Casey Cadwallader | MUGLER

Interview Filep Motwary

Leaving his indelible mark on fashion, Thierry Mugler seemed irreplaceable. That is, until the current creative director of the house, Casey Cadwallader, proved he could rightfully walk in his legendary footsteps.

Thierry Mugler was to fashion what Federico Fellini was to cinema: a visionary who captivated his audience with collections brimming with glamour, excess, and sensuality. Conversations with his friends and collaborators through the years paint the picture of a magnetic man who drew inspiration from diverse sources: the azure blue of the sky, the Renaissance, the grand monuments of Moscow, the Sahara Desert, mythology… His shows were more than just displays of fashion—they were soul-baring expressions of a man with a cinematic eye, free from guilt or prejudice. Every show lasted hours, with preparation stretching even longer. Mugler himself was a unique “factory” of ideas that transcended reality, where the body always took center stage. Sometimes it was confined in tight corsets and sculptural, architectural jackets with sharp shoulders that exuded discipline; other times, it was liberated, breathing freely in silk organza, embellished with the finest materials.

None of his models ever appeared fragile. Mugler wanted both his boys and girls to strut down the runway with confidence, embodying the roles and choreographies he meticulously crafted down to the last detail. Sculpted hairstyles, S&M-inspired makeup, and a carefully curated soundtrack—from Wagner to deep house to Eartha Kitt—made each experience nothing short of extraordinary. Alongside the 20-30 models that embodied the spirit of the early ’90s, Mugler stayed true to icons from previous decades, bringing them to the runway with legendary actors, singers, drag queens, athletes, and outsiders: Diana Ross, Stella Ellis, Joey Arias, Deee–Lite, Lypsinka, Jerry Hall, Veruschka, Rossy De Palma, Julie Newmar—each a living tribute to the icons his audience adored, stepping into unexpected roles. Yet, in an ever-changing world, iconic houses like Mugler were forced to confront the dilemma of adaptation to survive. Those who couldn’t, like Claude Montana, were overtaken by minimalism, which, by the end of the decade, had emerged as the dominant trend.

Founded in the 1970s, the Mugler house captured public attention with its avant-garde image, and in 1992 launched its Haute Couture collection. Over time, however, it began to lose its lustre. After being acquired by beauty conglomerate Clarins in 1997, Mugler ceased its fashion production in 2003, maintaining only its lucrative fragrance line. Thierry himself left the company, adopting the name Manfred, dedicating most of his time to his true passion: bodybuilding. However, since 2018, the house has entered a new and exceptionally successful chapter, thanks to the American designer Casey Cadwallader. Though his approach is very different from Thierry’s, Cadwallader has managed to shake up the fashion world in a remarkably short period. Since taking the helm at Mugler, the Cornell architecture graduate and former Marc Jacobs protégé has focused on empowerment, blending architectural principles into his collection designs. The result can only be described as “sculptural tailoring,” an aesthetic that’s become a favorite among A-list celebrities like Kim Kardashian, Cardi B, Dua Lipa, and the K-pop group Blackpink, who are often seen in his custom-made creations.

During a recent meeting with him, we discussed the new order in fashion, his role as Mugler’s creative director, and the steps that helped him evolve the house into what it is today. “Everything happened gradually,” he tells me. “The first shock came when Beyoncé ordered outfits from us for her tour. Slowly, other celebrities followed suit, I must say, on their own initiative, because we don’t pay anyone to wear Mugler. The whole experience is incredibly interesting because it fosters a creative dialogue with every artist. I believe that’s how we gained the visibility we had been missing. During the pandemic, I decided to present our collections through short films, which reinforced our confidence as a brand still firmly connected to showbiz and the zeitgeist.” In these films, icons of our time, such as Lourdes Ciccone Leon, Hunter Schafer, Bella Hadid, Amber Valletta, Adut Akech, Chloë Sevigny, Nataša Vojnović, Jill Kortleve, Precious Kevin, Dominique Jackson, and Yilan Hua, take center stage. Could one view this collaboration as a risk, I ask? “No one takes risks easily,” he replies.

