choosing grey socks they could get away with, that signalled something about what they wanted to say.”

I asked Lindelani for his cultural references back in 2013, to which he says that “Pharrell and Nigo definitely shaped streetwear in the 2000s, but the way we consume media is completely different. We were understanding the game through magazines and MTV, and piecing the culture together in our own way through the limited access we had. Still, that was enough to spark the desire to create something and make a statement.”

It’s a truly unique vantage point to raise a brand over ten years, while the brand in turns raises you. On whether he feels the brand and he have grown up together, and what that’s been like, Lindelani shares that “it’s so crazy because the brand is actually this vessel that I’ve used to figure things out. From creative, to business – through varsity and early adulthood, and it’s a very interesting thing to be able to introspect at the ten year mark. For our anniversary, I looked at it in two ways: firstly, what the world has achieved in space in terms of streetwear and the culture, and the fact that we’ve been able to continue, too.”

Photography by Henry Hansen
 
 

Streetwear’s success today can be attributed to its ability to blend fashion with cultural expression, in the way that it has given rise to this ‘middle place’ for converging creative disciplines across design, music, art, graffiti, skating, surfing and so on. When we think of Virgil at Louis Vuitton, or Colm Dillane’s KidSuper, streetwear has given the kind of visibility and opportunity to a new generation beyond the confines of expectations that society demands. Non-conformists and rebels, with streetwear, are part of the larger creative conversation – and I’d argue, they’re shaping the conversation today. As Lindelani poignantly states, “streetwear a decade ago was very alternative, and even though it’s become very commercial – I think the promise of streetwear is that it’s one of the few subcultures left, with those principles of community, meaning, purpose and storytelling. It’s this thing that continues to disturb the norm and breaks boundaries, even when it meets commercial success.”

On the codes that Lindelani can impart for future-brand builders, he describes that “building a brand requires you to be as flexible as possible. You have to be willing to figure it out and take your time doing it, and make sure you’re learning and connecting to people and things that you’re interested in. Finish school, do a lot of projects, and discover things outside of streetwear, too. That’s where you’ll find the best references. Be really intentional, above all else.” Lindelani credits S.W.A.N.K’s endurance and endless energy to push forward with the art of ‘interception’. The idea that the shots you take are the ones that you were prepared to take a risk for – “I always say that it comes down to being in the right moment and position to intercept an opportunity. There is a lot of luck involved, but having that vision to intercept something – that is what takes an idea to new levels. I think about this film that we did with Koketso and the guys from Darling TV, and how they were keen to create something outside of the adverts that they were doing.”

As we wrap up our conversation, some people from what sounds like the States come into the store, excitedly asking Lindelani about what the space is, and who the brand is – and I’m reminded of the power of tangible spaces, for our ideas and projects to live in. With WORKSHOP* and S.W.A.N.K a creative and cultural nexus of Jozi – and a shining light for generations to come –  Lindelani’s last words before he’s off to connect with his customers are; “I want S.W.A.N.K to give people opportunities that they can intercept. Yes, we’re about products but we are community first. Streetwear is about taking risks and there aren’t actually any blueprints. I think that’s what makes it so exciting.”

  

Photography by Henry Hansen
 
 

Written by: Holly Beaton

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

The Importance of Intuition and Synergy as told by Set Designer and Conceptual Stylist, Francois Ferreira

I count every conversation that I have with creatives and artists as a deep honour. Perhaps because of my bias, gaining insight into the practices and perspectives of South African creatives evokes a stronger will to believe so deeply in the landscape of our country’s future. So, no conversation I have is concluded with my feeling anything but inspired – yet, there are those conversations which, almost out of nowhere, dig a little deeper into the matrices of emotion and depth of what it means to use one’s creativity as a method for searching, defining and acting out one’s own dreams. This conversation with conceptual stylist and set designer, Francois Ferreira, is one of those dialogues that moved the needle of my belief just that little bit further, on the potency of creativity as a medicine or salve for keeping the human spirit on its course through this strange and complicated reality.  

