After Party

Chekii Harling
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  • FASHION & BEAUTY
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Your backstage pass to the sustainable fashion space. Not quite ready for the end of the world? Neither am I. afterpartybychekiiharling.substack.com

Episodes

  1. 22 JAN

    After Party meets: Rosette Ale

    Welcome to After Party – the show where I interview sustainable brand founders in their natural habitats. In this episode, I’m joined by Rosette, the Founder of Revival London – a self-confessed ‘thrift queen’ with the mission to make slow fashion sexy. Born in Ghana and now based in London, Rosette’s work is subtly inspired by West African silhouettes combined with the energy of 1990s R&B girl groups. She was business-minded from a young age, with her journey as a designer beginning with her thrifting garments and reworking them to sell to her friends in the school playground. This became a way for her to craft an original look for herself, after she realised that her part-time wage in retail wasn’t going to deliver the wardrobe of her dreams. With creativity calling her name, Rosette pivoted after studying Maths and Management, pivoting to work in fashion merchandising and e-commerce. Now she splits her time between Revival and working freelance as a content creator and social media analyst. Last year, she showed at Lagos Fashion Week and was a guest on ITV news, while also collaborating on projects with Levi’s, eBay and TikTok. When she isn’t showing her followers how to transform a pair of jeans from Vinted into a cute bag, Rosette can be found advocating for greater representation in the fashion industry or partying in a bejewelled one-piece at Notting Hill Carnival. Welcome to the After Party, Rosette! You grew up in Ghana with your dad. What was it like growing up there? Ghana was amazing. I had a really fun childhood, spending time with my friends, playing, and being in the sun. I loved playing football with the boys and eating good food, all of that good stuff. How would you describe the way that Ghanaian people dress? There’s no one way that Ghanaian people dress. I feel like the core thing is the cultural dress and traditional attire. There’s the kente fabric, which is really for the royals and is worn for special occasions. Every single colour means something different in Ghana. Red and black are about mourning and grief, and purple represents royalty. I feel like that’s where I draw my inspiration from. I love colour. “This industry is really messed up…it’s about taking a step back and thinking about what is going on behind the scenes?” When did you first start to be interested in making and the way that people dress? I think it’s when I moved to London because I was quite young growing up in Ghana. I moved here [to London] when I was, like, 10, 11, and then I got into cross stitching in year six. There was this new world that I was stepping into, using my hands to create, and then going into school and doing textiles and just taking it to that next level. I got my first sewing machine, and it was a trajectory from then onwards. What was the first item you made? I remember making this pair of shorts with an African print. How did Revival start? In sixth form college, I started getting into vintage clothing and thrifting, and I found myself wanting to customise the stuff that I bought. Things didn’t fit me perfectly, so I’d take them in. I started learning from YouTube and got my first little £50 John Lewis sewing machine. Vintage was blowing up, and people were customising stuff more and more on social media. I wanted to try and see what I could do to make things my own and make things unique. The Rana Plaza Disaster happened in 2013, when this factory collapsed, and it was breaking news across the whole world. For people who don’t know what Rana Plaza is, it was in Bangladesh, wasn’t it? It was a factory in Bangladesh, which was really badly structured and, like, the workers complained about, you know, the building actually falling apart, and there was nothing done. So then it actually collapsed, and over a thousand people died, and loads of people were injured. It was a massive turning point in the fashion industry, and I think that’s when Fashion Revolution was founded. They are all about advocating for ethical consumption and ethical production, so that was a big moment for me because I was just getting into fashion. I was like, “Oh, this industry is actually really messed up!” It was about taking a step back and thinking about what is actually going on behind the scenes. I wanted to create something [with Revival] that was stylish, sexy and fun while being based on sustainable and ethical practices. “I started with my own wardrobe, looking at what I could repurpose from there.” What does your sourcing process look like? I used to partner with this textile sorting factory called L&B Textiles. They got loads of dead stock materials from Levi’s, Lee Jeans - lots of different manufacturers, but they’ve changed their whole business model, so they’ve left me in the dust. Now I’m working with charity retailers, like TRAID. I’ve just been to their warehouse in Alberton to source materials from there, and I’m working with community donations as well. What was it like when you went to TRAID? Were you shocked? They have a huge facility where there are hundreds and thousands of garments being repurposed. Seeing it live, I was like ‘wow!’ They have such an efficient system in place and machines going, it’s a whole world. Hundreds and hundreds of tons of clothing come through there, but it’s going back into the shops. It’s getting repurposed and resold, so that’s good. What drew you to denim? In my thrifting days, I sourced a lot of denim. There were £1 jeans markets going on. I just found myself really drawn to denim and vintage pieces like Levi’s. I had lots of these pieces in my wardrobe already, and I wasn’t wearing all of them at the same time. How many pairs of jeans can you wear at once? I started with my own wardrobe, looking at what I could repurpose from there. “I want to see what I can do beyond denim.” For listeners who don’t know about denim’s impact on the environment, it’s a really intensive production process… I think it takes around 2,000 litres to create a pair of jeans! From growing cotton to the dyeing process. There’s a lot of water and energy that goes into making a pair of jeans. So to be able to repurpose and bring pieces back into circulation is actually really, really impactful. Let’s talk about your process. Do you start by sketching? Or do you let the material guide you? It’s a bit of back and forth. I sometimes start with sketching and with my moodboard and research, and then design pieces that I wanna create, and then go and find the materials. Or sometimes I would actually have stuff already that’s available that I’ve already got in my wardrobe. “I create looks that draw on the different aspects of a girl group dynamic.” And you work with local female artisans to make some of your pieces? Yeah, I worked with TN Tailors and a few other local makers who have their own businesses. They are self-employed, so they take on small projects for me when I have a pop-up and I need a small batch of products. You were at Lagos Fashion Week last year… Yeah, October 2024. I was looking at what I could do to showcase my brand and take it on an international level. They have a green access program, which is for smaller designers who are doing things in a more sustainable way, so I applied for that, and they said they’d like to have me on board. I showcased three looks during their showcase, which was phenomenal. It was such a good time. Such a highlight. I wanna also touch on your inspiration. You’re really inspired by 90s R&B I’m obsessed! From a young age I was drawn to 90s and early 2000s. It was a very expressive and fun era, and a good time for girl bands. I create looks from different personalities that draw on the different aspects of a girl group dynamic. I love that. What are some of your favourite R&B groups? The classics - Destiny’s Child and TLC are definitely a bit of me. You fuse that with West African silhouettes. How do you feel like that comes through? Being half Nigerian and half Ghanaian, there are a lot of bold and vibrant silhouettes and very large shapes when it comes to design. For example, the puff sleeve being very large and taking up space. That’s the energy I wanna bring and fuse together with the 90s vibe. “Have a really clear vision of what you want your brand to say to the world.” In Ghana, there’s the Kantamonto market where a lot of [western] secondhand clothing ends up. How do you feel about being half-Ghanaian and working with waste? It’s one of the largest secondhand markets in the world, and there’s so much that gets shipped overseas. It’s unfortunate that over the years, the garments have become lower quality. The sellers aren’t able to sell as much as they get from the bales that they buy. That resonates with me as someone who’s Ghanaian and has lived in Ghana as well. You can see the impact and how it affects the local beaches and the landscapes, so it’s close to home. Being in this space, it feels like I’m doing something really impactful and close to the heart as well. You’ve worked with adidas, TikTok, Depop, Levi’s, and eBay and also Fashion Revolution. What have been some of your most memorable brand partnerships? It’s been such an honour to work with all these brands. When you list them, I’m like, oh, wow. I did that. Levi’s was a really exciting one for me because they’re a denim brand. They’re the OGs in the game, and they were on my vision board for a partnership for years. We did a four-part content series customising denim to show customers and the average person how to level up their Levi’s. We did applique, stencilling and spray painting with fabric paint. I added some pearls and jewels to embellish a jacket and reworked a pair of jeans into a bag, which was one of the top collabs. “You don’t have to have loads of money to shop more sustainably

