I support you, working-class designers
For this series, we turn our attention to London’s working-class designers shaping fashion from the ground up. For all their talk of openness, fashion is still defined by barriers that decide who gets access, and who doesn’t.
Owen Edward Snaith is weaving new narratives into Scottish craft
PHOTOGRAPHY Charlie Barclay-Harris
This interview features as part of BRICKS #15 I Support You issue’s Portrait series. You can view the full series here, and order an issue now from our online store.
Owen Edward Snaith builds his work from the intersections of place, craft and identity. Raised in a small fishing community on Scotland’s East coast, his early experiences growing up queer in a rural environment continue to shape the narratives within his collections. Working closely with Scottish craftspeople, from kiltmakers to weavers, Snaith draws on heritage techniques to construct garments that balance tradition with fluidity. His designs combine a menswear sensibility with flamboyant colour and experimental cutting, creating pieces that honour Scotland’s craft traditions while reimagining them through a contemporary queer lens.
Alongside his fashion practice, Snaith is currently developing Interweaving Threads, a year-long research project exploring the textile traditions of Scotland and Norway and the urgent need to preserve the craftspeople who keep these histories alive.
Below, we meet the Scottish designer to discuss mentorship, sustaining an independent practice and why showing up for the next generation matters.
Owen wears full outfit: Owen Edward Snaith, shoes: Salomon X-T Whisper
Has there been a moment where someone’s support tangibly changed your path?
I have had a lot of moments throughout my creative journey where someone’s support has really changed my path. One of the many situations that springs to mind is when Prof. Jonathan Faiers reached out and selected me to be a part of the V&A Dundee’s blockbuster exhibition Tartan, curated and inspired by Faiers’ book by the same title. His wife, Dr Dellores Laing-Faiers, taught me cultural studies at university, and the connection sprang from there. I was just freshly graduating when the exhibition opened, and it really propelled my work and practice into a community of makers and designers that I had looked up to for years. The opportunities that came from being a part of the exhibition, such as working with drag icon Cheddar Gorgeous and speaking alongside people like Louise Grey, have created and underpinned the foundation of my practice and business, allowing my work and story to reach not just the people of Scotland or London but such a wider international audience.
What’s the least glamorous part of sustaining a career in fashion right now?
I would say the least glamorous part of sustaining a career in the fashion industry at the moment is having to be the whole team every day. As a small independent business, I don’t have the financial means to employ people on a full-time basis. The result is that at times I am the pattern cutter, machinist, designer, socials and production manager, which does not allow a lot of time to really sit down and think about the next steps. It’s extremely fast-paced and allows very little time for you to reflect and appreciate the successes of the work you are creating. I think a lot of people who are ‘observers’ of the industry think it’s highly glamorous, with parties every night and fabulous ‘things’ (which sometimes it is), but the day-to-day reality is a lot of late nights and work. One of the best things I ever heard was that fashion is like an iceberg; the peak is what everyone sees, but under the water, it doubles in size, and there’s more going on than meets the eye.
The least glamorous part of sustaining a career in the fashion industry at the moment is having to be the whole team every day. As a small independent business, I don’t have the financial means to employ people on a full-time basis. The result is that at times I am the pattern cutter, machinist, designer, socials and production manager, which does not allow a lot of time to really sit down and think about the next steps.
Who are you designing with in mind when you’re working?
When I design, I am really thinking about the story and design first, then editing and adapting it to the muse or customer I have in mind, varying depending on the inspiration or project, but always with people who care about craftsmanship at the forefront. I like to think that my customer is like a chameleon; I think it always comes back to queer individuals or people who feel they are on the outskirts of mainstream society. The pieces are a real exploration of identity, and I think that I am always thinking about people who have a real strong sense of self, they certainly aren’t scared of colour, and aren’t afraid to make a statement both politically or decadently. I like to imagine the ‘person’ wearing a piece to dinner and then straight to the club, appropriate from 5pm to 8am, that’s the person, and that’s their uniform. I love watching people, and I think nothing would bring me more joy than seeing my pieces on their way out on a Friday and then on their way home on a Sunday.
What are/were you doing alongside your creative work to keep it sustainable in the early days?
When I graduated, I was still working on my own practice and creative development whilst working at a manufacturing studio, which really allowed me to develop my construction skills and see the inner workings of how a more commercial lead product was developed. I also then worked for an independent London designer as a studio assistant and manager, gaining vital skills in working in a small hands-on team and having the opportunity to have on-the-ground experience across the whole business. These two main roles were primarily for me to be able to fund my work, but I also found them deeply informative and allowed me to develop my own business while learning.
