Sebastian Hoffmann: I worked in the art trade for quite a bit, as a co-gallerist organizing exhibitions and programs. Two and a half years ago, two friends and I founded an interior firm called Tadan – we like to call ourselves “decorators”. So I’m surprised curating has remained a part of what we do and as important to me as before. The spectrum between decorating and curating is narrower than I thought. They’re really not the same, however, they’re both about relating things to each other and spaces, situations.

We’d done a couple of smaller projects before, including a loan for the brasserie upstairs – black-and-white photographs by the Latvian artist Edgars Gluhovs, of a wine tasting and paired with a quote from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”: “Anybody with their nose pressed against a glass is liable to look stupid.“ After that, I jokingly ended an email with: “Next up – the windows…”

That kind of joke you wish becomes a reality. And then, a few weeks later, they somehow picked it up and asked if we could talk about it. KaDeWe had collaborated with artists before, but I wanted to do something with no products from the store. Then we had the idea to align it with Gallery Weekend. That’s why all participating artists are represented by galleries involved in the festival’s program.

I’ve been going there since the ’90s – mostly with my grandmother. Whenever she said her lipstick had run out, I knew we were going to KaDeWe. In hindsight, it was probably just an excuse, no lipstick’s gone that quickly – but it becamone of our rituals. I live nearby now, still go often, even just to wander around.

Very much. They were in for all the irritation. And it works – if you hang around the storefront for 20 minutes, you’ll see all kinds of reactions from passersby and learn so much. Highly recommended!

Each window is a different case. Benjamin Heisenberg’s video piece, for example, runs on old TVs – like in a vintage electronics store. Isabella Ducrot’s large-scale painting functions like a stage set. Every window required its own approach.

You reach people who didn’t actively decide to look at art. Most come across this exhibition by accident. Sometimes one person stops and others follow, changing the dynamic entirely. That’s also why we wanted the windows to be as heterogeneous as possible.

Very thin – and that’s what makes it exciting and adds more potential to the works shown. Pamela Rosenkranz’s “Pour Yourself“, a set of Evian bottles could easily be mistaken for a product display. John Miller’s “Dress Rehearsal for the Revolution“ is a band consisting of mannequins, this band is entirely confusing in all their dead-pan glory. For this work, the project is a „homecoming“, somehow.

Some names and even works came to mind immediately – Josefine Reich, John Miller, Saâdane Afif who, with his ready-made approach, created a minimal yet effective work using reflective road sign foil – even the windowpane becomes part of the piece.

Artists like Warhol, Rauschenberg, or Jasper Johns worked with or for department store windows with creative freedom of sorts but always with products from the stores.

It’s a gift. The displays are especially striking at night – with movement, light, reflections. The city becomes part of the work. People are more focused, less distracted. The viewing experience is different at every part of the day.

New meanings emerge. Alexandra Bircken’s window shows a sculpture containing motorbike gas tanks, hair, fire – familiar but disorienting elements. It catches people and that tension between recognition and confusion creates engagement.

Optimism. The collaboration was smooth – with all the galleries, especially the artists and the store. And it’s a reminder: irritation is a good thing. It opens doors, especially outside traditional spaces.

People actually stopping, really looking – maybe even missing their bus. Or the father who came with his daughter three days in a row to pick a new favorite window each day. That’s the best thing that could happen.

Sonia Carrasco: A lingerie bodysuit in transparent nude tulle and black tulle, and a metallic structure in aluminum for a contest in my freshman year of fashion college. Yes, I keep it at my parents’ house. 

Fashion design became a powerful outlet for me during my last year of high school. It was a period of intense transition. So much was changing in my life, and the future felt like this vast, intimidating unknown. I was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions: excitement, fear, anxiety, hope – all of it was building up inside me, and I needed some way to release it. 

That’s when I found myself drawing more and more, almost instinctively. At first, it was just a way to clear my mind and get in touch with what I was feeling. But as I sketched, I started to realize something deeper. The more I poured my thoughts and emotions into these designs, the more I understood that fashion wasn’t just about clothes—it was about telling a story, expressing emotions, and capturing moments of life through creativity. 

It was then that I knew this was what I was meant to do. Fashion design became more than a hobby; it was my way of connecting with the world, translating feelings that words couldn’t capture. That realization, in my final year of high school, was when I fully committed to this path. There was no plan B after that – I had to pursue fashion. It became the thing that grounded me and gave me the confidence to face the uncertainty of the future. 