Francois Ferreira is a wild force; somehow the effortless hybrid of the truest punk attitude – inhabiting the very best of non-conformity and rebellion – mediated by his delicate intuition, and the bleeding heart of someone in love with hope, in love with art and driven by a profound sense of empathy. And, it shows in Francois’s detailed repertoire of work. A world-builder and a magic-maker, Francois is a leader in the world of set design and styling as two components of the highest order when achieving symphonic fashion imagery. Set-building has often been the unsung hero of the difference between fashion and ‘FASHION’ – the latter being the way in which editorials and campaigns can be exalted to the status of fine-art. Whether it’s the etheric edge that Francois fused with vuvuzelas and Zulu-inspired headpieces as a way to portray the sartorial legacy of SA soccer culture for adidas x Orlando Pirates x Thebe Magugu,  or the giant hand gracefully holding a model for The Lavazza Calendar 2024 shot by Aart Verrips, or the pyramid drapery for Amy Zama’s #STYLBEYSA campaign with Woolworths – Francois uses set design and props as a language unto its own, instilling conceptual motifs and depth across the work that he is involved in, with a stunning command. 

On the beginning of his career as stylist, Francois explains that “I studied marketing but I had experiences as an extra in South African telenovelas – and I’d always liked wardrobe. After finishing my degree, I worked for a gallery and then someone asked me why I didn’t become a stylist? Honestly, I didn’t realise it was even a job. I really didn’t think you could get paid for this shit!” It seems to be a universal experience among many of the best stylists – that styling didn’t even seem like a real job, considering previous connotations of the work were rooted in playing with clothes. Though, as styling has become more understood as a role, it’s far more than that. Francois’ earliest focus was menswear, “I started with GQ and became one of the first freelance contributors for the publication in that decade. I helped them launch GQ Style, and I worked for a lady called Charlotte Collins for a long time – she is an amazing stylist and taught me a lot of things, as well as Arthur Malan-Murison, who was at that time the fashion director for GQ. I ended up working for GQ South Africa, GQ UK and GQ Europe.”

Francois Ferreira Set Design for LAVAZZA, Photography by Aart Verrips

Francois Ferreira Set Design for LAVAZZA, Photography by Aart Verrips

With multiple Loeries behind his name and a recognition in 2016 as the top stylist in Africa and Middle East, Francois began to build his vision as a conceptual stylist – with a skillset rooted in narrative storytelling, “I was always known as a fashion stylist because of my background, but I wanted to change the narrative, so I did an exhibition called One Night Stand. That pivoted my career in a more conceptual direction, looking at performance art, set design and concept as a basis for my process.”

Navigating the multitudes of what one wants to say with their work, Francois credits his intuition as a guide in how to manage the discipline of a stylist and set-builder between commercial work and artistic expression, “In the beginning, I only wanted to do menswear. I wanted to change the way people see and interact with menswear and I really did that at GQ, I think, so my goals are always personal in that way. Every time you walk into a room and with whomever you meet, you need to know why you’re there. Sometimes you’re there to make money and you do need to shut up and follow the brief, and sometimes you’re there to be creative and you have to fight for that vision. I have tried to guide my whole life and career to things that are achievable to me personally, so that whatever I do remains personal to me and not determined by society or clout.”

A two year stint as fashion director for Edcon (the now defunct retail home for Edgars) Francois pursued a sabbatical for a year, travelling and searching to return to the source of his inspiration. Creativity has a kind of sentient awareness that needs to be fed and nurtured, and for someone as intellectually curious and driven by poetics in his work – Francois notes that recognising that “we have multiple facets and sides of ourselves, and we can only tell stories of what we’ve allowed ourselves to be put into,” brought him to a place beyond the rail and steamer, and into the world of set design. “I wanted to do set building”, Francois says, “and because of my understanding of wardrobe, I think it’s easier for me to build sets that speak the same language. I think that’s the secret to my success – as well as being very clear that no element should outshine the other, all aspects of a good story or image have to be balanced with each other.”