Since last summer, I have been working on my own practice and brand more full-time. Taking the leap to really commit was scary, but I knew it had to be done for me to enjoy the work and get it to where I know it can be. I still freelance doing sewing and studio work as well as work at different universities, the bills still have to be paid, and in the current climate, it’s hard to be a full-time creative. I don’t have a financial backup or a trust fund to tap into, which means I have to make it work. It’s not easy, but I really pride myself on my work ethic, and I don’t think I would have achieved what I have to date if I always knew there was a financial safety net in my parents’ or savings.
It’s not easy, but I really pride myself on my work ethic, and I don’t think I would have achieved what I have to date if I always knew there was a financial safety net in my parents’ or savings.
What does meaningful support actually look like in fashion right now?
I think that meaningful support in fashion right now is people showing up. I have been very lucky to find amazing friends and mentors not just in fashion but in creative academia, heritage crafts and art that continue to really champion my work and connect or create opportunities that I would otherwise not have. The industry can be a complete minefield for young people, especially for those who do not have the financial means to start a brand straight out of uni or who grew up in London. I think it is really important that support is available and given to those individuals; it often takes just that one door being opened for the ball to start rolling. I know that I work hard and have something to say, but I would not be where I am without the support of people who have guided me and given me space in rooms that I would not have had access to. I definitely think that meaningful, vital support is also needed financially but I truly believe that having people who want to give time to young creatives, offer them opportunities and nurture their talents is most important right now.
How do you support others coming up behind you?
If there is a person who needs my help, I am always happy to do it. I am a very open person and really care about creative education and industries. We are in such a scary time for young creatives, and the support is not always there. I love sharing my skills and knowledge in any way I can, making sure that people are constantly learning and developing their craft, working through obstacles and understanding the industry.
Gatekeeping in the fashion industry is such a toxic and common trait; a lot of people are protective and scared of losing their position, as a result, they become short-sighted and destructive to the positive work that is being done. I have built a really amazing community and network of people in such a wide range of creative industries, and I truly believe it’s not just for myself; I’m happy to connect people whenever I can. I always aim to be approachable and share my network with the people coming up behind me, connecting them with rural crafts and making sure that I am promoting the amazing people who make my practice possible. I wouldn’t have my career without the guidance of amazing people who came before me, and I want to make sure that I continue to do that for the people behind me.
We are in such a scary time for young creatives, and the support is not always there. I love sharing my skills and knowledge in any way I can, making sure that people are constantly learning and developing their craft, working through obstacles and understanding the industry.
What moment have you been most proud of in your career, and how did you celebrate it?
One of the proudest moments in my career was when I had my tartan ‘Incentive’ fully registered on the Scottish tartan register. That cloth really is an exploration of my identity and not just mine, but of so many young queer people growing up in small rural towns or villages. It is also inspired by the landscape that I grew up around, the fisherfolk of Dunbar and the wider east coast and most importantly, my grandad, Eddie Johnstone. The inspiration behind most of my work stems from him, the stories he would tell me growing up and being with him at the harbour or seeing him making nets. To be able to dedicate part of my work to him and be able to create something that will bond us forever is something that makes me extremely proud. I celebrate this success every time I get to share my work and create something with my tartan. To share my story, seeing people connect with it and wear the cloth to represent their own identity or story is a celebration every time and will always fill me with pride.
You place a strong emphasis on working with Scottish craftspeople whose skills are at risk of disappearing, from kiltmakers to weavers. What does it mean to reinterpret those heritage traditions through a contemporary queer lens?
It means the world to me to be able to work with such highly skilled craftspeople and collaborate with them through my practice, fusing their traditional skills with my own, through a more contemporary queer lens. I have used my practice to work through a lot of my experiences growing up in a small, tight-knit community, good and bad, as well as feeling at times alienated from my own heritage. I think that through my work with heritage crafts, I have been able to understand my own identity and weave my queer self into the more traditional communities and skills that I have been surrounded by from a young age.
I also think that now more than ever, it is vital to continue to collaborate with traditional craftspeople to help diversify and modernise their markets and clientele. It is important that young designers and makers are helping to connect these more rural craftspeople with metropolitan makers, promoting them through their work and social media to bridge the gap, ensuring that these highly skilled crafts and people do not go extinct.
Now more than ever, it is vital to continue to collaborate with traditional craftspeople to help diversify and modernise their markets and clientele.
The government does not seem to want to take action to ensure that heritage crafts are funded appropriately, yet it still wants to brag about how amazing they are globally. It’s really inspiring to see first-hand the work that Gordon and Louise Nicolson of Edinburgh Kiltmakers Academy are doing around training and employing kiltmakers. They are actively working to drive kiltmaking away from near extinction and show how this deeply traditional craft is still highly valuable in a world where technology is replacing such skills. To be able to collaborate with them and know them is an honour.