It hasn’t changed, but it has definitely evolved. In the beginning, I didn’t have the knowledge or tools – just raw passion and sketches. Over the years, I’ve gained skills and experience, refining my designs into something more intentional and polished. While my approach has become more professional, at its core, fashion is still my strongest form of expression. Even today, I feel that I communicate my emotions better through design than with words. 

For me, fashion is a language in itself – a unique form of communication that goes beyond words. It’s a channel of expression, allowing me to pour my thoughts, values and vision into something tangible. Through design, I can tell stories, make statements, and connect with people on a deeper, emotional level. It’s not just about creating beautiful garments; it’s about reflecting who I am and what I stand for. 

Fashion has the power to convey identity, emotion and perspective in ways that words sometimes can’t. It’s a medium that allows me to visually express my beliefs, my culture, and the world as I see it. Every piece I design is an extension of my inner voice, translating personal experiences and emotions into something others can feel and relate to. So, for me, fashion isn’t just clothing—it’s a way of speaking to the world without saying a word. 

Success is a tricky, almost ambiguous word—it’s something that often looks clear from the outside, but feels entirely different from within. From an external perspective, people might say I’ve found my place in the fashion world, but from my own view, I feel very far from where I envision myself, far from the goals I’ve set for my brand, and from the heights I’m working tirelessly to reach. In that sense, I’d say I’m still far from success—at least the version of it that I’m constantly striving for. 

But that’s the beauty of it. Success is never a fixed point; it’s always evolving as I chase after my dreams. Just when I think I’ve reached one goal, a new vision takes shape, pushing me to work harder, aim higher, and dream bigger. That constant evolution is what keeps my passion alive—it fuels the drive that gets me up every morning, ready to push my limits and take things further. 

At the same time, I’m humble enough to recognize that where I am now is a place I once dreamed of. I’ve achieved milestones that, not too long ago, felt like distant aspirations. But I’m also an ambitious dreamer, always hungry for more. So while I’m grateful for what I’ve built, I can’t help but keep raising the bar, challenging myself to keep evolving and growing. In many ways, I believe I’ll always be “far from success,” but that’s exactly what keeps me moving forward. 

What sets my brand apart is how it responds to the fast-paced, ever-changing nature of fashion today. We’re living in a time where trends rise and fall at an incredible speed—what’s considered “cool” today can feel outdated by tomorrow. In this rush for the next big thing, society seems to be losing touch with the value behind each piece, the craftsmanship, and the stories that go into creating something meaningful. It feels like we’re forgetting where things come from, their origins, and the work that makes them special. 

My brand seeks to bring that awareness back to the forefront. I don’t want to be the one asking the question—I want to give people the tools to start asking themselves: “Do we have enough?” It’s about encouraging self-reflection and sparking a personal conversation about the way we consume and the value we place on what we wear. 

When you mention the thongs and bras, that was me playing with the idea of provocation, but in a lighthearted way. I’ve always found it intriguing how fashion can evoke different reactions depending on who is delivering the message. When a certain aesthetic or design comes from one place, it’s seen as daring and bold, but when it comes from another, especially when it’s a woman expressing it, the reaction can be more complicated. It’s this nuanced contrast that I wanted to explore – subtly questioning these perceptions without making it too direct. My goal was to start a conversation without needing to shout the 

message, letting the designs speak for themselves in a way that was both fun and thought-provoking.

Now, I’m still expressing that same message, still using sensual elements, but I’ve shifted to a different channel. Lately, I’ve been focusing on traditionally masculine patterns, deconstructing them and transforming them into something that fits a more feminine form. There’s this interesting dynamic where, historically, women have adopted men’s clothing, but you rarely see it happen the other way around. So now, in my designs, I’m subtly flipping that narrative. I’m taking patterns and silhouettes that men are familiar with, but completely reinventing their meaning. It’s about offering something recognizable, but with a twist that challenges the norms of gender and power, making people question what they know without them even realizing it at first. As someone said: “Be stubborn on the vision, but flexible on the details.” 

For me, pushing boundaries is all about sparking a reaction. Whether that reaction is positive, or even challenges people’s comfort zones, I see it as a sign that I’m on the right track. As long as I’m provoking thought, conversation, or emotion, I’ll continue to push that key. The interesting thing is, I don’t think there’s a fixed limit. As my community grows, the boundaries we’re able to push also expand. It’s a collective journey—our audience shapes the conversation as much as I do. 

