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. 

Emanuele Coccia: It’s the second exhibition Olivier and I are doing. In this case, the theme was extremely clear. The overall intention was to produce a sort of new cartography of fashion to explore, on one side, how fashion invented and created a new language that is globally and planetary relevant. Unlike many other artistic artifacts, fashion produces objects that are perfectly readable and understandable from Beijing to Los Angeles, from Dakar to Sydney, from Paris to Buenos Aires. Of course, the process of becoming planetary has gone through violent and problematic phases, but it’s clear now that this is not something accessory to fashion because, in a way, fashion is the exercise of adding something new to your body or mixing your anatomical identity with something completely exterior. Some pieces are recognized as more intimate than your own body. It’s always this exercise of trespassing the border of your skin, and because of that, no other border becomes relevant.

Emanuele Coccia: It’s the second exhibition Olivier and I are doing. In this case, the theme was extremely clear. The overall intention was to produce a sort of new cartography of fashion to explore, on one side, how fashion invented and created a new language that is globally and planetary relevant. Unlike many other artistic artifacts, fashion produces objects that are perfectly readable and understandable from Beijing to Los Angeles, from Dakar to Sydney, from Paris to Buenos Aires. Of course, the process of becoming planetary has gone through violent and problematic phases, but it’s clear now that this is not something accessory to fashion because, in a way, fashion is the exercise of adding something new to your body or mixing your anatomical identity with something completely exterior. Some pieces are recognized as more intimate than your own body. It’s always this exercise of trespassing the border of your skin, and because of that, no other border becomes relevant.

What was interesting for us was to show how a kind of artificial universality is produced because, in a way, unlike other representations, universality in fashion is always produced by sewing elements together or by composing different memories, traditions, and nationalities. With our selection, we wanted to show garments that embody or unify different memories, traditions, genders, and silhouettes. That was the criterion for the choice of objects. It was extremely important for us to stress that, for fashion, every identity is a mixture or hybrid of different identities. There is no pure identity.

Yes, this was the second element. We wanted a young photographer who excels in still lifes of garments without human beings. The point was to grasp those basic forms that fashion has invented, like jeans, t-shirts, gloves, trench coats, etc., which are also universal in the sense that they are used by both the wealthy and non-wealthy, by every gender, and by every designer. In a way, they are forms available to everybody, but they are already meaningful or significant. The trench coat expresses a sort of urban mystery but can also signify much more. Items such as trench coats are basic elements of the universal language of fashion, and Gabriele was extremely talented in understanding this idea. He managed to express the almost Platonic essence of each garment. The choice of black and white emphasized this idea, depicting the garments as something anonymous. We see these forms every day, but they are becoming almost invisible; Gabriele made these forms in their strangeness visible again.

First of all, in a way, fashion is the only medium capable of crossing the limits of time. You cannot paint like we did in the 20s; it would be considered kitsch if you tried. In fashion, you can genuinely take past events and reinterpret them, liberating the past from its original context. You give these forms a new power to disrupt the present. It’s very strange since the chemical treatment of time allows us—through fashion—to escape from our life, both from the past and present.

Yes. There are many good examples; for instance, when Yves Saint Laurent in the 70s started using forms and styles from the 40s, it wasn’t an assertion that we should return to the 40s; rather, during the 40s, women were particularly powerful—men were off to war, so women were in control of the city. His idea was to use these forms to embody empowerment for women. The treatment of time and this characteristic of being borderless—not just in spatial terms but also in temporal dimensions—gives fashion incredible power. No other art form has this capacity. Of course, paintings, sculptures, and architecture are all practices that offer us freedom, but fashion grants us freedom every single day, in a public form, for every single body, because everyone is meant to be dressed.

Sometimes we forget that for a long time, garments were made from animal skin; thus, having a garment meant, for centuries, putting oneself under the skin of another life form. From this perspective, there are potentials that could allow fashion to reinvent our relationship with nature. Even among this year’s finalists, there are at least three projects truly focusing on this aspect. I believe it’s an issue that more and more young designers are considering in their work. I think that because of fashion’s universality—being an inescapable art, everyone must pass through it—fashion holds a vast potential for renewing our relationship with other life forms and allowing us to understand what it means to be under the skin of another.