I think that perhaps queer and minority individuals feel that they may not be able to connect with such ‘traditional’ makers as they are in smaller, rural communities where they don’t feel accepted or seen. I hope that through my work, I am chipping away at that myth.
Could you talk about the process behind creating your tartan ‘Incentive’, and what it meant to dedicate it to the fisherfolk and queer youth of Scotland’s east coast?
The initial idea to create the ‘Incentive’ tartan came about as I wanted to find a way to create an alternative narrative to Scottish freedom. A narrative that spoke to both my own queer identity and community, as well as the fisherfolk I am inspired by, allowing me to fuse key aspects of my own story and heritage.
I was looking through previous work and found a series of mixed media collages that I created, inspired by tartan and Scottish textiles. These works were the springboard that led to the form of the design, referred to as the set. I then took these to my incredibly talented handweaver Claire (Taffled Threads based in Alloa, Scotland), who helped develop these into more formal weaving CADs. The colours were inspired by both the landscape of Dunbar and the LGBTQ+ flag, for example:
Orange represents the shellfish and fishing nets, as well as healing
Green for the seaweed and moss, as well as nature
Turquoise for the paint of the boats, as well as magic and art
Pink is the final colour, which represents my own identity weaving into the wider picture, also representing sex.
I loved the process of working with Claire and understanding the skill of handweaving. The yarn is Scottish wool, and I was highly conscious of making sure that the tartan was true to itself and its surroundings. The name ‘Incentive’ is really a dedication to my grandad and the fishing boat that served him till his retirement. The name ‘Incentive’ truly spoke to all aspects of the cloth.
It is a truly rare and special moment to be able to create something and have it officially recognised for the rest of time, especially when you are able to dedicate it to people and communities that are so integral to who you are. I have massive respect for both the fisherfolk I grew up around and the queer community. I hope that it helps to make that ‘odd’ queer individual growing up on the east coast of Scotland who doesn’t feel they belong, know that they are loved and seen, that they belong and are important to their heritage.
William Palmer launched his namesake label in 2025 after graduating from Central Saint Martins, where he was awarded the L’Oréal Prize.
Rooted in a distinctly British sensibility, the brand combines clean silhouettes with playful humour. Drawing on everyday suburban life, 90s and early-2000s menswear, and mischief, Palmer reimagines familiar forms with subtle exaggeration and unexpected twists.
Sharp cuts, strong fabrics, and metal logo hardware ground the humour in serious menswear construction. William Palmer celebrates vulnerability, chaos, and joy, offering a distinctly British wardrobe that knows when to behave and when to misbehave.
In terms of support, what did winning the L’Oreal Prize mean to you, did it boost confidence and also getting money when design// fashion is so difficult to break into. What did your collection include? What was your inspiration or piece you were most proud of?
Winning the L’Oréal Prize must have been a huge moment at a time when breaking into fashion can feel quite precarious. How did that support shape what felt possible for you, both creatively and financially? And from that collection, is there a look or piece you still feel proud of?
WIJNRUIT –
Winruit was founded in 2021 by multidisciplinary creative Jewel Kaye. The Boys Don't Cry member predominantly works across painting, collage, creative direction, styling and garment making. Kaye has used creativity as an outlet to keep him sane since an early age. Kaye added designing to his repertoire in early 2015 when he started designing clothes in New York under a mentor who helped him learn and develop in a non-traditional way. After returning to the UK; he moved to London, refining his techniques, simply by experimenting.
Although Wijnruit may be considered a menswear brand, each piece is designed without gender in mind. Wijnruit is an exploration of archetypes found in past and present subcultures and the mythology surrounding them. Experimenting with a broad array of silhouettes with an onus on freedom of expression. Rugged industrial garment construction alongside hyper jubilant swipes of colour, find harmony in juxtaposition with a softer sumptuous side. Each unique one-of-one garment is handmade in London.
Your bio mentions the non-traditional techniques you experimented with under a mentor in New York. What did that look like in practical terms, and what did it mean to have that kind of guidance at that stage?
Founded by 21 year old Izadora Hodges in 2023, ARODAZI is still just a baby.
Essex born and London raised Izadora had gone on a solo mission around Asia, predominantly India, somewhere that has a great space in her heart. Ironically, throughout her journey and as it was nearing its end, she was lost, and had always dreamt of starting a brand. Stumbling across a man called Vinay, a manufacturer - she started designing...
