GERMANIER

Interview & Photography by Filep Motwary

On the eleventh day of last August, Paris celebrated the gathering of athletes from around the world with a musical and artistic spectacle that marked the end of the 2024 Olympic Games. Under the artistic direction of Thomas Jolly and the perceptive styling eye of Daphné Bürki, who oversaw the costumes, the City of Light delivered a striking closing ceremony, during which our homeland was honoured as the country that gave birth to the Games, with our flag parading as the national anthem played. It was the moment when French dancer Arthur Cadre descended from the sky dressed as the “Golden Voyager” to receive it and wave it powerfully through the air, filling Greeks everywhere with pride.

The designer behind the all-gold outfit worn by Cadre is none other than Swiss designer Kévin Germanier, founder of the Paris-based label bearing his name. Selected by Jolly and Bürki for his talent and the values that shape both his life and work, he designed all the garments used that evening—120 in total—leaving his own imprint on this historic moment. Known for his innovative use of recycled materials since launching his brand in 2018, he created a series of sustainable costumes in collaboration with Nona Source—an initiative of the LVMH Group—successfully incorporating less conventional materials into the Olympic project, such as plastic tape from 200 VHS cassettes that once belonged to his mother’s personal collection. These unusual elements formed part of the costume worn by pianist Alain Roche, who performed the Hymn to Apollo on a suspended piano. The garments, inspired by sport and human anatomy—particularly muscles—were approached in a way that fused science fiction with the world of video games, Germanier’s two great passions.

I spoke with the 31-year-old designer last February, shortly after the presentation of his Autumn/Winter ’24–’25 collection. At the time, he told me about the project he had undertaken, though I did not fully grasp its scale. What had already captivated me, for more than one reason, was the work I had seen a few days earlier at the Théâtre Libre in Strasbourg Saint-Denis, which made me determined to speak with him. Entitled *Les Épineuses*, the dazzling collection I photographed backstage and later enjoyed from the theatre’s central seats was a study in how opposing elements can coexist harmoniously. Translating this idea into fashion, emphasising the paradox of strength and fragility in each meticulously crafted piece, what unfolded before me resembled an impeccably executed “harvest”, while the live orchestra Ancienne Cecilia created an immersive atmosphere. Beyond the vivid colours, sculptural silhouettes made from fabrics given a second life were embroidered from top to bottom with pearls, marabou feathers and shimmering recycled Swarovski crystals.

“Today, people notice these small details, even the ‘mistakes’ that once terrified me. And yet, at the end of the day, that’s exactly what audiences want to see—the thread in the beads that may be slightly loose in places, elements that reveal the garment was made by hand,” the designer tells me, stressing that in his view craftsmanship and innovation will be complementary in the future. “Neither can stand on its own. For example, the second and third looks on the runway were knitted pieces inspired by my grandmother’s know-how. However, we invented a new hand-knitting method, with beads inserted one by one using a crochet hook—something only possible if two knitters worked simultaneously, one placing them and the other securing them. The process was beautiful and narrative, as these garments were made by my grandmother and her sister. Another pair was my mother and my aunt. For me, that is the essence of innovation and skill: synergy and knowledge.”

Indeed, the entirety of Germanier’s work is a visual feast with a cinematic dimension. One might describe it as statement dressing, with an added detail that raises the bar even higher: the materials he uses come from various recycling sources, proving that luxury and environmental awareness can coexist seamlessly. Embroidery is applied to a silicone base that speeds up production time, while each piece is produced in limited numbers—around six items—all handmade. I personally see his work as haute couture with a distinctly playful spirit, even though it is always presented during ready-to-wear week, which hardly aligns with Germanier’s broader approach to fashion.

“It’s important for people to understand that my clothes are not one-off creations,” he explains. “I mean that I can make the same dress as long as I have the fabric. The fact that the Germanier bag, one of my bestsellers, is continually reproduced is because I have the materials to do so. Many ask me how I’ll continue in the future. Well, in exactly the same way I do now—how else? I want to be able to say ‘no’ when I feel something isn’t right for my business. I think that’s the key to keeping a brand healthy, not on life support. Furthermore, I care about having a good reputation, and I believe that through the ‘no’s we say, we mature. My work is linked to sustainability, but I’m not an upcycler because I want to save the world. I do it because it’s cheaper to buy recycled fabrics. I’m Swiss—I want to be sure I spend my money wisely! In truth, I started thinking this way when I moved to London and had no money, until I realized it was cheaper to buy a duvet cover from a vintage shop to make a prototype than to go to a fabric store and buy white cotton. Sustainability, for me, isn’t just about materials—it’s about the wider framework of fashion, so that it can be considered a healthy industry. For instance, whether interns are paid, or whether women working in a brand are paid the same as men. Because if that isn’t happening, the situation is not sustainable at all. It’s also not sustainable to change photographers every season. If you’ve found a code that works with your creative team, you can continue working with the same people. Trust inspires you to become even more creative.”

The son of an insurance agent, financial adviser and lieutenant colonel in the Swiss army, and a secretary who had the time to care for her family, Kevin Germanier enjoyed a very happy childhood with his siblings. “Nothing traumatic ever happened to me—everything around me was very conservative,” he recalls. “Unfortunately, neither of my parents was creative. Perhaps my grandfather was a little more daring, but I’m not really like him either. My country is known for graphic design, watchmaking and chocolate. There’s no fashion and no state support, so creativity cannot truly grow and flourish. And because I could never imagine doing anything other than pursuing my dreams in fashion, I left.”

Now 31, the designer graduated from Central Saint Martins in 2018 and immediately launched his label, while also working for Louis Vuitton. Within a year, he was selected for the 2019 LVMH Prize for young designers. Although he did not win, it gave him the visibility he needed to move forward. We talk about his years in London as a student and how they shaped his path.

“I struggled a lot to adapt to the British way of teaching,” he admits. “My tutors described me as ‘constipated’, and they were right. I questioned everything, like a total nerd. You see, in Switzerland we’re raised to aim for the perfect version of ourselves—with perfect hair, a perfect face, perfect clothes. We keep our opinions to ourselves and always agree with the crowd. So in my first year, through the endless work we were given, I had to discover and prioritize what was truly mine.

“At first I didn’t understand how to express it, until I received a huge F—a failing grade I simply couldn’t accept. I made a great fuss trying to have it changed, which didn’t happen, but I learned an important lesson. It was my first failure, and it taught me to see things differently. Later, when I didn’t win the LVMH Prize, I handled it with maturity, because although I had technically lost, my work had been chosen to compete with some of the greatest talents in the world. Another major shift in my thinking was my use of bold colour—something I didn’t dare attempt in my first two years. All my work was confined to shades of beige, gray and black. By my third year, I was ready to take risks, and that’s when my tutors truly supported me. That’s how I moved forward, step by step, and built my business.”

As our conversation draws to a close, I ask what else he enjoys about his work. “I’m fascinated by the fact that every day is different,” he replies. “Having your own brand is a selfish thing. As its head, you must be brave, like a captain steering a ship. If I don’t know where I’m going, my crew will soon stop trusting me. In the end, the only person I have to thank for this choice is myself—and no one else. No, I’m not arrogant; I simply know what I can offer, and I want to do it well.”