Moshe Yossel, who has had a hammer in his hand since childhood, did not just grow up among architects, he also learnt how to build. Based in New York, the designer transforms his architectural knowledge and production experience gained in workshops into garments that prioritise simplicity and character. Interpreting the harshness of brutalist aesthetics through form and silence, Yossel creates a kind of intensity that contains emotion with his clothes.
You grew up around architects, engineers and people working with textiles. Was there a moment early on when you realised you were more into making things than just observing them?
From my earliest memories, I had a hammer and nail in hand. My father taught me so much about architecture and carpentry that it became second nature to me. When I realised I might not have the capabilities to be as impactful an architect as I'd dreamed of being., I chose to channel that passion into the architecture of clothing instead.
Your brand talks about austerity, resilience and dexterity. These are not just nice words. How do those ideas actually show up when you are designing or building a collection?
When designing, I let the garment speak for itself rather than relying on excessive hardware or adornment. I take a minimal approach, prioritising shape and silhouette as the primary design elements. My focus is on construction techniques that will support wearers for years, creating resilience through durability. Every piece must have a tangible connection to its maker, whether it’s a collection sample for a lookbook or inventory for customers. When selling truly handmade goods, you must pour yourself into each garment to give the wearer something genuinely unique.
Brutalism is not exactly known for being warm or wearable. What is it about that style that speaks to you, and how do you make it feel human in the form of clothing?
Brutalism strongly influences my work for several reasons. It could be something as simple as my perspective that straight lines are generally more flattering on the body than curved ones. Or, the fact there is something quite compelling about brutalist elements standing out in a crowd. The decision to make my most recent collection all black was also deeply influenced by these ideas.
You have done the real hands-on work. Pattern cutting, production, time in factories. How does that experience shape the way you design now?
Working in factories alongside the people making these garments has been invaluable. I always knew I would eventually develop something of my own, and there's no better way to learn than being in the field. These various roles taught me essential techniques and instilled the strong characteristics necessary to work in the industry.
Your garments are said to respond to their environment. That sounds lovely but what does it actually mean when someone wears one on a wet day in London or through a packed station?
Garments are crafted to become an extension of your body, like a second skin that protects you from the world. The fit and construction provide the dexterity to navigate a packed London station or trek the streets of Paris. The structural integrity of the garment can withstand daily life, and we consider any natural wear part of its story.
There is a strong structure in how you build clothes. Do you think you approach a jacket the same way someone would approach a building?
I'm deeply logistics-focused, and need to develop well-orchestrated plans to accomplish my tasks. That same approach applies to the way I design. My training as a menswear patternmaker taught me strict rules of construction. Whether apparel or architecture, everything requires a strong foundation to support both the structure and the people who use it.
You have spoken about valuing longevity over trends. When people are buying full looks from TikTok or high street drops, how do you make them care about something built to last?
I see two types of fashion consumers: those who are in fashion and those who are into fashion. People in fashion understand apparel quality and business practices through industry education. Those into fashion, often influenced by media like TikTok, may lack this knowledge. I believe that companies need to better educate their consumers about what they're buying in order to encourage better purchasing habits.
Have you come across any fabrics or ways of making recently that felt like a perfect match for your ideas?
In developing samples for my next collection, I find myself more excited about the capabilities of a material than the materials themselves. I am always eager to experiment with different fabrics, learning how to construct them into my desired shapes and silhouettes. Working with shearlings and fur is particularly exciting to me. Learning techniques from a furrier makes all the difference.
You often speak about form, shadow and movement. Do you think about how your clothes catch the light in a real setting, like walking into a room or standing on a street corner?
Having lived in New York for many years, I'm more compelled by a sharp, slim leather jacket on a dimly lit, gritty Lower East Side street corner than something manufactured, like a red carpet.
What do you think is exciting in menswear at the moment, and what feels like it is still being overlooked?
I find it exciting how men are becoming more confident in how they dress, something we haven't seen until recently. This creates opportunities to have a more inclusive community. While menswear has always had strict dress codes, questioning them and allowing experimentation is essential.
Out of all the pieces you have made, which one feels the most personal to you? Not the most popular one, just the one that came straight from you.
For a while, I’ve studied men's uniform dress from WWII, feeling a deep connection to this period as a young Jewish man. I've become fond of the different uniform styles from this era, which I hope you can see reflected in the collection. The Chansonnette coat is made from micro cord corduroy that reminded me of a blanket my grandmother cut and sewed for my mother during her time at sleepaway camp. When I reflect on all the styles in the collection, this piece feels the most symbolic, with both its interpretation of WWII dress and the sentimental connection to my grandmother.
If we opened your sketchbook or your phone notes right now, what kinds of shapes or ideas would we keep seeing again and again?
My sketchbook is quite uniform. I've never been one for messy sketches with material cuttings falling out. I do small drawings that only I can understand, then make the patterns. You might see a lot of a silhouette that includes an A-line skirt construction with a slim upper body and waistband. This slim-to-flared proportion separated by a waistband projects a heroic image, reminiscent of standard issue field jackets worn by US soldiers in combat.
Do you think the rise of AI and generated fashion is making people turn back to clothes with texture and intention, like how people still go for records or old football shirts?
Despite the last few years being more turbulent., I believe the conscious customer still exists. Growing numbers of consumers are changing their purchasing habits for various reasons. While many still buy clothing out of necessity without considering its origins or development, the responsibility is on the apparel industry as a whole to provide the better choices rather than the easier ones.
When you think about the next few years, where do you want Moshe Yossel to go? Do you want to keep it small and steady or are you hoping to open up bigger conversations in menswear?
Being small and steady puts us in a strong position. We're staying independent, and we cut and sew almost everything in-house. This takes solid infrastructure, and we've invested heavily in the right equipment for our atelier. The next few years are about continuing to build our strong foundation. Once it's set, we'll be ready for bigger conversations.