    20 min

  2. 9 JAN

    After Party meets: Emma Blythe

    Welcome to After Party – the show where I interview sustainable brand founders in their natural habitats. In this episode, I’m joined by the London-based menswear designer and artist Emma Blythe. As a child growing up in the US, Emma first experimented with fashion by making outfits for the Tooth Fairy. She studied fashion design at Marist College in New York before completing a graduate diploma at Central Saint Martins and an MA in Menswear at the Royal College of Art. Here, Emma started to unpick the masculine wardrobe and the way that we gender clothing, one deadstock suit at a time. To Emma, upcycling is more than just sustainability – it’s a form of visual storytelling and a way to dismantle old narratives. By reconstructing garments loaded with history, Emma asks: Can we strip away the past to build a more hopeful future? Through research, couture techniques, and performance, Emma rewrites these male stories by reworking pieces that traditionally belonged to the masculine wardrobe, using male-coded materials like deadstock suits and second-hand ties. She also reworks materials from her own past. In her collection titled Progression, garments reconstructed from her past collection symbolised that “we don’t always have to make something new to move things forward.” When they aren’t designing under their namesake label, Emma can be found making costumes for music videos, working on film commissions, crafting a new line of denim accessories, and dreaming up imaginary product collaborations, such as a Prada x Tesco meal deal sandwich bag with their partner Chun. Welcome to the After Party, Emma Blythe! This series is all about upcycling, so I wanted to start by asking you, what does upcycling mean to you? Upcycling is a combination of recycling, mending and creation. It’s recreating something completely new from what it was originally used for. When did designing with the planet in mind become important to you? I grew up outside of a city and was outside a lot. It’s always been something that’s been important to me. I’ve never been a fast fashion shopper, it’s about making garments that are well-made and meant to last. Interestingly, you say you’ve never shopped fast fashion because I feel like a lot of people go through a transition where they used to shop fast fashion and now they don’t. What were you wearing when you were younger? I got a lot of hand-me-downs from older cousins and older siblings when I was a kid. My mom had a massive influence on the way that I see fashion and clothing. She worked in fashion, but she was more on the business side; she was a merchandiser and a buyer. She loved a good bit of tailoring. It annoyed me when I was younger, when I wanted something from H&M when I was like 13, my mom would be like, “This is made terribly – we’re not getting that for you.” At the time, you’re like “Mom, I just want the cute top!” But she really instilled in me to inspect what you’re getting, to look at what you’re buying, that’s something that I still do today. What was your upbringing like? You grew up in the US… Very outdoorsy, my family is in the Northeast corner. So a lot of farms, a lot of mountains, very suburban. At the time I hated it, I wanted to move to New York and work in fashion and never come home. I was spending every single day outside. You’d get home from school, chuck your backpack inside, and then go back outside until you had to come in at night. Lots of winter sports. I think that had a massive impact on the way that I view sustainability. “My Mom was a fashion buyer and merchandiser – she’d say we’re not getting that for you, it’s made terribly!” How did your journey with making evolve? I was always creating something, sewing, and drawing. My older siblings did a lot of drawing too. My grandmother, she was an artist and she was the one who taught me how to sew originally, that was really special. There was always a ton of art supplies that we could play with, and we’d make an absolute mess. She slowly started to teach me how to sew. The first fully finished garment that I made was a dress from an old vintage dress pattern. My mom would try and teach me how to knit if she had the patience for it, which she didn’t normally have; it was an evolving interest. I was always geared towards some version of working in fashion. What kind of art did your grandma create? She was a watercolour painter, she was really into architecture and gardens. There’s always been a very creative mindset in my family. There’s an amazing story about you making a dress for the Tooth Fairy… I was very slow to grow up and I was just really interested in fairy tales, the tooth fairy, she was my girl. My mom was always redecorating the home, and she always had fabric samples for different projects. I would use them to make robes with little ribbons; my Mom still has one of them at home. “In London, I became more experimental with my ideas.” How did you express your creative side at school? I studied at Marist College in New York, and it was very uncreative. I really didn’t enjoy my time there, but looking back, it was really beneficial. It was very commercial-based. Would this sell in a department store? Yes or no, that’s it. It was very technical skills-based, too, sewing 100 samples of how to do a zipper, 100 samples of how to sew a pocket, which at the time was miserable. But it really taught me how to make clothing well. When I moved to London for the more creative side, I was shocked because I didn’t really think that I was that good at making clothing because everyone else on my course in New York was really good at it. In London, I became more experimental with my ideas. I had the basis to be able to actually make it and not need to outsource, I could just do it myself. How was studying at CSM a contrast to New York? I was shell-shocked for sure. I definitely went through a bit of a personality crisis there. I spent a lot of time rediscovering what I wanted to do. It also really showed me the side of the industry that isn’t about the work, that’s more about the social and cultural aspects of working in the industry. In New York, if you work really hard, you’re good. Here, there’s a lot more nuance. That one year at CSM was just a quick one-year course, full of international students; there were like 15 different countries represented within a course of 30. It was a really interesting mix of people from all kinds of different backgrounds who were trying to take that next step. “That’s when I got into antique materials and non-fashion materials like upholstery.” What did your work look like at the time? Oh so bad! I was unsure what I was doing creatively because I wasn’t given that chance to explore that when I was doing my BA, so I wanted to do everything. It was still menswear and that is when I got into using antique materials, and non-fashion materials, like upholstery. It was when I was first exploring what I wanted to do in terms of materials and texture, and colour. Where did you source the antique materials at the time? At home. When I went back for holiday breaks, I collected everything I could and shoved it into a suitcase because everything in London is so expensive, even if it’s second-hand. I’d get everything I could from antique stores and deadstock fabric warehouses. There are a lot of textile mills where I’m from, alongside fabric that my mom had in the house that wasn’t getting touched. “It was an MA in fashion, but ‘fashion’ at the RCA is a very loose term.” Then you went to the RCA for your MA. How was that experience? I know it was lockdown… I loved it for the first four months; we had lots of people from different backgrounds. There were people in my course doing architecture and fine art. It was an MA in fashion, but at the RCA, fashion is a very loose term. There were people who did writing as opposed to making garments. You could do whatever you wanted to do. I loved it because it allowed me to continue on that trajectory of experimentation. Then lockdown came and I actually did a lot of it in my flat or back at home in my parents’ home in the US via Zoom. So it was a really different experience, but it gave me time to figure out what I wanted to do. I did a lot of academic research and writing, which I never thought I would do. But that became the basis of my entire project and what I’m still doing now. “The film featured two men helping each other into a suit, which is something you would never normally see.” What was your final project? It was called Fashioning Acts of Masculinity… I had done menswear for my BA and my time at CSM. So it had been five years. I was doing menswear and interning and working in menswear, and I was just getting so sick of creating for men’s wants and needs. Coming from the US and the political background at the time, there was a lot of male toxicity going on. I started to research why this is happening and started looking at how fashion has influenced that in the past. Once you figure that out, you can start to tweak it and adjust fashion to positively influence the male experience. My final collection was all about creating garments that men had to ask for help to get dressed in, it was about instigating behaviours that they would never have to engage in normally, asking for help from someone else and instigating male-to-male touch, exploring the vulnerability that they don’t normally experience within their own wardrobe. There was a performance piece at the end where I worked with two choreographers and dancers to show that experience. How do you think these ideas manifest visually? In working with suits and shirts – garments that traditionally ‘belong’ to men? The collections I’m working on wouldn’t make sense if they were made from new ‘cut and sew’ materials. It needs

