Fraser Kenneth often finds themselves awake at night, wondering if they really know what the hell they are doing. Yet, this very uncertainty might be a crucial part of the process of creating a Fraser Kenneth garment—infused with Kenneth's love for fashion history, bricolaged from the most unexpected fabrics, imbued with punk sensibilities and topped off with a cinephile's wink, showcasing the designer's penchant for great storytelling.
Obsessed with American culture, Kenneth moved from the UK to New York to study at Parsons School of Design and, after being forced back to the homeland due to the pandemic, went on to work on their eccentric brand, which, for those in the know, has become synonymous with glamour and frenzy, weaving garments with captivating, slightly unhinged narratives that result in storytelling that surpasses fashion.
Kenneth's work goes against basically everything they teach you at school, they say; the one-of-a-kind garments are unreproducible, uncommercial, and crafted from wrong fabrics. "I could be dead in the ground with nothing to my name and zero money, and if everyone was like, "The clothes were so good", I'd be like, cool, job done", the designer says. As painstakingly intricate as they are, Kenneth's garments are wearable. Unlike some experimental fashion that often relies on shock value and disregards the existence of the body, their designs innovate in texture and silhouettes within the constraints of wearability.
Twisted cardigans, paper doll dresses in grey felt, fucker tights scrawled with profanities, upcycled lace corsets, burlap mini skirts, and a Reserved for Fraser Kenneth apron featuring a note from Kenneth's niece rendered in embroidery. Essex-born, London-based designer's AW24 collection, Oh The Gardens Are So Grey This Time Of Year, is all about "vintage dolls and the fall of glamour, in like a shabby Chicago way." The designer says, "It's basically 1920s/40s if it was set in the '90s. Very dress up box vibe."
With looks named Copycat Costume,What ever happened to Baby Jane? and Mothballs, one thing is clear: Kenneth likes to have fun. "Making clothes is one of the things that makes me happy. So I do like to have fun with that. I think fashion is fun, and it should be fun. It can be serious, but like, seriously fun," they say.
In their studio-cum-flat in London, surrounded with a treasure-trove of fabric scraps and mannequins donning micro skirts scrawled with “QUIT BITCH" on their backsides for passersby to admire through the windows, we sit down with Kenneth to chat about creativity in the "wackadoodle time" their obsession with Diablo Cody's cult classic Jennifer's Body, emojis, bungee jumping, copycatting and all things "shapes and lines and colours".
Let's start from the beginning. How did you get into fashion?
I kind of fell into fashion. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a pop star. I loved Hannah Montana. So, I would write notes to my parents, asking if I could be Hannah Montana. Obviously, in Essex, England, that's not a vibe. So then my mum said, okay, let's do dance and theatre. So I did all of that. I did acting as a kid. Nothing professional, just drama clubs trying to do that theatrical expression. I kind of failed my GCSEs, so I ended up doing a BTEC in fashion. And then it was the first time in my educational career when people were like, oh, you're actually good at this. In high school, I had never been praised by my peers or teachers, so this felt like the right direction. And then I wanted to get out of my hometown. So, I applied to Parsons.
Why did you decide to go to Parsons in New York? There are arguably some reputable fashion schools in the UK, like Central Saint Martins and the London College of Fashion.
I just wanted to get away. This is such a strange statement, but I never felt necessarily connected to British stuff; it just wasn't my vibe. I didn't want to live in London. I was so obsessed with American culture that I felt like I needed to go to New York.
Why did you come back?
I was forced back because of Covid-19. I was going to get a job, but then they couldn't offer me job security because of Covid. That was the end of the chapter, or whatever you want to call it.
Having experienced the American fashion industry and now being back in the UK, what are the key differences between the two?
I think they are similar. I'm not necessarily that familiar with everyone here, and I probably was not very familiar with everybody there, but there are definitely similarities. Before I went to New York, I thought it would be very different, but it's not. There is the same trope in every industry. It's scary how small the world is. There are people I know from many different lives.
You mentioned that you didn't feel particularly connected to your British heritage. Many designers draw from their backgrounds when creating. Do the references need to be personal to achieve authenticity in fashion design or art generally?
