Vincent Frédéric-Colombo wears many hats. Based in Paris, the designer of C.R.E.O.L.E — who also works as a creative director, casting director, DJ, music programmer, and co-founder of an iconic Parisian party collective, LA CREOLE — has a distinct flair for bringing people and cultures together.
Drawing upon his Guadeloupean heritage, Frédéric-Colombo’s work, in all its many forms, explores the aesthetic potential of Creole culture, which today embodies a fusion of influences from Africa, Europe, and Asia. He launched his independent label C.R.E.O.L.E in Paris in 2021, after spending the early years of his career working as a visual merchandiser for Kokon to Zai and a street caster for Vivienne Westwood.
For Frédéric-Colombo, C.R.E.O.L.E is something of a creative manifesto. Dedicated to Creole societies, cultures, styles, and communities, the label is known for its menswear and unisex collections that challenge perceptions of contemporary Creole aesthetics. We speak with the designer to learn more about his multifaceted practice as well as his vision for his body of work.
creole-7.jpg
Hi Vincent, how are you? How have your Paris Fashion Week experiences been so far?
Thank you for inviting me to METAL! I’m doing well, currently preparing my FW25 collection for January with my interns. As a small, emerging, and independent brand on the Paris Fashion Week calendar, I’ve been fortunate to see buyers and media closely following my progress since 2021. In particular, my debut on the official calendar in 2023 with SS24 was a significant milestone.
I’ve been incredibly lucky to receive early support from Loïc Prigent and Julien Da Costa, who were among the first to discover and document my work since the launch of my brand in 2021. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better start, and being part of the official calendar now feels like a major step forward. I’m both surprised and happy to see the growing attention for each collection.
Your practice is deeply grounded in Paris. What does the city mean to you?
I was born in Paris in August 1990, so I’ve always been a Guadeloupean in Paris since day one! I have a special connection with this city, where I feel effortlessly comfortable. For me, Paris represents freedom and opportunity, both as a queer person and as an artist. It’s a multicultural city that blends French and international communities in a unique and dynamic way. Paris is a fascinating clash of microcosms that coexist and influence one another, creating a vibrant and constantly evolving cultural landscape.
I know that you grew up in Guadeloupe until the age of eighteen. When you think about contemporary Creole style, what comes to mind?
The Guadeloupe Islands are where I grew up during my childhood and teenage years. I was raised in an insular space that observes the world while integrating a rich heritage and emerging influences such as Zouk, Konpa, Salsa, Dancehall, Ragamuffin, Bachata, Reggae, Soca, Rap, Hip-hop, French music, Telenovelas, Shatta, Bouyon and Carnival culture. All these elements shape the style of the society on various levels. We have what is called the Gaza style, Loulou style, or Uncle style, which contrast sensual and oversized silhouettes, conservative and sexy details, and a unique sense of colour combinations or layering, typical of the Afro-Latinx-Caribbean aesthetic. More recently, the Shatta style has emerged over the last decade, blending several of the musical and cultural references mentioned above. It’s rooted in an inter-tropical wardrobe, incorporating mesh, British embroidery (fancywork), workwear, oversized garments, and military references. This expresses a Creole style beyond the folkloric associations of Madras fabric.
You are a true creative — not only are you a designer, you’re also a stylist, a casting director, a DJ, and a music programmer. How do you stay inspired across such diverse creative outlets?
All these activities came to me at different moments when I challenged myself to help people or to promote my work with friends, like Fanny Viguier, my partner for the LA CREOLE collective. We first met online in 2013 while working on editorial projects.
I don’t really know how or why I do all these things, but I feel blessed to be able to do them. A bit like a self-made man, I’ve developed all these skills as ways to push people, and myself, out of our comfort zones. Over time, I realised that my touch was being recognised by others. For example, Vivienne Westwood's team contacted me in 2017 after Bernhard Willhelm shared my casting files with them. Similarly, Gaspard Noé reached out to me through a recommendation for a Travis Scott video clip. Sometimes, it’s just a random DM I receive, and my suggestions are taken seriously in a short amount of time.
One memorable moment was curating the main dancer character for a Rauw Alejandro music video in Paris. It’s funny, I often contribute as a ghost consultant, submitting profiles for projects where people don’t even know I’m behind the suggestions. Over the years, I’ve worked both behind the scenes and in the spotlight on various projects purely out of passion and a desire to challenge myself.
Amazing! Can you share about your DJing?
I’ve always loved music. At first, I started digging for tracks just for fun, but eventually, I gained the confidence to start DJing. I love clubbing across different scenes — from Afro-diasporic to warehouse raves, queer venues to conventional clubs. Dancing feels like a second language to me, so I’ve always felt at home in these spaces without overthinking it.
Through these experiences, I’ve built friendships with many DJs who loved my vibe and style, and who often became my customers. My journey into music programming began when I curated playlists for the Kokon To Zai store in Paris. I was also part of the team that organised the store’s afterparties during Fashion Week. This experience gave me foundational knowledge about the organisational aspects of an event, from constructing a lineup to selecting talents aligned with a concept. These lessons proved invaluable later when Fanny and I launched LA CREOLE.