    41 min

  3. 09/10/2025

    After Party meets: Kathryn Hewitson of Pristine

    Welcome to After Party – the show where I interview sustainable brand founders in their natural habitats In this episode, I’m joined by Kathryn Hewitson, designer and founder of the fashion label Pristine. Kathryn’s career in fashion began at cult London labels Meadham Kirchoff, Sibling and Ashley Williams. Later she landed the Head of Design role at Rokit Originals, the upcycled line by the well known London vintage shop. On top of her day job she started selling her own line of corsets on Depop – which started making enough money for her to quit her job at Rokit. Since launching Pristine in 2021, Kathryn has been committed to supporting local producers working with British wool, and the even the last remaining lace manufacturer in the UK. Kathryn also incorporates deadstock and vintage fabrics into Pristine’s collections, and she has even designed her very own tartan with a traditional Scottish mill! The brand oozes glamour in all its forms – taking inspiration from old Hollywood films, playboy bunnies and 70s porn mags – fusing a celebration of femininity with the harder edge of subculture. Having been worn by Julia Fox, Kortney Kardashian, Chloe Cherry, and now me! Pristine is the brand for the cool girls about town. Imagine a sexy smart-arse girl gang uniting to right the wrongs of the world, with killer cleavage, silk stockings and a mouth full of bubblegum. When Kathryn isn’t balanced on top of a photocopier scanning her own arse for a Pristine skirt design, she can be found rewatching old Hollywood movies and rifling through 1940s slip dresses for inspiration. Welcome to the After Party Kathryn! You grew up in Cumbria, in a village called Thornhill. What was it like growing up there as a kid interested in fashion? I was kind of an alien! I’ve always been into fashion and clothes and style. When I was a kid I would run around saying “I want to be a fashion designer!” There’s always a story [in interviews] people say “my grandmother was SO stylish,” I would watch her applying her rouge”... it was none of that. Reading Vogue under the bed sheets, that's a classic. I just always loved it. Trying to get my parents to be on board with it was a strange one because they didn't have any f*****g reference point of for it. When I was a tiny tiny primary school kid I just always loved figuring out how to make things. “I would be like, ‘I’m not emo, I’m punk!’ but I guess we all looked pretty f*****g similiar.” What were you making? Do you remember the Spice Girls boxes of chocolates? I made a flag out of the sweet wrappers. In year five, I insisted that I made a shoe with a padded foot bed out of kitchen sponges. Or chopping the majority of a t-shirt away and scroll a band name in lipstick on it, they would always ‘disappear’ in the wash. I wonder why…how did you express yourself through clothes? There aren’t that many pictures of me as a teenager, but I suppose that was before the time when we were taking photos of everything constantly. I wish I could see the state that I must’ve looked like, with varying colours of green and pink hair and tiny tiny t-shirts, frills and big chunky zips. There's definitely a thread from the things I liked then. I think that teenage me would think that what I do now is really cool! Was it kind of punk? Me and my friends were really into Emo, but I would always get tired of that brush, I’d be like ‘I’m not emo, I’m punk!!’ but I guess we looked pretty f*****g similiar. I used to spend a lot of time reading online forums of girls on the other side of the world, like ‘how I chopped up my T-shirt.’ When my Dad came in, I had to click off the screen because he thought they were stealing my bank details. Was it Tumblr? MySpace? I was never into MySpace. Live Journal was one of the big ones. I remember this page called ‘Mad Rad Hair’ with loads of people dying their hair and posting pictures of themselves. Where does Barbie fit into all of this? I need to show you a photo where I had Barbie bed sheets, Barbie everything, wearing a Barbie t-shirt with little leggings and a Barbie doll on my bed in my pink bedroom, I look SO pleased with myself. It’s funny, I did have a dress to match one of my Barbies, and it was my favourite thing in the world! Just like Melvin! [Kathryn’s Dog]. When did you decide that you wanted to be a fashion designer? Really young actually, but I didn’t think it was going to happen because I had a conflict with my parents about it. I was a brainy kid, and they obviously thought I could be an accountant and make loads of money, and I was like, ‘If I don’t go and be an accountant and I don't kill myself, I can save money and start a fashion brand.’ Were you doing textiles at the time? My A Levels at school were art, maths and further maths. I was in this shitty arse end of nowhere town where there weren't enough people to want to do textiles, but my art teacher really encouraged me to make textile-based things. I made a dress that was kind of Victorian, and had all these appliques, lace and beading. It was pretty hideous, but certain things have always appealed to me. There was a pair of trousers that I used to repeatedly draw in my school notebooks, but I never made them. I'm really thinking of making them now in honour of my teenage self. What were they like? They were f*****g nuts. They were slim-leg trousers that were a bit cowboyish. The outside leg was tartan, and the inside leg was leopard print. Sounds quite Pristine actually. After school, you went to uni in Newcastle? I’m not sure what their reasoning was, but my parents were like ‘you can study fashion, but you’re not going to London.’ I was the first person in my family to go to uni, and my immediate family are all within a few miles radius of where they were born and grew up. I put so much pressure on finally living my dream, and I realised university wasn’t going to solve all of my problems. “If I don’t go and be an accountant and I don’t kill myself, I can save money and start a fashion brand.” How was Newcastle? I was really depressed for years when I was at uni; it was really tough. I think my graduate collection was the only project I technically finished. I don't think a university environment is necessarily where I thrive. I was the same at school, I much prefer learning by doing, and I’ve always had an issue with authority. People learn in different ways. University just feels like a bit of a scam, to be honest, fashion courses barely teach you anything and there’s so much controversy around unpaid internships, but the universities rely on the internships to teach what they should be teaching them themselves. But there is also no way that 18-year-old me would’ve packed my bindle and gone off to London to make it in the fashion industry, so I don’t know what the answer is. And then the bright lights, big city of London… If you want to work in fashion and you're going to be in the UK, you go to London. I always knew I wanted to have my own brand eventually, so I wanted to start by working for other small designers. I started interning in fashion while also working in a pub. “Big brands will be selling something for three grand and it’ll be made of the cheapest, nastiest fabric – it’s offensive.” At Roksanda? Roksanda was when I was still at uni in my year out. It really reassured me that my experience at Newcastle was not the fashion industry. I was interning at Meadham Kirchoff, which very quickly became a sort of job, which also coincided with the collapse of the company. I was working 40 hours in a pub for minimum wage, eating Snickers a day, crying a lot and thinking ‘there’s got to be a way through this.’ “If you’ve touched an amazing duchess silk satin, you’re not going to go, ‘Oh, I’ll use this polyester jersey.’” On the pot noodles… But it felt amazing and magical at the same time, like I was getting closer to the path that I wanted to be on. The kind of energy you have for these things when you're younger is insane. For people who don’t know the brand, how would you describe Meadham Kirchoff? It had quite a following at the time. Everyone was obsessed! The pieces may have been inspired by subculture, but everything was executed to such a high standard, with couture finishes, luxurious fabrics, structure, layer and volume!! And the shoes were piling on top of that with the make-up, the hair and the styling! They really created a world; it was amazing, and people would dress like it. No one could afford the clothes because it was like 40K for a jacket, because there was so much work in the pieces. I guess when the people who love your stuff are so far away from the people who can afford it, it’s a bit doomed. What did you learn from being at Meadham? It started at Roksanda, seeing all these amazing, beautiful fabrics. She would use a lot of old couture techniques – it literally makes my mouth water and gets me so excited! It’s tricky – you want to make stuff that isn’t just purely available to oligarchs’ wives, but if you’ve touched an amazing duchess silk satin, or an amazing cashmere, you can't then go ‘yeah fine I’ll use this polyester jersey.’ I feel like so much of the industry is going that way now; it makes me really sad that quality is fading. Big brands will be selling something for three grand, and it’ll be made of the cheapest, nastiest fabric; it’s offensive. “Because of the nature of vintage, Rokit attracts really great people.” All that plastic coming out of these big fashion houses… Yeah, it’s grim, it’s insulting. I think so many people now don't even know what good quality clothing is because they've never seen it. How do you try to be the antithesis of that at Pristine? I know my life would be a lot easier and the business would probably be bigger if I were happy to hop on to a trend and

