Let’s begin with the title of the collection—JNN D’RC feels cryptic, almost like a code. What does it signify for you?
Jeanne d’Arc is a well-known historical figure; her story has been told by many, but never by herself. Apparently, she is a witch, a warrior, a saint, a rebel, a feminist, a devout Catholic, and many more, and all at the same time. It got me thinking: How many times are gaps filled in a narrative to paint a specific picture? I left out the vowels of the J(ea)nn(e) d’(A)rc name for that reason. We don’t need the whole name to assume who is meant and who they are.
How did you approach the research of visual material for this collection? Were you working with existing archives, memory or something else entirely?
I developed some of the design elements over the years. I love my long button rows and puffy sleeves! During the material research for the JNN D’RC collection, I found myself dyeing coffee bean bags and combining them with silk fabrics. The combination of royal shapes and this unsophisticated material tingled something inside my brain. I like working with things that already have a history or connotation.
I want to emphasise that the golden dress featured in the collection is visually striking. You boldly used 24-karat gold as material. Could you tell us about this dress and its inspiration? What does it represent in the broader narrative of JNN D’RC?
I am obsessed with fully gold-plated statues. When I was a child, I even wanted to marry the Berliner “Goldelse”, a giant golden angel on top of a tower in the middle of Berlin. My parents told me that marrying an 8-metre tall, golden statue wouldn’t be an option, and while I have to agree, the fascination with the material stuck.
Gold leaf comes in these very thin sheets. It’s delicate and has to be handled with care. When it’s applied to a surface, it still damages easily and the gold wears of ffast. For JNN D’RC, I liked the idea that a dress so precious is dissolving with every movement. She’s a disappearing statue of a saint who never was just that.
There’s a distinct sense of tension between luxury and violence in this work, mainly when opulent materials are used. How do you balance that contrast in your practice?
Making fashion and art is inherently political, and the world of 2025 we’re living in is violent. Creating is my way of trying to make sense of it all. The theme of Female Rage comes to my mind. The stereotype of the innocent and naive woman who gets taken advantage of is an ongoing common narrative of who we are as women. I reject that. I want people to worship the woman I dress. I want them to see her as an all-powerful being.
Does the project respond to a specific geography or history, or is it more about the imagined and the symbolic?
A big aspect of my projects is the world that I get to build around it. During the 6 months of making a collection, I create whole stories that are interwoven with the topic. This time around, I imagined stories of knights, saints, and a little bit of magic.
Some pieces in the collection have a nearly ritualistic quality. Was there a spiritual lens guiding any part of your creative process?
I do love rituals! I don’t believe in a specific religion, but I admire the dedication and devotion. Some parts of my creative process are comparable in being very repetitive and taking a long time. Attaching the gold leaves to the whole dress, for example, took me 12 hours each day for two days. But while my hands are occupied, my mind is wandering. I get into a meditative state, thinking about everything and nothing, and when I get overwhelmed by my thoughts, I start listening to podcasts or music. Working on JNN D’RC, I listened to Mozart’s Requiem a lot. The music has a very dramatic and sacred feel to it that I tried to channel into my work.
