Elin Luehmann: When did you start working with latex in the way you do today?

EL: Would you still call yourself a fashion designer, or does that term feel too restrictive for the work you do now?

JG: I find the term a little too restrictive because it doesn’t really represent everything I’m doing now. I think I sit in several categories at once. Fashion is still an aspect of my work, but so are sculpture, material research and textile art. My work also moves between performance and installation.

OMEN, for example, is no longer a collection in the traditional sense. It’s an ongoing body of work that isn’t tied to seasons or conventional fashion cycles. It keeps evolving and taking on different forms. And I think that’s really what PATH has become, my creative practice encompassing all these different aspects. It’s all one interconnected world.

There’s always this need to define exactly what something is, to put it into a category. But I actually find it really interesting when you can’t clearly define something, when it exists somewhere in between.

EL: You spent 15 years working in fashion, particularly in menswear. What led you to move away from conventional clothing production and explore a more sculptural approach to your work, ultimately opening up a new path for you as an artist?

JG: What I enjoy most is the experimental process, particularly working with a material like natural liquid latex. It starts as a liquid extracted from trees, and through different processes, I can transform it into these incredibly thin, translucent skins. When I first began developing my reptile-like surfaces, I hadn’t encountered latex being used in quite this way, and I became fascinated by the possibilities.

Over the past few years, I’ve developed my own techniques and visual language, constantly testing the material’s limitations and pushing it beyond what I initially thought was possible. There is still so much I want to explore.

I think the shift towards a more sculptural practice happened quite naturally. At some point, the works no longer needed to function purely as garments. They could exist independently of the body, somewhere between clothing, sculpture and artefact. And I find that freedom incredibly exciting.

EL: Your work—both the clothing and the objects—often relates to ritual objects and mythology. What fascinates you about these themes?

JG: I’m really fascinated by the uncanny, the mysterious, the spirit world, folklore and old tales. I love the atmosphere all of this creates, the energy. You know, when you sit around a campfire and somebody tells an eerie story, it’s not necessarily about the story itself, but more about that strange feeling it leaves behind, almost as if something has been awakened. And I think that’s also what draws me to ritual objects. They carry a certain presence, something familiar but also unsettling.  That’s a feeling I’m interested in creating through my own work.

EL: Artists such as FKA Twigs and COBRAH have worn your pieces. Their bodies are central to their artistic language. What happens to a garment when it leaves your studio and begins to move, perform, and exist on another body?

JG: It always depends on who wears it, how and in what context, I would say. I’ve also worked with dancers, for example, and it’s fascinating to see how the material transforms through movement and tension. It suddenly takes on a completely different shape and character. It’s almost as if the garment becomes a separate entity, responding to the body and movement in its own way.

EL: What has your work taught you?

JG: Quite a lot, actually. There is still so much to learn from the material itself, especially when it comes to testing its limitations. I find the whole process incredibly exciting because I’m constantly discovering something new.

But on a personal level, it’s also taught me a lot about my own limits. So much happened all at once last year, and I’m still learning to set boundaries and say no. I tend to think, “How can I make this work?” because I genuinely want to make things happen. But sometimes that means pushing myself too far.

So I guess while I’m constantly trying to push the boundaries of the material, I’m also learning to respect my own.

EL: You’ve developed a very distinctive way of working with latex, and it seems that others have started copying your approach. How do you feel about that?

JG: First of all thank you for noticing. I don’t really know  how to put it gracefully, but honestly, it is incredibly frustrating. You spend years experimenting and developing something, finding your own way of working with a material, and then suddenly you start seeing very similar things appearing.

Of course, nobody owns a material or a technique, but I think there’s a difference between being inspired by someone’s work and reproducing an almost identical visual language. And that’s the part I find difficult. But, just because something looks similar doesn’t mean it actually is. The materiality, the way it feels, behaves and responds to the body can be completely different. My approach involves various processes. It’s not simply about applying latex to a surface and peeling it off. I’m interested in manipulating the material itself, changing its properties, structure and behaviour. There are years of experimentation behind these processes that aren’t necessarily visible from the outside.

I can’t control what others do, but I can continue developing my own work. And in a way, it’s pushed me to think even further about where I want to take the material next.

EL: During last Paris Fashion Week, you presented Omen, an artistic project combining latex creations, an installation and performance art. What was that experience like for you?

JG: It was a completely new experience for me. I’ve worked with performance artists before, but this time I planned and directed everything myself, creating an entire environment around OMEN. It was exciting to see how the garments, objects and performance could come together within one space.

In the end, it felt almost like a little community. We even had everyone draw a tarot card representing the energy of the day, which was a lovely moment.

We always meet such interesting people in Paris, and it was really wonderful to feel how supportive everyone was. What I enjoyed most was that people could experience the works in person, touch the materials, ask questions and
engage with them beyond just seeing images online. For me, that’s really what matters, bringing people together and exchanging ideas.