This is actually something fashion radically engaged with in the 50s and 60s: when haute couture brands decided to open ready-to-wear lines, it marked the final divorce from the notion of fashion as an instrument of distinction, a class, or proof of economic and social superiority. There is a stylistic line that transcends all classes, so what fashion must do is not distinguish classes but capture the spirit of the time. That was the main idea and what granted fashion its enormous democratic potential. However, unfortunately, in the last decade—let’s say the past 20 years—a lot of companies have tried to revert to the idea of fashion as luxury, which is exactly the opposite, limiting access to very few people. This is an extremely conservative and reactionary idea. Luxury is not fashion. Fashion can, of course, embrace and include luxury, but luxury is not necessarily fashion. What those groups are doing together is extremely dangerous because it’s not just about economic politics; it’s an attempt to kill the spirit of what fashion is.

Let’s start with this institute here. It is so important because it does not follow the same model as other competitions like ANDAM, LVMH, or even HYRÈS, which tend to select candidates who share the same core profile as those at the helm of big companies. Here—you saw the candidates this year—you can find much more diversity. Some candidates do not produce with the intention of entering the industry. They create passionately and in a very diverse manner. This is also happening on different scales in different countries, in the sense that many students coming from fashion schools do not want to work in these large industries. They are trying to invent new commercial networks where, for instance, their creations are sold in art galleries, rather than in this huge retail system. So, that is one aspect. Another is that perhaps we should discuss new generations more—magazines shouldn’t solely focus on big names, but on the fashion produced by every single human being. We should really extend the discourse around fashion.

Yes, we finally need to integrate fashion into education at schools. Fashion is the only art that is not significantly taught at schools or universities, unless specified. Every person studying human and social sciences is expected to know a bit about the history of painting, sculpture, and architecture, but society tolerates ignorance regarding the history of fashion. This is also a fault of the big brands because, in a way, they are responsible for the lack of discourse surrounding fashion. They do not produce interesting discursive elements such as art galleries or books; they do not encourage people to write essays on their products. In essence, fashion companies are never interested in discourse; they assume that consumers who buy fashion are entirely illiterate. Just to give you an example, the fact that Miuccia Prada opened the foundation in Milan and showcased everything but never garments evidences their belief that fashion is simply business and not art. Otherwise, they would have displayed some of it.

Of course. If you promote and push certain values, then everyone will resist attempts to identify fashion with luxury. This ignorance also impedes people from appropriating fashion. That’s why it is also their responsibility. It is a crime that Chanel or other big companies like Balenciaga do not open their archives. Coco Chanel, it is evident, advanced humanity; she liberated many women. How can it be that the owners of this heritage hide it in the suburbs of Paris, believing they cannot show it for fear of being copied? It is such a ridiculous and irresponsible attitude from a cultural standpoint. These companies should finally recognize that they have cultural responsibilities to the global population, not just to the cities where they are based.

Yes, it is a very strange strategy, even from a commercial viewpoint. It’s clear that no one will ever possess the force and genius to create like Alexander McQueen. It would have been far better to take that money and invest it in some young designers rather than trying to produce a cult around a deceased person, which is purely necrophilia. It’s not just about countries; it’s also a major mistake from an economic perspective. Some of our past great designers were so significant—they contributed immensely to the globalization of fashion and initially had very strong successors, like Galliano, for example. But then, at a certain point, they became extremely reactionary. They are genuinely trying to kill fashion at the moment.

We’re completely lost, and the system will likely break down. You can welcome a designer but don’t expect them to dream the dreams of someone else. There are many new designers from China who do not encounter these cumbersome problems and focus more on genuinely innovative design. Those groups should operate more like art galleries.

Well, they could do that very quickly if they wanted.

Yes, but artificial intelligence is not an automatic instrument. When everyone uses artificial intelligence, the results become homogenized. It is a tool that cannot replace creativity, invention, and imagination. It allows us to go faster and create more, but we will always need people behind those instruments—in the same way that computers did not eliminate the need for someone to operate them to choose, decide what to do, or design what to wear. This is something special to fashion; we truly need to like the pieces we wear. One must, in any case, reinvent styles and reclaim one’s own freedom.

I would actually like to enter the industry to change the landscape a bit. It’s not easy, but there is significant resistance to culture in general. I’m working with the Fondation Cartier in Paris, trying to develop spaces where fashion can be discussed. It’s absurd that there’s no venue in either Paris or New York where fashion could be debated.