My heritage is not that important to me, so I don't necessarily consider it. But if it is to some, it can be authentic, truthful and important. I mean, I know I'm not making the most important pieces of clothing. But I know there are also people who are contributing to, like, basically nothingness. Sometimes, I look at my phone, and everyone is hyping something up. And I'm like, that's the worst thing I've ever seen. It doesn't feel authentic. It's like, again, reductive and kind of stupid, but again, fashion isn't meant to be that intelligent all the time.
We can often forget that sometimes things can be purely aesthetic. Not every plain white t-shirt needs to have a deep, contrived meaning attributed to it.
I feel like I know who you are talking about. Also, I am kind of a fashion snob. I feel like no one understands the history of fashion. What irks me is that anything period is considered Marie Antoinette. Some people just don't understand it. That's also fine. I've chosen to be obsessed and educated in that, and there are things that people know that I don't know anything about. But it does bother me because I think, probably in the last couple of years, or I'm just noticing more that people think they're fashion experts. And it's just like, no, you're not. Everyone wants to be a fashion stylist or a designer. And you don't need to go to school for that, but it has to be authentic. Going back to your question — if your heritage inspires you, then the things you make will never be wasteful because they're important. And they have meaning. But there is also so much that contributes nothing to the industry.
Your point about fashion history is incredibly important because many people entering this industry are driven by a passion for clothes and their historical significance. It's not necessarily the most financially lucrative industry. You don't go into it thinking, "I'm going to be a millionaire," because of the sheer number of people competing.
Yes, exactly.
What bothers me is when people pursue it solely for aesthetics, such as self-proclaimed creative directors who do very little. You should enter this industry out of genuine obsession and love for it. Seeing those who do it for the wrong reasons can be very disheartening, considering there are simply not enough jobs for everyone.
Yes, I felt that way when I was at school because it was always the people who were either obsessed with fashion or people who could just afford designer clothes, which isn't necessarily bad. That's fine. But that talks to the divide. I can rationalise everybody's point of view, but I am very cynical or pessimistic because I think the real winners never get the badges. I am not saying I'm one of the real winners. It's just when you think about bigger brands picking creative directors who are celebrities. There are so many great fashion designers who are perfect in their craft, and they could be so much higher up than they are, but there seems to be a war. And I don't know whether it has to do with aesthetics or social media. The times are different now. And it's a little bit sad, I love melancholy.
Does that melancholy translate into your designs?
It's like a very, very silly sadness. It is not like I'm crying, you know. Making clothes is one of the things that makes me happy. So I do like to have fun with that. I think fashion is fun, and it should be fun. It can be serious, but like, seriously fun. It doesn't have to be polka dots and frills for it to be fun. It could be a beautifully constructed, serious ball gown, you know, but that's fun. I bet wearing that feels really fun.
Speaking of fun, I love your Instagram. I like it when designers have just one Instagram and don't separate themselves from their work. It is very you, not just your brand.
Do you think so? I've been asked if I am myself before because I am not on Instagram that much.
I do have a question about your account: why is there the meat emoji in your bio?
Because it's raw. It's flesh and bone. I know the emoji is definitely cooked, but it's about bare bones, the beauty in that. It just felt correct. A piece of meat. I like that. I love emojis, to be honest.
The primary means of communication.
Yes. I’ve got very into them recently. My friends are probably confused because I never get any replies.
Your profile picture is the iconic screengrab from Diablo Cody's criminally underrated film Jennifer's Body, where Megan Fox smears her foundation all over her face. What is it about Jennifer's Body that resonates with you so much?
I'm a little bit obsessed with the idea of becoming something else. Going back to the Hannah Montana thing as well. That idea of transformation. But I don't know if that translates into my clothes. But yes, when I watched Jennifer's Body, it felt like it hit everything for me. That is the perfect movie for me. Like damn, I wouldn't change anything about it. I always think about changing my profile picture, but I have her face as a profile picture on all of my online accounts. That's me online.
I love the fashion in that film — Jennifer wearing extra-tight children’s clothes.