In the decade and counting that Francois has been building his point of view (and accompanying reputation as a true artist within the fashion space), Francois feels that it’s the team-player nature of working on a set or building a body of work that demands a sacred and sensitive approach, “the beauty of where things are right now is that people I’ve admired and wanted to work with, I’ve had the opportunity to do so. Back in the day, you couldn’t just walk onto set with another stylist – it was a singular job, you know? Set design has given me an ability to collaborate in a really different way with people that I love and channel our creativity together, to tell new stories.”

We talk endlessly about collaboration in the creative space. In fact, it’s become a bit of an oversaturated word – how ‘sustainability’ lost its meaning for our changing understanding of fashion’ so – I’m curious to ask Francois whether he thinks that we have arrived in South Africa as truly being collaborative? To which he says “as far as widespread collaboration goes – I think it’s a theory, and a good one too. I think it definitely happens when you get older and you have your own confidence in your work. I learned this stuff playing team sport, which happened when I turned 30 and started playing touch rugby. I had grown up an isolator, and touch rugby weirdly saved my life. Learning how to truly be in a team is about understanding that it’s not always your turn to shine and it can take a long time to understand what your purpose can be in a team. A lot of us still don’t really understand that because we haven’t made peace with ourselves and our own narratives as creatives. So, we go into spaces asking for everything and when we don’t get it – we get upset, or our ego gets bruised.”

What then, is Francois’ antidote to this? “You must walk into collaboration and allow something without asking for anything in exchange. It’s the notion that even if I get nothing, the experience was worth it.”

‘Barber Boys’ for Fucking Young! Magazine, photographed by Aart Verrips, production design by Francois Ferreira

Gina Jeanz photographed by Aart Verrips, Product Design and Styling by Francois Ferreira

Regarding his process, Francois shares that “for me, styling is a feeling thing. It’s a tangible thing. I’m obsessed with the movement of fabric. You can plan a story to the tee, but on the day is when the work is really revealed. It could be anything from meeting the model – and they give off a certain vibe – and knowing that can’t force them into something that’s not them, so you have to adapt. I think the difference between a good story is how the set was that day and whether everyone was included in creating the work. Having different skills on the day is why a set is a collaborative space; so if you trust the photographer, their moment to take over is important. If you become too stubborn and are too rigid in what you want, there is no space for that openness to come through.”. When all is said and done, showing up with openness to is the difference between stale work and work in which the viewer can truly see the collaboration that came together. I think of the Orlando Pirates x adidas x Thebe Magugu, with Room Studio guiding the process, as a body of work in which the brilliance of many minds came through to give us something so elevated, so meaningful and so indicative of South African ingenuity. Those images will live in my mind forever. As Francois simply says, “you’ve got to give into the freedom of creation on the day – that creates synergy and beautiful work. We have power in what we do and in creativity, there’s so much healing.”

On finding harmony in the process, Francois says that the arrangement of a team is crucial, that “the biggest thing that controls my work is that there’s a captain of the ship. Sometimes that captain is me, sometimes it’s someone else, but there always needs to be someone guiding the work. I’m also very into working with people who balance each other out. I’m eccentric, and if the photographer is eccentric – it’s a carnival, chom! Working with people who have a different viewpoint or ability to balance each other out is so important.”

Set design is a kind of shamanic practice for space-creation and atmosphere-enhancing. All of the greatest feats in fashion and the arts are punctuated by strong sets that work in flow with whoever is situated in the space and I am of the belief that this new era of set design in South African sartorial consciousness, led by minds such as Francois, are keys to unlock even greater heights. “For set design, it’s very much a conversation between me and whoever the stylist is. If we understand the narrative together, we can complement the space between garments and the surrounding set or world,” Francois notes, and “I do costume design, production design – and at the end of the day, I just want to show the world my art. That’s the most important thing to me. With sets, there’s less people that get involved with my work and I can find a lot more freedom, because set design is a specific kind of skill. People really allow you to create a space.” 

