IN CONVERSATION WITH SABER AHMED

Words by Elena Kaempfe

BTS Photography by Juliette Leoncini Roux

Juliette Leoncini Roux – @juliette.leoncini

At Ogata, Glass Cypress held its first fashion show in Paris with its Fall Winter 2026 collection titled “A Quiet Frontier.” Founded in 2016 by brothers Saber Ahmed and Samee Ahmed, the Texas-based menswear label has evolved outside the traditional fashion capitals. Raised by Bangladeshi parents, the brothers grew up with a sensitivity to craft and material that continues to inform the brand’s contemporary language in quiet, deliberate ways.

The rooms were spare yet quietly striking, light settling gently across wood and stone. There was a sense of stillness before anything began. On every chair lay an envelope containing a letter and a pen, waiting.

The note opened simply: “Dear friends, thank you for being here. My name, Saber, means patience, a value I did not naturally possess and one I have learned through time and work.” What followed reflected on discipline and reduction, on removing excess so that form could surface through repetition. The garments, it explained, were constructed without added effect, designed to sit with the body and reveal themselves gradually through wear.

When the show ended, the invitation remained. Guests were asked to respond, leaving behind a word of their own.

Glass Cypress continues to work closely with artisans, employing techniques such as dyeing, quilting, gathering, bridging, and washing. In Paris, the space, the letter, and the work itself seemed to move at the same tempo, unhurried and deliberate, leaving an impression that lingered long after the room had emptied.

Elena Kaempfe: This season marked your first presentation in Paris. What did that moment represent for you, both personally and professionally?

Saber Ahmed: Everything I do is a continuation of a body of work. Showing in Paris felt less like an arrival and more like
a moment of alignment, when the clarity of the brand and the reason for making the work felt fully formed
and ready to be shared. Personally, it confirmed that the intuition guiding the process could hold up under
scrutiny.

What was the starting point for this collection? Was there a specific reference, idea, or period you kept returning to?

I try to avoid working from fixed references. The collection began with a feeling I experienced while
walking in Jackson Hole, watching my niece move freely through an open landscape. That sense of scale,
movement, and quiet tension became the foundation.

That sense of scale and tension is very present in the silhouettes. How did that feeling translate into construction and material on the runway?

It translated through construction rather than imagery. I was interested in the beauty that emerges from tension, in how landscapes are worn in and shaped over time. Techniques such as gathering, bridging, and washing were used to test gravity and use, allowing garments to collaborate with time rather than resist it.

What proved most challenging during the process?

Restraint. It is easy to over-design, and learning when to stop, to trust repetition and editing, was the most demanding part of the process.

The casting felt very intentional and understated. What was your vision for the models?

I wanted models who could carry tension and human presence without projecting personality or attitude.
The intention was for the garments to speak first, without any performance or narrative attached.

You are based in Texas, which is not typically associated with contemporary menswear. How does that distance shape your work?

Texas is not a fashion reference point, and that distance is important. It allows me to work without
constant visual noise or immediate comparison, which keeps the process grounded and personal.

How would you say living in Texas nourishes you as an artist?

It provides distance from trends, urgency, and general overexposure. That separation gives ideas time to
mature and cultivate internally and quietly before they are shared.

Do you see your work as connected to a specific place, or do you try to keep it geographically open?

The work is informed by context but not tied to one place. I am more interested in conditions such as time,
movement, pressure, and of course texture, than geography.

How do you see the current state of menswear, and where do you position Glass Cypress within it?

Menswear today moves very quickly. Glass Cypress exists intentionally outside that pace. I am less
interested in novelty and more focused on continuity, building a language that can be returned to and
refined over time.

How would you describe your vision of modern menswear?

Classic pieces are forms that have already proven their longevity. Working within familiar structures forces
discipline and leaves little room to hide behind novelty.

You continue to work with classic pieces like shirts and tailoring. What draws you back to these forms today?

Classic pieces are forms that have already proven their longevity. Working within familiar structures forces
discipline and leaves little room to hide behind novelty.

In a fashion climate that often prioritizes novelty, what does classic mean to you now?

I don’t think classic is a refusal of change. Fashion exists because of the impulse to leave what is familiar
and move toward something new. At the same time, moving too far from the idea or too quickly risks
isolation. For me, classic lives in the tension between novelty and sameness. It is a balance, introducing
subtle difference without abandoning the idea, allowing garments to evolve while still remaining legible
and usable over time.

The name Glass Cypress suggests a contrast between fragility and strength. How did the name come about, and how does it relate to the brand’s identity?

The name reflects the same tension that runs through the work. Glass Cypress is about balancing
opposing forces i.e. fragility and strength, novelty and sameness. The clothes are meant to introduce
subtle differences without removing familiarity, allowing forms to adapt and erode without losing their
structure. That balance gives the work durability, both physically and conceptually.

The Paris venue was very considered visually. How involved were you in choosing the space, and what role did it play in presenting the collection?

The space was integral. Ogata is quiet, precise, and built around attention rather than spectacle. It
allowed the collection to exist without distraction, which was important to me.

When you think about the wearer, are you designing for a specific person or a broader idea of masculinity?

I am designing for someone who understands balance. Someone who values familiarity but is not
confined by it, and who is open to change without chasing novelty for its own sake. It is less about
masculinity and more about conviction and presence, where the clothes adapt to the wearer and
confidence remains intact, even as the garments change.

After this Paris presentation, what feels most important for you moving forward as a designer?

Continuity and balance. I am focused on refining the language rather than expanding it. I’ll try to make
sure the work holds up quietly, over time, without needing constant explanation.