She literally wore a nine-year-old girl's Gap, which I love, and that was Megan Fox's idea. Everyone thinks she's stupid, but she's one of the smartest people. She is also nuts, but I think that is also intelligence. But yes, it's funny because I don't even think that kind of fashion is my vibe, but it's just so perfect. I love Diablo Cody. It also feels so wild that she also wrote Juno.
And Tully.
Oh yeah. One with Charlize Theron? I haven't seen that. I've thought about watching it, but it's about maternity, and I don't know if that's my vibe. I'm sure it's great. And she just did Lisa Frankenstein, which I really want to watch. I listened to a trailer the other day. I often listen to trailers, not music.
There is art to trailers.
I love the build. I know they do certain sounds that make you feel something, and I love that feeling of not knowing what is going to happen.
Exactly. Can you tell us about your latest collection, Oh The Gardens Are So Grey This Time Of Year?
I don't know if it's a departure, but I think it's very ready-to-wear, which crept up on me. It was definitely something that I have thought about in my frontal lobe like, I need to actually make clothes that people can buy. I might not necessarily care about that, but it's definitely important. I was meant to do it last year, but then I didn't because I put all of my energy into my Spring Summer collection, which, if I think of something perfect, I think that's perfect. I sometimes just look at the photos, and I'm like, this is my favourite thing. Even if it's this 10-piece collection and a bunch of tights.
This collection is part two. I have started to think about collections as if I were doing a play. Act One was Spring Summer, and Act Two is Autumn Winter. I was sitting at home watching TV and being like, what should I be? What should I do? And the idea of dressing up or playing characters was in my head. I watched Chicago again and Grey Gardens. I was watching a lot of John Waters and just silly things that didn't really make sense, but it all felt correct. It feels like a very light collection to me. The bottom line is that these are dolls I'm dressing up in different characters, which sounds really terrible. And I kind of hate that. I don't mean it as in dictating how women should dress. Because fuck that. And if you know me, you know that's not true at all. But yes, it was based on sound and posing. I have recently been thinking a lot about dancing and acting as a kid. And I've thought about doing that as a hobby again. I think people would say there is nostalgia in my work, but I don't see that. But then again, I'm talking about what I did as a kid, so maybe it does come through. But it's only nostalgic for me.
This collection is part two. I have started to think about collections as if I were doing a play. Act One was Spring Summer, and Act Two is Autumn Winter. I was sitting at home watching TV and being like, what should I be? What should I do? And the idea of dressing up or playing characters was in my head. I watched Chicago again and Grey Gardens. I was watching a lot of John Waters and just silly things that didn't really make sense, but it all felt correct. It feels like a very light collection to me. The bottom line is that these are dolls I'm dressing up in different characters, which sounds really terrible. And I kind of hate that. I don't mean it as in dictating how women should dress. Because fuck that. And if you know me, you know that's not true at all. But yes, it was based on sound and posing. I have recently been thinking a lot about dancing and acting as a kid. And I've thought about doing that as a hobby again. I think people would say there is nostalgia in my work, but I don't see that. But then again, I'm talking about what I did as a kid, so maybe it does come through. But it's only nostalgic for me.
You mentioned the theatrical aspect of your designs. There is versatility to your clothes. They can be styled as everyday pieces but also have the potential to be very theatrical. You've found a fine line between wearability and theatricality without making it costume. Do you consciously think about this when designing? Or does it come naturally?
I do notice when I make a collection how interchangeable everything is. That's probably because I design sets a lot of the time. I guess it's nice that you can pare it down. I'm yet to make a pair of jeans. I think about that a lot. Because I'm like, what is a Fraser Kenneth pair of jeans like? I don't know. But yeah, my work does have that aspect of interchangeability, which is surprising because I'm a look-by-look designer. Some designers make a certain number of pieces and then style them together at the end, whereas I think about everything going together. It does always creep up on me at the end that things can be styled in many different ways. It's definitely nicer to have a lot more to play with than nothing to play with.
Your work is very tactile and textural. Where do you source your fabrics? And how much do the materials dictate your process and the final design?