Francois’ attitude is one of reverence for the healing power of art. This couldn’t be a more beautiful personal manifesto, especially in the context of our country – a place trying (and achieving) its own storytelling and vision, from the ashes of a traumatised and displaced past. I ask Francois precisely what he hopes his work can say, “I’ve always rooted for the underdog. I try to tell stories to make people feel more at home and from a personal point of view, I didn’t have the best childhood – it was hard – and there’s a way that the work I’ve done and continue to do transformed me. I want to leave work that inspires some kid one day who felt misunderstood, for them to know that there’s a way out, you know? I think that’s what we can do with our work. We create hope and we create stories that can offer that escape from hard situations.”

Finally, I leave you with Francois’ lasting wisdom on why fashion image-making matters – what it says about culture, history, the future and our place in the world, “Language limited. I can say something you and you understand through the lens of your context, background and experiences – with imagery, it’s universal. There’s this beautiful thing in which we see the image and feel it, before we ascribe language to it. I haven’t found anything more powerful than that.” 

 

  

Styling and Production design by Francois Ferreira, photographed by Aart Verrips

THE EDIT for Sunday Times Fashion, shot by Aart Verrips, Set and Prop Design by Francois Ferreira

Written by: Holly Beaton

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

Fashion’s Hidden Architects – The Impact of Stylists from the 1980s until Today

Picture in your mind’s eye a rail of pristinely steamed garments – preferably colour coded or in ascending order of material composition or by order of outfit changes – neatly perched on a rail. Imagine a table covered in neat rows of jewellery – chunky rings, delicate necklaces, earrings of all different forms. The steamer is ready, the return receipts have been folded into a book somewhere, the China bags have been emptied and the looks have been finalised. The ‘for use’ forms dished out by designers have been signed, and the stylist’s job is only half done. This moment is the halfway point on set or before a client makes their final choices – and in the days leading up, the mind behind this moment has raced from store to store and rack to rack (and from email to email), moodboard in hand (or in the back of their mind), to bring about a synthesis of their point of view in tandem with their brief, provided by the client and (or) the creative director. Stylists are unequivocally Fashion’s (with a capital F) secret weapon. 

Any fashion visual that we see – from campaigns, to editorials, to covers, to red carpets – exist in large part to the guiding hand and eye, born from the mind and vision of a fashion stylist. Today, being a stylist is a coveted role in the fashion industry; from Ib Kamara’s prodigal ascent as an editor-at-large at i-D to the current EIC of Dazed in his mid twenties (made possible through Ib’s effervescent styling and storytelling ability) to Law Roach’s starpower as the mind behind Zendaya’s sartorial expression; to be a stylist today is to be more than just somebody in fashion. 

It’s strange, then, to contemplate that stylists were at one time a dirty secret: so behind the scenes for magazines that their names barely made the credit list, and in Hollywood during the 1980s – celebrities were dressing themselves. For the purpose of this story, we are going to take it decade by decade; uncovering some notable moments from the 1980s until today that may have shaped the way in which we understand the role of a stylist. Fashion lore is difficult to pick apart; it’s widespread and complex, and contextual to the rise of pop culture and fashion through a northern hemispheric lens. This is not to say, though, that these influences touch the surface of movements in sartorial expression around the rest of the world.

Skall Studio Backstage, photographed by Bryndis Thorsteinsdottir for AW24 Copenhagen Fashion Week via CPHFW Image Bank

Styling photographed by Skylar Kang, via Pexels

Styling is a broad term, but it can be distinguished into two categories. Editorial stylists work for brands, magazines and editorials, creating visually compelling and often thematic photo shoots. Their work is rooted in creative conceptulisation, using fashion in a collaborative setting to tell a story or convey a specific mood. Conversely, celebrity stylists focus on dressing individual clients for events like red carpets and award shows, making fashion choices that impact how celebrities are perceived. Think Karla Welch and her clients, Justin and Hailey Bieber, as the definition of a celebrity stylist – and Alastair McKimm of i-D Magazine, as the quintessential editorial stylist. 