    1h 4m

  4. 04/09/2025

    After Party meets: Lydia Bolton

    Welcome to After Party – the show where I interview sustainable brand founders in their natural habitats. In this week’s episode I’m joined by the London-based fashion designer, content creator and slow fashion designer Lydia Bolton. Born in Cheltenham, the daughter of an eco-warrior, Lydia was first taught how to sew by her mum at 13, making a scrumptious little shift dresses with gathered sleeves and peachy-blue swirls – delish! Whizz on a few years and Lydia was off to study fashion in the big city (Kingston University), with high hopes and a bag full of dreams. Post-graduating Lydia found herself at the epicentre of the fashion industry, amongst the 00s-inspired prints and cheeky slogans of House of Holland, where she worked as a design assistant. After a couple of years in ‘the real world,’ Lydia quit her job as fashion assistant to pursue her biggest dream of them all: launching her namesake sustainable brand. Determined for her work to align with her values, Lydia started making new pieces using donations from the London-based charity TRAID, and nowadays, the big brands come knocking. For a designer with such a colourful aesthetic Lydia has a hardcore approach to reworking waste – often incorporating scraps and off-cuts into her designs. She’s worked with everyone from Liberty to NIKE on creating one-of-a-kind pieces, hosting workshops and more. Many of her brand collaborations feel more unexpected than the usual collaborations with big fashion brands. My personal favourite is her line of Christmas jumpers for Lidl x ByRotation that were inspired by camp Christmas icons (hello Mariah, hello Elton!), and Lydia has also worked with Lime Bike on an exclusive cycling collection that certainly didn’t leave a sour taste. Whether she’s transforming a tablecloth into a mini-skirt, filming her ‘Easy Upcycle’ content series or teaching at her sell-out scunchie workshops, at the heart of the brand is a DIY approach to making. She reminds us mere mortals that there’s nothing you can’t do yourself when it comes to upcycling the pieces already hanging in your wardrobe. In sharing her knowledge with the world, Lydia is living proof that sustainable fashion is about collaboration, not gatekeeping. Welcome to the After Party Lydia Bolton! Let’s talk about your upbringing…My upbringing was very outdoorsy. We were outside the whole time making things. My mum is very eco and all about the outdoors lifestyle. I grew up in hand-me-downs, in my brothers’ and sisters’ old clothes, and in charity shop clothing and I loved dressing up in my granny’s old clothes. There was definitely a phase where me and my sister loved dressing up like the Sound of Music, I would be in a dress and silk gloves and she’d be dressed as the guy, we’d do little plays and create stories around whoever we were dressed up as. What about your mum? I always say that my mum’s my eco inspiration. She’s the most environmentally determined and committed person I know. She’s also really into sewing, so she was the one who taught me how to sew when I was, like, 13. The first thing I made was a little shift dress with gathered sleeves with blue peachy swirls. It’s giving costume. Perfect for the plays! These days, you describe yourself as a ‘slow fashion designer,’ what does that mean to you? It’s about acknowledging that you’re not working in the same way as traditional fashion design. The way I work is a lot slower; I’m not trying to be a designer and have a brand in the same way that previous brands have existed. The entire fashion industry (not just fast fashion) is SO fast, so quick, the ‘slow fashion’ label shows I’ve taken a step aside from that. When do you think sustainability became important to you? I’ve always grown up in an eco environment, where there was a bin for everything but it didn’t have the ‘sustainable,’ label. When I was a teenager I’d still shop in charity shops a lot, but then I also would shop a bit of fast fashion. By the time I was working I wasn’t shopping at fast fashion brands anymore and I was trying to live a sustainable lifestyle but it didn’t match my career. Then I heard this quote, which really stuck with me, “as a designer you have a responsibility with what you create,” and it hit me that I have all these personal values but I hadn’t connected them to my career. I have a job where I can make an impact, and I can create things which are better for the environment. A couple of months after hearing that quote I decided to quit my job and pivot my career to be focused on sustainable fashion. You studied at Kingston, how was your uni experience? I did my Art Foundation, and then my degree at Kingston, which was so fun. The art school is by the river and I had a really good time studying there. Probably a better time on the social side than the work. The first few years I worked hard, but I