Yes. These are all such nice things. Because they're things, I think myself and no one else says. I get a lot of stuff on eBay, such as reworked or dead-stock stuff, scraps, old tablecloths, etc. And then I usually make piles of stuff that go together, per look and then I kind of just let it speak to me without sounding really lame. This is also why I don't have interns; I would miss that part of the fabric talking to me. For example, this corset I made recently was never meant to have a sleeve. But then I felt like a sleeve would look really cute. I wouldn't get that feeling if I gave the design to an intern. I said ages ago that it's all just shapes and lines and colours. And I used to really lean into this idea of fashion design as witchcraft. Which I still believe, because if I'm not feeling good, I can't make something because I feel like then I put negative energy into it. And then, the person who wears it would just have a bad time, which is probably just pure craziness. Also, recently, I found more confidence in the fact that I'm not a pattern cutter or a tailor. For me, it's all about colour and texture. So it's nice to see that that translates.
What about people? Do you have any muses? Rue Charlotte, who frequently appears in your campaigns, is one, I assume.
She's definitely one for sure. I don't know. What do people usually say to that question? I feel like I should say like a celebrity, but I don't have one. Everyone is like Marilyn Monroe, and I'm like, no, even though I love her. I was going to say something so lame, but it's the ocean. I don't know. It encapsulates everything. And just women in general, the feminine vibe, all of my friends, all of the women I know are definitely muses, even strangers and acquaintances. I really enjoy conviction. It does not matter if they are soft or hard. I don't mean like they're screaming and shouting; it's about the intention. I enjoy the intention and the authenticity of a person and the truth. Or the lies. Lies can be great sometimes.
Yes, observing people around you is incredibly underrated. I believe it was Donna Tartt talking about the benefits of writing in public spaces because if you need inspiration for a character, you can simply look up and find one.
I read that.
It could be the same when it comes to inspiration for design. It is about contextualising your work and thinking about who you actually design for. Speaking of which, who buys and commissions Fraser Kenneth pieces?
It's more so artists and musicians, creative people. Which makes sense.
Would you ever want to work within the fashion industry's traditional seasonal framework? Have you considered showing on schedule during fashion week?
I think so. I do want to do a runway show. It's funny. These are questions I've asked myself recently. Runway, definitely. And I would want to do a big performance. It's not that I don't care about the clothes; I just think the vibe is so much more important. That's the dumbest statement. But I could be dead in the ground with nothing to my name and zero money, and if everyone was like, "The clothes were so good", I'd be like, cool, job done, which I feel is very privileged to say. A storefront would be nice, but I don't think I make anything that could be sent to a factory, and like 10 could sell. I'd hate that. I want them all to feel different, which has helped me with design recently. Now, I have understood how to make a larger collection, like these ideations and explorations. That literally is a description of design. Have you heard of the quote from Rick Owens, which is like, you just have to make clothes and, like, shut the fuck up? And not do collages. I think about that every day. More so recently.
A daily affirmation.
Literally, I can hear him saying it in my head. But yes, I definitely want to do a runway, and that's my next big goal. It's just that I've helped at runway shows, and there are so many people, and I don't understand what they're all doing. But to be perfectly honest, I think the release of control is probably something I need to work on. Because I should not be micromanaging everything.
But when you have a strong, specific vision, it can be incredibly challenging to let go.
I end up hating everything as well. When you are that particular, you will just waste your own time. But I believe education should not be for sale. Like I would love to teach people. Whenever someone asks me to teach them how to sew, I am like, yes, of course. But then, when it comes to my own stuff and when there's something on the line, I don't know. Like, I have worked for someone, and then they put their trust in me, and I have turned up and done a good job. But then I'm like, it's because it's me. It's about finding the right fit. There are so many people in the world, and I have met people who I'm like, wow, you get it, you see it. And I work with people who read my brain better than I do. For some, it feels like the easy option, but that sounds like the hardest option to me. Because I've also been there, and as an intern, I've seen people get frustrated when I've done something wrong. But it's the industry. You just have to let go. I also have to stick to my guns because I literally said that fashion is fun. Yeah. And if I'm taking it so seriously, then I am a hypocrite. It's just clothes. If I sew something wrong, it's fine. No one necessarily gets everything right the first time. You can just unpick it and do it again, and it's like 20 minutes of your life. Like it's fine. It's literally fine. It's not going to kill you.
It's not life or death.