And it all links back to the fashion brand, right?
This background also helps me today with my brand, allowing me to create something truly unique in the staging of my shows. I often contribute to the musical composition alongside talented production friends like anyoneID, who created the soundtrack for my latest runway show, Magma 76.
The worlds of nightlife and fashion constantly intertwine in my creative practices. As one of my design professors once said, “You just have to learn to observe things in reverse to better understand them the right way.” This mindset has stayed with me and influences how I approach my work today.
I trust my instincts, and my clients trust my vision. Nightclubs have always been spaces where I find interesting profiles, from eccentric personalities to stylish individuals. Sometimes, I spot them on the street, at parties, or even at Kokon To Zai, which was a magnet for great DJs, artists, producers, promoters, and stylists.
In many ways, I didn’t have to try too hard at the beginning because Kokon To Zai placed me on the front line of an incredible energy. It was a magnetic spot in Paris, a hub like no other, that became my life school and laid the foundation for my career.
Let’s talk about your label C.R.E.O.L.E. Tell me about the vision behind this brand. What does it represent?
My label, C.R.E.O.L.E, is a creative manifesto dedicated to Creole societies, cultures, styles, and communities. With a historical, political, and queer perspective, I aim to reshape the narrative around contemporary Creole aesthetics, spanning from menswear to unisex wardrobes. I don’t claim to have created something entirely new; my mindset is rooted in contributing to a movement of creatives who have rarely been identified with a strong, distinct DNA in fashion. The disinterest in our presence, relegated to the shadows of others, pushes me to speak louder — always striving for a level of quality and execution that I hope will leave a lasting mark.
Creole originally emerged as an adjective during the era of slavery to describe people born in colonies or anything originating from them. Over time, however, it has evolved from being a mere descriptive term to embodying a more global and cultural identity.
Today, Creole represents the fusion of influences: African, European, Indigenous, and Asian, that define the cultures of those who have lived through colonial histories. It speaks to resilience, adaptation, and a unique ability to transform trauma into creativity.
In embracing the term, I aim to show how its original stigma can be reshaped into a symbol of pride, strength, and cultural richness, without ignoring or erasing the complexities of its past. C.R.E.O.L.E is about bringing this evolution into the spotlight, exploring its aesthetic potential, and giving it a place in contemporary fashion.
In the context of your brand, the world is also an acronym for Conscience Relative à l'Émancipation Outrepassant Les Entraves (which roughly translates as Consciousness Relating to Emancipation Overcoming Obstacles). Could you tell us more about it?
I chose to play with this acronym in addition to the original meaning of the word creole because the spectrum of these cultures is often limited and disconnected from the way we feel about them today. The concept of créolité or creolisation is deeply contemporary but often misunderstood if you’re not familiar with it. Thinkers like Édouard Glissant and Aimé Césaire worked to create academic frameworks to showcase the beauty and complexity of this shared history.
I want to contribute, in my own humble way, to reframing the often exoticised vision of tropical territories that were colonised, not from a victim’s perspective, but one of resilience and creativity. C.R.E.O.L.E. can be interpreted in many ways, but its primary goal is to open up narratives from these small territories that have influenced the world through music, sports, art, lifestyle, and carnival. However, our sense of fashion is often overlooked or misrepresented by mainstream media. It’s important to explore the complexity of these societies and communities, which have created rituals, languages, dance, music, and style during some of the most chaotic moments in history, often with very limited resources.
I read that you studied sociology and anthropology in school. How have your studies informed your approach to design and curation?
This escale (stopover in English) on my creative cursus has been something really refreshing. It’s helped me understand how society, and groups of people from both mainstream and alternative culture, have created a logic of interaction, codes and rules. Fashion is like a mirror that questions these codes. It can build trends, standards, imagery, and fantasy around them. Fashion is an industry of illusion that can transform aesthetics to create new tribes.
You explore POC and queer identities through your clothes, so I assume that designing and dressing are political acts to you. Is there always a recurring message, or do you try to tackle different topics and issues depending on the collection or garment?
I try with every collection to express a sense of freedom and fearlessness. As a queer artist, it’s really important for me to convey messages to the world, messages that may even outlast me. Creativity is unpredictable, and each story or message I integrate into my collections through themes, details, casting, music, or silhouettes may seem like a narcissistic vision. But in reality, it’s an attempt to reframe norms. I wouldn’t engage in this creative process if I didn’t experience frustration. Frustration, in fact, can be a powerful energy, stronger than fear, for driving change. I often seek references from my generation that inspire pride and empowerment. Growing up in an industry where people look at you as an exception, even when your ideas are good, creates a bigger battle than you might expect. Even your parents can feel the weight of that fight. It’s challenging, but it’s also fascinating to watch the spectrum of acceptance shift, however slowly.