didn’t love the work. Then in third year, where you got to do your own final collection, I really enjoyed that. What I hadn’t enjoyed in the previous years was doing the projects for brands, and I think that was because I was not as interested in these industry briefs. It made me realise that I prefer doing my own thing rather than working for other people. “I was trying to live a sustainable lifestyle, but that didn’t match my career.” – Lydia Bolton Now you work with a lot of brands, so it’s come full circle Now I like brand projects because they give you a brief, and you’re like, ‘Okay, great, I’m just gonna do the brief – my take on what they’re looking for’ – but at the time I didn’t enjoy the briefs. So, what was next? You went on to the world of work? The world of work, which was a slow start for me. So I left uni, moved to North London, and didn't have a job. So I started interning and then worked in the pub in the evenings to obviously pay to live. And then slowly, after almost a year of interning – maybe a full year – one of the places I was interning at, House of Holland, then offered me a job as a design assistant, which was amazing. When did you quit your job to start your own brand? I worked for a couple of years, and then I felt this real need to do my own thing and quit. It had taken me so long to finally get a job as a design assistant, and I really enjoyed where I was working, but I knew it was time. I knew I could go back to the pub to pay my bills to cover my rent. Was it the same pub? Yeah they had me back. Bless them! Bless them! They were lucky! It was an interesting place… I did this online course at the Centre for Sustainable Fashion and learned more in-depth about all the different issues within fashion. The main one that really stood out to me was the huge amount of waste. I could see how I could use my skills as a designer and a maker to make a small solution. “The entire fashion industry is SO fast, so the ‘slow fashion’ label shows I’ve taken a step aside from that.” – Lydia Bolton How was it starting the brand? Again it was very slow. It was very slow to get going. It took me so long to understand how to have more of a brand – I had just come from design, and I enjoyed making things. A singer messaged me and they wanted an outfit for their BBC Introducing performance at Glastonbury. I said “I’d love to make this for you, but I’m only using secondhand textiles,” and they loved the idea. I didn’t want to use clothing that could be bought in charity shops, I wanted to use clothing that can’t be sold. So I sent some emails and went to the TRAID warehouse to find materials to rework. What was it like going to the warehouse? A real experience. It’s changed now, because this was almost six years ago, but when I was there, it was this long conveyor belt, and they would sort things into different categories. And then I would just wait to see what came at the end and couldn’t be resold. The scale of clothing is pretty overwhelming. At the time, you were deconstructing the pieces to make new fabrics, right? Exactly. And then, yeah, I’d wash things, unpick them all, and then stitch them together. It’s such a process. Even just going to TRAID, getting all the stuff, lugging it all back on the Overground and trains – that in itself is a lot, before the washing and unpicking. For me, the upcycling craft is the labour. Unpicking isn’t super difficult, but it’s the labour you put back in that gives it value. It’s almost meditative, unpicking things. Yeah, I used to really enjoy it. I would just listen to some music, listen to some podcasts, and sit and unpick. “I wouldn’t work with ultra-fast fashion brands.” – Lydia Bolton How has your sourcing process evolved? I still go to the TRAID warehouse but brands also get in touch with me and send me their unwanted fabrics and swatches. Or I’ll use eBay and Facebook Marketplace if I’m looking for something really specific. When brands donate to you, how does that work financially? Brands would incur more costs recycling it responsibly or paying for waste disposal at the landfill, so I’m a cheap option! You’ve worked with everyone from Lime Bike to Lidl, let’s talk about your brand partnerships… The brand partnerships started quite early. The streetwear brand Nicce got in contact with me, and I made a little capsule collection from their defected stock. I've been fortunate to have several collaborations since then, and they're always so fun. Brands give you a brief, and it’s interesting to apply my process – always reusing second-hand textiles and incorporating my design aesthetic – while also aligning with their vision and customer base. There’s a lot to balance, but it’s always an exciting challenge. There seem to be two different kinds of brands you collaborate with, brands like NIKE and then more unexpected partnerships like Lidl and Lime. I love the unexpectedness of collaboratio