ARODAZI clothes are manufactured in India in a small independent factory just outside the main city of Pushkar, Rajasthan.
Working closely with the team is something ARODAZI believes is imperative, to understand the initial idea and collaborate together to create the perfect silhouettes, fits and materials.
You’ve described feeling lost at the end of your journey through Asia. Meeting Vinay, a manufacturer, seemed to spark your interest in designing and in collaborating with a team and manufacturers. What did you learn through that relationship that acted as a catalyst for your new journey into design?
A happy florist passionate about upcycling fashion, styling and art direction
Working as a florist alongside your fashion practice feels like a different kind of creative support system, bringing a different relationship to colour, structure and composition. Has that experience influenced the way you think about clothing and image-making?
No bio thus far but I love this Instagram post showing hand-drawing the designs
The hand-drawn designs in your work are stunning, they feel almost mythological, somewhere between a nightmare and a dream. How do you come up with these designs, and what is the practical experience of working on each individual piece?
Follow up: Do you have a design that has particularly stayed with you, or has an interesting back story you’d like to share?
You’ve spoken about the power in shaping your identity from the cultural layers that resonate with you, from your Igbo heritage to reconnecting with your Italian side through materials sourced in Florence. What does it mean to you to bring those together in your designs, and how do you hope the wearer experiences that?
No bio but some good Reels for info: here, here,
Owen Edward Snaith started his eponymous label in 2022. Snaith's work started off as an expression of his experience growing up queer in a small rural fishing community on the East Coast of Scotland. A poetic queer thread weaves throughout the work, which is grounded in craftsmanship, collaboration, and community. These threads informed Snaith’s research and making processes, throughout which he referred back to archival objects, imagery and poetry which was then collaged together in a manner akin to a family album to inform draping, cut, silhouette and embellishments. The work has since then evolved and shape-shifted into a wider exploration of identity and the environment Snaith now finds himself navigating.
Collections are designed with a menswear sensibility but retain a sense of fluidity in their construction. These intentional design features are intended to guarantee that garments can adapt to the shape or gender of the vessel wearing them. Traditional menswear elements seen across Snaith’s work contrast with flamboyant colours and obscure cutting heavily influenced by the androgynous uniforms of 1980s club culture. There is a strong emphasis throughout the brand of experimental surface design, including through print, appliqué and traditional textile techniques to create and convey a combination of tales and histories.
No matter how much Snaith's work evolves, at the core is a love for Scotland and the ancient skills that are so intrinsic to Scottishness. The opportunity to work with and build a community of craftspeople whose unique skill sets are nearing extinction is a highlight of Snaith's process. These collaborations have seen and continue to see him work with kiltmakers, jewellery designers, handknitters and weavers. Such collaborations notably led to the birth of Snaith’s own tartan named ‘Incentive’. Now fully registered on the Scottish tartan register, the cloth is dedicated to all the fisherfolk & queer youth of the Scottish east coast.
Owen Edward Snaith has featured in a number of notable publications such as Bricks, The Greatest, The Guardian, Elle Italia, WWD, The New York Times, Vogue, ShowStudio and The Scotsman. Snaith was also featured in the blockbuster V&A Dundee Tartan exhibition which seen him continue to work with V&A Dundee in the form of a commission with drag icon Cheddar Gorgeous, museum ‘takeover’ with illustrator Katie Braid and a panel discussion discussing queerness in relation to cloth at the exhibition’s closing symposium. The featured look has since been bought by the Westminster Menswear Archive.
Further recent successes include the launch of Snaith's second collection “The Eye in the Cave”, from which a key piece appeared on the singer Anne Marie’s album cover, and his first RTW collection “Night at The Glebe”. These collections were featured in publications including Vogue Scandinavia, British Vogue and 10 Magazine. 10 Men Magazine additionally published an edition in their “10 Meets” series on the namesake brand.
You place a strong emphasis on working with Scottish craftspeople whose skills are at risk of disappearing, from kiltmakers to weavers. What does it mean to build a contemporary queer fashion practice through traditions that are often associated with heritage and preservation?
Follow up: Could you talk about the process behind creating your tartan ‘Incentive’, and what it meant to dedicate it to the fisherfolk and queer youth of Scotland’s east coast?
BRICKS 24 DAYS OF MAKERS BIO: Layal, the London-based Arab fashion designer behind the brand, is someone who takes unseriousness very seriously. Inspired by nostalgia and the absurdities of human experience, her work highlights the female body through odd yet intentional silhouettes, always tucking cultural references behind the humour.
You’ve described fashion as being less about perfection and more about presence grounded in touch, memory and everyday human interactions. How do those small, intimate moments translate into the way you design a garment?