I believe it’s always a dynamic of “us against them” in the sense that as more people resonate with what we’re creating, the stronger we become in challenging the status quo. The more voices we have, the further we can go, redefining what’s considered acceptable or provocative. It’s not just about shock value, though; it’s about creating a dialogue and moving the conversation forward, together. So, in a way, the limit is always evolving as we continue to grow and push forward. 

This is a subject that deeply concerns me and keeps me busy. I genuinely feel that women are often seen as just tools within the fashion industry—valuable, yes, but primarily utilized for their labor and creativity rather than their leadership potential. If you take a close look at the industry structure, it becomes clear that the representation of women decreases significantly as you move up the ranks. At the entry-level positions, where hands-on skills, delicacy, and attention to detail are essential, you’ll find a higher concentration of women. But as you approach decision-making roles and positions of power, that number drops dramatically. 

This disparity affects me directly. When I look at the creative directors of major fashion houses, the number of women in those leading roles is starkly lower compared to their male counterparts. Even among the few women who do make it to these positions, many have had to carve out their own paths, often facing greater challenges along the way. They inspire me, yet it raises the question: Why aren’t we all given the same opportunities when we’re playing in the same field? 

The concept of ego is intricately woven into my work. Each piece I create represents a different part of me, a snapshot of who I am at that moment. My collections are like chapters of my life, reflecting various facets of my personality, experiences and emotions. In that sense, there are many layers of my ego present in my designs. They capture my aspirations, struggles and triumphs, allowing me to express different aspects of myself. This interplay between my evolving identity and the pieces I create is what makes each collection unique and personal. 

I wouldn’t say I have alter egos, but rather, I have different facets of my ego that come to the surface depending on the situation. Sometimes I’m shy and introspective, while other times I can be incredibly expressive and confident. There are moments of insecurity as well, but all of these aspects combine to create the person I am today. 

As for experiencing an ego death, I don’t think that’s quite the right term for me. My ego is constantly evolving—who I was 5, 6, or 7 years ago feels like a different person entirely. However, that doesn’t mean my past self is gone; rather, it has shaped who I am now. My current ego is a product of my experiences, growth, and the lessons I’ve learned along the way. It’s a continuous journey of self-discovery and transformation. 

My time at Céline and Alexander McQueen really deepened my understanding of pattern making and how garments are constructed. I learned to break down each piece from the initial sketch to the finished product. With that technical know-how, I found I could manipulate patterns in new ways, allowing me to turn traditional designs into something fresh and exciting. Once you get the hang of how things are put together, it opens up a world of possibilities for experimenting and creating unique silhouettes, which is a big part of my design approach. 

At our studio, we have a very technical approach to pattern making and design. We begin by exploring different techniques that resonate with me personally, focusing on methods like cuts, movements, or wrinkles… This allows us to showcase manipulation in the final piece, giving each design its own story and character. 

Our collections are structured in two parts. The first part is the “fundamental,” which, as the name suggests, includes the essential pieces like blazers and white shirts. These serve as the backbone of our designs. The second part is the “advanced research,” where we take those fundamental pieces and push the boundaries by deconstructing, manipulating and reconstructing them into something entirely new. This layered methodology not only 

highlights the craftsmanship behind each garment, but also allows for endless creativity and innovation in our designs. 

Every experience I’ve had working with celebrities is distinct and unique. Each individual brings their own vision, and their teams require different approaches, which keeps the process exciting and challenging. As we’ve gained more recognition, the requests for customization have increased significantly; the more you create, the more people want something tailored to them. 

However, while the demand is growing, our resources remain constant, which means we have to be more selective about the projects we take on. We focus on collaborations that resonate with our brand identity and values, ensuring that we can deliver the best quality and creativity for each client. This balance between increased requests and maintaining a high standard is crucial for us as we navigate these unique projects. 

I have a few style icons, and they all come from the 90s: Julia Roberts, the 90s Lady Diana, and TLC. Their unique styles continue to inspire me and influence my design aesthetic. And I cannot forget Kate Moss and Tyra Banks outfits from that era. 

I can say that I stick to a uniform which consists of sweatpants, a shirt, a tailored blazer, and either loafers or comfortable sneakers, depending on the day. 

My absolute dream project is what I’m currently building: my brand. This is the endeavor that I envision accompanying me for the rest of my life, created from the ground up and evolving into whatever it becomes. In the next five years, I hope to step into a creative director role at a major fashion house. I can’t imagine the experience of fully immersing myself in someone else’s vision, understanding their perspective so deeply that I can effectively translate their message and vision into the contemporary world.