Back in the 80s, fashion was coming out of its ethereal, bohemian era as cemented by the previous decade – a time when music had truly become a religion, with bands like Led Zeppelin flamboyantly draped in chiffon shirts and bell bottom jeans (que Jimmy Page’s custom dragon suit by Japanese designer Kobayashi). The 70s saw the late and great Vivienne Westwood start her career as the stylist and dressmaker for the Sex Pistols, and in essence, cementing the articulation of ‘punk’ as an aesthetic. Vivienne’s work in this decade was among the first inklings of ‘creating’ the brand identity of artists through the medium of fashion. 

So, with the sharp turn of the decade, fashion  saw an amplification of this flamboyance with the emergence of pop culture as a full-blown commodity with the launch of MTV. Stars like Madonna and Grace Jones led by stylistic minds like Maripol began to carve out a visual language that was as important as their sound. Cocaine was flowing about as freely as champagne and the world was gearing up for a decade of excess, emblazoned in neon lights, sequins and BIG hair – the bigger, the better. Still, stylists were generally the ‘unseen’ hands of the visual phenomena of the 80s until the very last years of the decade – when icons like New York stylist Patti Wilson and Vogue’s Grace Coddington started to become internationally recognised for their influence on fashion. Grace Coddington is reported to have gone uncredited for ‘years’ at British Vogue, before joining American Vogue as Anna Wintour’s right hand creative director in 1988. 

Enter, the 90s. What must go up, must come down – as the saying goes – and the 90s was a decade that turned its back on the 80s, in square rejection of all its glitz and hedonistic glamour. This decade is touted by fashion-philes as ‘the golden age for publishing’, with magazines like Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, i-D and Dazed, becoming canonical texts laden with imagery by photographers like Mario Testiono and muses like Kate Moss. The decade was punctuated by moody and grunge sensibilities – and labels like Prada and Jil Sander introduced restrained minimalism, in which stripping away any sense of excess was fashion’s guiding principle. Pop stars like Britney Spears and all the surrounding boy bands were styled by figures like David Thomas, and fashion had truly become a currency between brands and marketing execs, looking to secure fame and fortune for artists. Though there is a clear through-line between each of the decades to this point that stylists have always been present, this is the decade that set the tone for editorial and celebrity stylists to be recognised as the creative visionaries that they truly are.

Archival Fashion photographed by Skylar Kang, via Pexels

Styling photographed by Skylar Kang, via Pexels

Before we enter the millennium, I would like to take this brief intermission to discuss the reason why, despite stylists being so obviously involved in fashion’s evolution, they might have been ‘kept a secret’? It’s called Hollywood, baby. When entertainment was first being conceived, the notion of films, TV and music being a kind of fantastical escape was an entirely new construct. This democratisation of entertainment hinged on the idea that any good production or product must appear to the masses as if made of magic. As Rachel Zoe wrote for The Hollywood Report, “being a stylist used to be a very behind-the-scenes job, not really talked about. Now celebrities are advocates for their team. They post pictures of their stylist, hair and makeup people nearly every time they get ready and credit them on Instagram. That was unheard of a decade ago. I wouldn’t even do an interview about my clients without permission from them. It was much more secretive. If we took pictures on Oscar night or premiere day, it was for our eyes only.” 

This era of secrecy was intended to lend an air of mystery to the exaltation of celebrity culture, Hollywood, and as a consequence – fashion. Though, eventually the road led to the bolstering of a mainstream recognition for fashion image-making as a production; and the charge was in fact, by most accounts, led by Rachel Zoe, who launched her show ‘The Rachel Zoe Project’ to a 2000s audience of fashion-obsessed, initiating one of the first ‘behind the scenes’ into what styling (specifically, celebrity) truly was.