But isn't it crazy that that's what gets me through? I'm like, I'm not going to die. Like, I am good. It's fine.
I wanted to ask about your campaigns because they feel so fully fleshed out, with a strong narrative and vibe. Your collections, especially your SS24 Portrait of a Sunken Ship, are like books you cannot put down. They are so intricately detailed yet effortless. Can you tell me about the importance of narrative in your work? Does it develop later during styling and campaigns, or is it present from the very beginning when designing individual garments?
I love vibes. Everyone hates that word. I had that idea for Portrait of a Sunken Ship right at the end. I feel like that is how writers feel when writing a book. They probably don't always know the ending, or maybe they do. I've never written a book. But that's just getting to that stage and asking yourself the questions. This collection, I knew it was always going to be a wooden floor and brown backdrop. I was pretty set on it. And I mood-boarded it. I was writing kind of almost chapters. I think those ideas come when you step away from the work. That's really important. And I try to do that at the end — go out for dinner, get wasted, and just do something that does not require a brain. Going home and playing with my nieces and nephews and doing something completely different. I remember one time I went to Disneyland, and I got inspired by the hats with tubes coming out of them. Then I went back to do my thesis and did a skullcap with hair extensions all over it. I would never have had the idea if I had not seen this hat in Disneyland. But yes, I think you have to step away from your work sometimes.
And look beyond fashion. Yes, we love fashion history, but sometimes, the best ideas come from things that have nothing to do with fashion.
I try to watch everything and learn things that have nothing to do with fashion. I'll sit and watch random YouTube videos because you never know: there could be a song in it, or someone could say something that could lead you to something else. Going back to your earlier question about authenticity, it feels correct when inspiration comes that way because you haven't forced it. You've allowed yourself the breadth and time to explore.
Yes, taking time away is a crucial part of the creative process.
I used to really like the idea of, like, you know, you should hate the clothes by the end of it. They always used to say that in school: you know you've done your job when you look at it, and you hate it. But that is just so sad. There's just so many better, more positive ways to say that. That's some toxic shit. Suffer! Literally. It's this attitude of like if you're not crying, sleep deprived, fucking broke and hungry, what are you really doing here?
That, again, goes back to taking things too seriously.
I remember I used to get into so many fights, being like, I'm only one person. I'm helping a friend style their thesis right now, and that reminded me of my tutors at school saying so much random shit. They always used to be like, wouldn't it be great if you could just do this and that? And I'm like, god, with what money? With the deadline tomorrow? They are in the best position: they can say whatever they want. It can sometimes be a torture. But I signed up for that and paid for it.
Do you think attending fashion school helped you develop a thicker skin?
More like a numbness. I don't even know what's good or bad anymore. Recently, I've been thinking about going bungee jumping just to feel something. But then I also read something recently that said that if you do stuff like that, then everything else just becomes like so mundane. Yeah. And I'm like, great. But what does that feel like? Because it already feels like that. No, I don't hate life. I really do love life. I think life is really beautiful. Yeah, it's just some craziness. It's just like, guys, chill. I say wackadoodle so much. Because it's wackadoodle time.
It does feel like everything is becoming increasingly chaotic, and the fashion world is no exception. The relentless pace and the obsession with core aesthetics only add to the frenzy.
No personality core. Has not read a book core. Hasn't gone outside core. Like, what the fuck is that? I grew up with Tumblr. That was amazing. It was just peaceful and private — curation is for you. This is why I am like, wow, I am the smartest person in the whole entire world because I am like, that's how you live your life? Not to be mean, but that's really sad. But everyone needs something to believe in. And there are different people in the world for a reason. But also, I don't even get the whole celebrity thing. I've never been obsessed with a celebrity. There are people I really love, and I think they are great, but I don't get the whole fan culture. Maybe I'm just being a bitch snob, but I just don't get it.
There is a difference between being a full-blown fan of something and recontextualising something you admire in your work.