The examples of progress often come from America or Africa. In Europe, progressive ideas seem slower to gain approval, especially for outcasts. The contributions of minorities should not be limited to entertainment or freak shows. That era should be behind us. Now, it’s about taking a seat at the table and updating the references. I want and need more people like me to claim their narratives and prove their value, no matter the difficulties. Ten years ago, I began this small dream of creating something rooted in my culture because I felt it wasn’t being addressed on a meaningful level. Fashion from the Caribbean was either heavily focused on womenswear with limited offerings or reduced to a folkloric perspective.
Before seeing the emergence of names like Grace Wales Bonner, Martine Rose, Bianca Saunders, Botter, Nicholas Daley, Marvin M’Toumo, Marvin Desroc, Eric Lebon, Fabien Zou, Gregory Assad, Hercule Studio, Dash and Zephyr, Maryse Seigu or diemm in the fashion world, I didn’t feel that Caribbean-inspired fashion truly existed. I’ve been naturally drawn to clothing since a young age, without specific knowledge of fashion, just the joy of expressing myself. This industry is unique: regardless of your background, you can say something to the world through garments, images, casting, set design, music, craftsmanship, parties, or even unknown people on the Internet. Today, I’m surprised and humbled to have become a reference for upcoming fashion students.
So how do you want people to feel when they wear a C.R.E.O.L.E garment?
It might sound cliché, but in a good way, I want people who wear C.R.E.O.L.E. garments to feel confident. That confidence could express itself in a queer way or simply come from the way the cut fits them perfectly, or how the pattern feels visually appealing. I aim to create an effortless statement by balancing sexiness, timelessness, and a powerful aesthetic. There’s something special about feeling like you belong to a tribe, recognising a connection through the cut, the pattern, the attention to detail, or the colour palette. I want my designs to evoke that sense of identity and pride in the wearer.
Many argue that fashion is shallow and meaningless, but designers like you prove that this is not the case. However, there is a more carefree, less serious element to it that we can’t deny. How do you keep a balance between commitment and playfulness?
To me, the most important quality for a casting director is the ability to bring the client’s vision to life. Often, the brief we receive can be very simple or even vague, so it’s essential to interpret the client’s intentions and translate them into creative and meaningful casting choices. A good casting director needs to be open-minded and visionary, able to see the potential in all kinds of profiles, even those that might not fit the initial brief. Each character contributes to the narrative, helping to create an authentic and believable story. Personally, whether it’s for my work or for the client, I always look for the soul in people and aim to move beyond conventional beauty standards. It’s about finding individuals who bring depth and uniqueness to the project, adding something extraordinary to the final vision.
What have been the most rewarding moments in your work so far?
My contribution as an emerging designer to the festive scene of the opening ceremonies at the Paris Olympic Games was both unexpected and blissful. Being considered as a designer for such a significant international moment and dressing performers for the memorial scene of the ceremony was truly humbling. I kept it a secret until the last minute, even from my family and my little sister, whom I live with. For the first time, I genuinely felt that my parents were proud of my work — and proud of their son. Representing my brand as an ambassador was an idea proposed by Daphné Bürki and approved by Thomas Jolly. I was the only designer of colour, and also the only representative from the French overseas territories, to be part of this group of French designers showcasing the Parisian and French creative scene. I didn’t ask why they chose me; I simply went with the flow because, at the end of the day, you never know how your work will be received.
I come from Guadeloupe, a small archipelago in the Caribbean and a former French colony, where fashion rarely has a prominent place. The islands have never had a true fashion ambassador on the global stage, and for me to symbolise that felt monumental. It placed me alongside names like Marie-José Pérec, Teddy Riner, and Axelle Saint-Cirel. It was also the first time local news reached out to mention my work and my participation in such a significant event. In the Caribbean, fashion isn’t often taken seriously, it’s seen more as a hobby with little potential for real evolution. But this moment, broadcast on a global stage, entered in history and will become a new reference point in the minds of many. I experienced it with a lot of humility and perspective, knowing that it was bigger than just me. It was a symbol for others, and I never imagined I could represent that for so many people. This event gave me validation and a sense of approval. I’m a hard worker, and I know it won’t be my last big moment!
Looking ahead, what are your aspirations for the future? Are there any specific projects coming up that you can share with us?
I still have a lot to accomplish, but I trust the universe to guide me toward what’s coming my way. I do have some exciting projects lined up. For instance, a fashion movie directed by my friend Tansi Makele is planned to be shot in 2025. There are also some deals currently under discussion, and I’m thrilled about designing costumes for an artist’s upcoming tour. Additionally, on January 25th, my next show will take place at the Palais de Tokyo during Paris Fashion Week. One of my aspirations is to create pieces that could eventually be included in museum archives, a way to manifest something timeless and significant for the world to see.
creole-11.jpg
creole-10.jpg
creole-3.jpg
creole-8.jpg
creole-9.jpg
creole-4.jpg
creole-6.jpg
creole-2.jpg
creole-1.jpg
creole-12.jpg