“That’s not the case for me or the house I work for,” says Casey Cadwallader, reflecting on the evolution of fashion. “I firmly believe that what we propose doesn’t have to appeal to everyone. I have the freedom to make ‘mistakes’ or create things that may resonate with only a few—but those who truly connect with it. That requires a constant willingness to step off the beaten path. I’m not sure if there’s any inherent risk, but to be honest, I don’t even think about it. After each show, it’s crystal clear to me what my next step will be, the direction I’ll take.” He pauses, then adds, “What I’ve learned from Thierry Mugler is that nothing should stand in the way of your dreams. You must move forward in the way you envision, without accounting for anyone else. Each voice has its own tone, and no one wants to see a collection or show that reminds them of someone else’s work. That’s how fashion houses lose their identity.”

I observe that the expectations of designers have shifted in the last decade; the modern designer must now be capable of much more. “I think everyone should proceed in their own way,” he responds thoughtfully. “You can be an incredibly talented creative director and still need someone to hold your hand as you design. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. What matters is knowing who you are and working with both your strengths and weaknesses. So, I don’t think everyone has to be bold or take risks—unless, of course, you’re working for Mugler, where boldness is non-negotiable,” he laughs.

Back in March, I found myself backstage at Mugler’s Fall/Winter 2024 show, ready to capture Casey Cadwallader’s creations with my camera. The space was dimly lit, with the only source of light coming from the stairs leading up to the first floor, where a sign read: “TO GLAM.” I ascended the stairs with my friend Kuba Dabrowski to witness the makeup process, and there she was—Kristen McMenamy, radiant after just having her makeup done, strolling about with an effortlessly magnetic vibe. We chatted until she slipped off to wear her first look—a seductive leather dress with lacing and silver buckles on the sides, connecting the front to the back.

Downstairs, chaos reigned. Farida Khelfa appeared in a fiery red dress made of rigid fringes, while Irina Shayk sported a leather décolleté, a “hybrid” tailored jacket that left little to the imagination. The revival of Thierry Mugler’s iconic style—once dubbed “créateur de choc”—was nothing short of a triumph. Cadwallader staged an absolute theatrical spectacle, brimming with drama, disappearing curtains, and heroines whose blood-red eyes recalled the brides of Count Dracula. In an era when fashion is dominated by conglomerates, what could be better than a show that dares to offer something distinctly different?

“I needed to create something dark,” he explains to me. “It was a mood that, I think, came from the things I was going through at that time. There’s a part of the Mugler archive that I had distanced myself from because I didn’t particularly like it—until I decided to give it another chance. That’s when I discovered a collection of garments with soft, velvety angles and a floor-length dress with two sharp points turning inward, from which red feathers emerged. I loved the idea of the body dressed in clothes that gave it an architectural dimension while enhancing movement with various tricks. Each piece was completed with a geometric logic that guided the artisans in the atelier toward the next step. I was trying to achieve something vampy and yet modern at the same time. It took a lot of effort to finalize this collection because I tend to see things in more abstract terms. At one point, I even considered adding vampire teeth to the models and many other things—thankfully, I didn’t go through with it! I became obsessed with dark red, which I originally thought I would use everywhere, and avoided patent leather, denim, and cotton. I chose materials defined by their textures, like velvet and draped leather. I wanted a result that was, in a way, ‘decadent.'”

I ask him how he manages to make every show a spectacular event. “I envisioned a way of presenting the collection that was directly tied to the garments and the character I was trying to build,” he reveals. “What I didn’t want was for the audience’s attention to be distracted by the set. That’s why the curtain disappeared, unveiling the space. There was definitely an element of mystery, like a peep show in progress, which eventually led to something magical. Because we work with such amazing personalities, every presentation has that element of revelation, which is always important to me. The idea with the curtain worked exactly as I intended. Maybe the runway could have been a bit brighter, but then again, no—it’s all about the body, as the vehicle for our existence, for our culture at large. These are all things that are constantly being questioned and reinvented. No matter what happens, our body belongs to us. And what fashion does is create space for it and redefine it. The role of a designer is to create the garment that elevates the body in its best social or private expression, and that’s exactly what I aim to do.”