Every so often, a new designer comes along that we become totally and fully obsessed with. Martine Rose, whose new Spring/Summer collection hit OC with a bang (in the form of a frilly, gender-bending men's collection with its own OC online editorial shot by Tyrone Lebon and featuring model Adwoa Aboah), is the latest designer to have us super psyched. We caught up with the Seven Sisters-based designer to talk everything from her Jamaican roots to late 80s London raves.
Shop all Martine Rose HERE
Sofia Cavallo: Tell me about how you grew up. What do you think shaped your cultural interests and your aspirations to become a designer?
Martine Rose: Well, I grew up in London. My mum’s English and my dad’s Jamaican, and I'm one of the youngest in this very big, close-knit family. Some designers know what they want to be at a really young age and they start experimenting with sewing. For me, I think it came from being attached to the period in London around 1989 that was very culturally important. You had different scenes happening at the same time, and a real amalgamation of music, street culture, and club culture. On the one hand, house music was becoming really big, and on the other, there was a big emergence of reggae, roots reggae, and stuff like that. And then the house scene was sort of mixed with hip-hop. There was a lot of Big Daddy Kane, De La Soul, Burning Spear, Beres Hammond... You had a lot of acid house, too.
Even though I wasn't going to the clubs myself, I could sense that it was a really exciting time. One of my cousins was really into Boy London, my sister was really into Jean Paul Gaultier, and my brother was really into streetwear. I remember watching them getting ready to go out, and feeling like I was a part of something––even though I was only nine or ten. I think that's when I became interested in what people wear and how it reflects what they’re into.
Do you feel like you missed out?
Well, after the raves would finish, everyone would converge on this park called Clapham Common. People just used to drive their trucks in and carry on playing music, and it sort of turned into another rave. But it was a very democratic thing, because you had kids on the comedown from the weekend but also families having picnics. I remember my cousin taking me to them on Sunday afternoons because he knew how much I was so excited by all of it. Then I started going out to clubs when I was 13. By then, the scene had shifted slightly into something else. But I don’t really think I missed out; I still managed to get a sense of it.
What did your bedroom look like when you were a teenager?
My bedroom wall was full of my own drawings. They had loads of drug references that I think I'd seen on flyers––lots of Om signs, "Don't Walk, Rush" signs, and cheesy drug references. Obviously my parents didn’t know what they were. They also had a really relaxed attitude, so they let me just get on with that.
In past interviews, you've talked about a Jamaican attitude that has informed your collections.
There's a certain eccentricity that is very particular to the island. For Autumn/Winter 2013, I used it as a direct influence because I’d just come back from Jamaica, and I'd spent a lot of time with my family and up in the hills, wi
Shop all Martine Rose HERE
Sofia Cavallo: Tell me about how you grew up. What do you think shaped your cultural interests and your aspirations to become a designer?
Martine Rose: Well, I grew up in London. My mum’s English and my dad’s Jamaican, and I'm one of the youngest in this very big, close-knit family. Some designers know what they want to be at a really young age and they start experimenting with sewing. For me, I think it came from being attached to the period in London around 1989 that was very culturally important. You had different scenes happening at the same time, and a real amalgamation of music, street culture, and club culture. On the one hand, house music was becoming really big, and on the other, there was a big emergence of reggae, roots reggae, and stuff like that. And then the house scene was sort of mixed with hip-hop. There was a lot of Big Daddy Kane, De La Soul, Burning Spear, Beres Hammond... You had a lot of acid house, too.
Even though I wasn't going to the clubs myself, I could sense that it was a really exciting time. One of my cousins was really into Boy London, my sister was really into Jean Paul Gaultier, and my brother was really into streetwear. I remember watching them getting ready to go out, and feeling like I was a part of something––even though I was only nine or ten. I think that's when I became interested in what people wear and how it reflects what they’re into.
Do you feel like you missed out?
Well, after the raves would finish, everyone would converge on this park called Clapham Common. People just used to drive their trucks in and carry on playing music, and it sort of turned into another rave. But it was a very democratic thing, because you had kids on the comedown from the weekend but also families having picnics. I remember my cousin taking me to them on Sunday afternoons because he knew how much I was so excited by all of it. Then I started going out to clubs when I was 13. By then, the scene had shifted slightly into something else. But I don’t really think I missed out; I still managed to get a sense of it.
What did your bedroom look like when you were a teenager?
My bedroom wall was full of my own drawings. They had loads of drug references that I think I'd seen on flyers––lots of Om signs, "Don't Walk, Rush" signs, and cheesy drug references. Obviously my parents didn’t know what they were. They also had a really relaxed attitude, so they let me just get on with that.
In past interviews, you've talked about a Jamaican attitude that has informed your collections.
There's a certain eccentricity that is very particular to the island. For Autumn/Winter 2013, I used it as a direct influence because I’d just come back from Jamaica, and I'd spent a lot of time with my family and up in the hills, wi