As is true for almost anything in the 21st century, the role of the stylist has been irrevocably shaped by social media. In the 2000s, 2010s and now in the 2020s, social media apps like Instagram and Twitter gave voice to stylists (and all creatives in fashion) to carve their own personas, through phone screens and desktops. There are very few secrets today, and as fashion audiences, we have greater access to details and behind-the-scenes than was ever possible before. Today, we can check the profiles of our favourite stylists to be directly updated with their work – whether it’s red-carpet or editorial, personal or branded. As Karla Welch explains in her episode on The Cutting Room Floor (in my opinion, the greatest fashion podcast that exists), “stylists today are power-brokers”, responsible for shaping and maintaining the public image of their clients, which could lead to deals with brands and greater opportunities. Karla reveals that as a leading stylist, she will cut a percentage from brokering a deal between one of her clients and a brand. For example, Hailey Bieber’s long standing partnership with YSL. This episode is key in understanding some of the ‘process’ involved in this new and lucrative era of styling, along with Law Roach’s episode on CRF, in which he explains that this collaboration with Zendaya was part of elevating her, ultimately leading to advancements in her career and credibility, and in turn, is own career. Image is everything, and to be an image architect is synonymous with the repertoire of a stylist. 

Stylists are indispensable for the fashion’s hand in cultural expression. Locally, we can think of legends like Bee Diamonhead, Amy Zama and Chloe Andrea Welgemoed – who each have carved South Africa’s current sartorial vision, in the context of our industry’s moves and country’s references. Being a stylist is to be a translator between visions held by photographers, designers and directors – that is born into a language understood through our eyes and emotions. Here’s to a fashion future in which the role of the stylist, and the instructable amount of work that goes into the job, is celebrated and respected. 

Fashion doesn’t happen in a vacuum, darling – but you’re definitely going to need a steamer.  

Learn more from fashion podcasts, for your pleasure:

The Cutting Room Floor by Recho Omondi

Articles of Interest by Avery Trufelman 

Written by: Holly Beaton

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

Merchants on Long x Unknwnprojcts launch a collection of upcycled coats and kimonos

Known as the home of African fashion and design, Merchants on Long, champion sustainability in a bespoke, one-of-a-kind upcycled collection. 

In collaboration with designer Sash Cebekhulu of Unknwn Projcts – this is an experimental research project that explores design centred around sustainability, a limited edition collection made from already existing designer pieces. 

Part of the core of Merchants on Long as a brand, is showcasing African designers whose work celebrates the spirit of slow fashion and cultural celebration. The Unknwn Projcts x Merchants on Long  upcycled capsule collection of kimonos and coats is the culmination of these principles. 

“We thought it would be great to explore a collection that reimagined deadstock, giving new life to African design fashion pieces that were of great quality, fabric and colour but had aged due to retail having paused over the covid period. When we began thinking about this upcycled capsule collection, Unknwn Projcts was a natural choice to collaborate with,” says Jeanine Benjamin, Merchants on Long COO.

Photography by Dicker and Dane

The collaborators worked together on a unisex approach of kimonos and coats that would be wearable, with flexible sizing, the collection is versatile, inclusive and unique – a colourful selection of 10 kimonos and coats inspired by the Martin Letholo Coat that Unknwn Projcts had created previously are all designed with the same pattern and are one-of-a-kind, made from different textures and cuts of material. The pieces, crafted with meticulous skill and demonstrating Sash’s classical training, reflect the collective’s deeply conceptual approach and intrinsic sense of resourcefulness. 

“Upcycling aligns with the Merchants on Long ethos of supporting and raising awareness of designers across Africa working within a vast range of products, design disciplines and methods. Importantly, it also speaks to our commitment to slow fashion and the promotion of environmental protection by emphasising the longevity and value of garments – we encourage consumers to cherish their clothing for a lifetime,” says Summendra Chetty, buyer at Merchants on Long.

Photography by Dicker and Dane

A fitting complement to Merchants on Long’s existing ranges, Sash Cebekhulu’s collection can also be found in the boutique.

Creative Direction: Dicker and Dane 

Photography: Armand Dicker

Styling: Anthony Dane

 

Press release courtesy of Narrative PR

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za