There is being influenced, and then there is just full-on copying. That's craziness. Maybe I am a massive hypocrite because, obviously, the Jennifer's Body thing, now that I'm thinking about it. But I do not necessarily want to be Jennifer or anything. I did dye my hair black, but it was already really really dark brown. It is more of like an aspirational vibe. Like, would I want to be a demon? Yeah. Would I want to be a boy-killing cheerleader? Yes. But I wouldn't do it the way she does it. I wouldn't kill my best friend's boyfriend. I also wouldn't wear that ugly prom dress. Because that's fucking horrendous. Needy's dress was great, though. I really liked it. I did like the big hair. A nicer point is to think that everyone needs something to believe in. And I think there's so much crazy shit out there. Maybe instead of being obsessed with another human being, go for a walk. But being inspired by something is not always bad; self-expression is never bad. It can be corny, cringe, and a waste of your time, but everyone does it. And there was probably a version I did when I was younger. That was less documented but probably just as insane.
What was that like?
I probably watched a movie and was like, I need to be like this. But I think the lesson is that you're meant to find yourself at the end of it. And then take the parts of it. Feeling a sense of security in being someone completely different or feeling like you can only exist because you're copying someone else, that's when it gets scary. I think that's when you need help.
A reality check.
Yeah, a big one. I mean, everyone needs a fucking reality check. I need one.
A slight digression, but as I look around at all the fabrics in your studio, I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into your mind.
Yes, textiles. My parents always decorated with mixed textiles, so I feel like the ornateness comes from my childhood home. I'm just thinking about that now — the disruption of something a little bit more grungy mixed with something refined.
What's your favourite fabric to work with? Some people hate working with leather, but I see you have some leather pieces here.
I used to be really into leather. The first collection I did at Parsons was all leather. It was very different from what I do now; it was very hyper. I was very into glam rock at the time; I was dressing like Mick Jagger. I did a lot of that, but now less so. I do love a taffeta; just gathering a taffeta is beautiful. I am not big on stretch fabric. But, again, when it feels right, it feels right.
What I love about your clothes is that there is an underlying femininity, but not in the traditional sense. Your models embody a spirit of defiance, like girls who have been dressed up in quote unquote girly clothes but go on to climb trees and tear them up. I enjoy this idea of turning ultra-feminine garments on their heads and creating a beautifully dishevelled look. The styling plays a huge role; individually, the pieces could be styled in a more conventional, pretty way, but together, they achieve this wonderfully chaotic aesthetic.
Yes. I do see that. You know, in horror movies, when the dress gets destroyed? I'm always like, that's great, looks really good.
There seems to be a continuity between your collections. For example, the stained tablecloth pannier from AW24 feels like an evolution of the panniers from SS24.
Do you think so? I feel like they are all so different. It keeps me up at night because I'm like, what am I really doing?
The silhouettes feel continuous.
The corset. I have not changed that pattern in like five years.
It's a great pattern. I have had the opportunity to try one of your corsets, and I love how comfortable it is while making you look snatched.
Thank you. Obviously, I see things that people don't see in my designs. I only recently just started adding boning. I've realised that I love randomness and eclecticism if that's what you want to call it. It all feels wrong, but it all feels right. Going back to the fabric thing, in school, they were like, this has to be used for that. And I've had to untrain myself. It's not the craziest thing, but I use a lot of upholstery fabrics. I also don't use that many traditional fabrics from a money point of view. People hate burlap, for example, people think it's poverty porn, but I am not using it like that. For example, I did this burlap piece based on Margiela's Dressmaker Bodice, and I called it Copycat Costume. I think that's relevant at the time when everyone is like, "You copied me!". And I'm like, guys, everyone's copying everyone. Literally, get over it. If you're under 50 and you think someone's fiercely stolen something from you, it's unlikely that that's true.
We're all looking at the same stuff online, and there are only so many ways to make clothes, so some overlap is inevitable.
That's also the thing. But, I have found confidence in the fact that no one has my brain and my hands. If someone gave me the same brief and the same fabrics, it wouldn't look the same as someone else's outcome.
So what's next? What are you working on currently?
I've started working on my SS25 collection. It will be quite different from AW24. It's such a big jump. But I've done a very muted collection, so the styling is going to be crazy for the next one. I hope I follow through because I feel like I have these ideas, but I don't follow through sometimes.
I think even if you don't fully follow through with an idea, it still translates and permeates the work.
Yes, I hope so. We will see!