    42 min

  5. 21/08/2025

    After Party meets: Adam Jones

    Welcome to the After Party – the show where I interview sustainable brand founders in their natural habitats. On this episode I’m joined by the London-based fashion designer and beer towel extraordinaire Adam Jones. Adam grew up in rural Wales – as a kid you’d find him wandering around his Nan’s house in her fur coats with plastic fruit balanced on his head. Yet it was watching footy matches down the pub with his Dad that led Adam to fall in love with the aesthetic of the humble British boozer, with its sticky 70s carpets, animal pictures hung in wooden frames, and plenty of pints on draft. In his teenage years, Adam dressed like a “punky granddad,” searching for clothes in charity shops and car boots that no one else at school would have. Then, Adam learnt how to create his own clothes. He was first taught to sew by his Nan, and went onto train at college in Wales before moving to Manchester to study at Manchester School of Art. After a brief stint making sexy nun outfits for kinky farmers at a costume factory in North Wales, Adam moved to London to showcase his first solo collection, worked in a number of pubs, and also secured a job at Christopher Shannon through the late fashion stylist Judy Blame. Since 2018, Adam has been focusing on building his own fashion label. A sustainable designer by default, Adam works with found materials sourced at local carboots, charity shops and online, to him, these 70s and 80s fabrics represent a nostalgia for simpler times, when we weren’t bombarded by technology and life was as simple as a pint down the pub after our long day’s work. Adam’s aesthetic embraces our tag of broken Britain, combining the eccentric and the mundane with bar towels from the pub, tea towels from the kitchen and vintage blankets from the bedroom. Clashing the comfort of the home with the chaos of the boozer. It’s granny’s house meets pubcore, meets punk… Welcome to the After Party Adam Jones! Get full access to After Party at afterpartybychekiiharling.substack.com/subscribe

    35 min

  6. 15/08/2025

    Welcome to the After Party podcast!

    Over the last six months, I’ve been visiting sustainable designers in their studios — which, in some cases, have also been their homes. Stepping into these spaces has been an incredibly intimate experience. Fashion today is such a big industry that unless you work inside a designer’s studio, you rarely spend time up close with the clothes — or the people — that make them. This podcast series is about changing that. Each episode begins by transporting the designer (and you, dear listener!) back to their upbringing, because that’s where all of our stories in fashion begin. For me, it all started with a love for fabrics and textiles — long before I ever thought about fashion as an industry. My Auntie, a costume and textiles designer, introduced me to a world of colour, embellishment, and print. I’ve always been a maximalist — a boring t-shirt with a logo slapped on isn’t something I’ve ever been interested in (nor fallen for). Give me a vintage kimono any day of the week. My early introduction to fashion via textiles is probably why I care so much about sustainability in fashion. After all, fashion is fabric — and you can’t make a sustainable collection without low-impact fabrics. It’s as simple as that. After Party Season 1: Upcycling The first season of the podcast loosely revolves around the theme of Upcycling, which is a practice I’ve come to understand much more deeply through making the show. How would I define upcycling? Whether you’re hunting for used fabrics via eBay, face-planting into a skip or working with scraps donated by big brands, the key thing is this: the material comes first. It informs the design — not the other way around. As my guest Lydia Bolton puts it, “when you upcycle, you have to design and think differently…you can’t design in the same way, because you are so restricted by material.” Footwear designer Helen Kirkum, who studied at Northampton and the RCA, seconds this: “You’re taught in traditional design education to come up with an idea and then retrofit your colours and materials to fit what you have thought of in your head. But with upcycling it’s material first – here are your materials, how are they going to inspire you?” Both Helen and Adam Jones talked about how they actually enjoy the creative limits that come with upcycling materials. As Adam says: “The dimensions of the material tell me what to do with it…is it big enough to be a coat or a pair of trousers, or will it have to be a top or a bag. I need those restrictions to design.” It’s been fascinating to hear each designer’s reasons for working with upcycled or deadstock materials, because their motivations vary wildly. Many are, of course, driven by sustainability. Kathryn, founder of Pristine, puts it clearly: “I know that the business would be making more money if I was happy to jump on a trend and do it cheaply – but I’m not going to contribute to the mess that the fashion industry is in - or that the world is in - to do it.” Others are drawn to the stories embedded in second-hand materials, and what that brings to the work. The 70s-obsessed, pub-going designer Adam Jones agrees with my take that he’s “a sustainable designer by accident”. “Everything I work with has a backstory to it. Things were made better back in the day, and it’s so exciting for me to have a tapestry that some lady has spent hours working on. It could’ve taken months and they’re kind of discarded now…I just really value the craft in these old objects and want to give them another life.” Helen Kirkum also feels this almost spiritual connection to fashion objects and their past lives: “I think I am quite an emotional designer,” she tells me. Her September 2022 presentation at LFW was titled ‘Palimpsest,’ a word describing something reused or altered, yet still bearing traces of its earlier form. “I first heard the word while studying at the RCA through a PhD student named Ellen. Originally, a palimpsest was an ancient scroll made of leather — you’d write on it, then bleach it in the sun to get the writing off before using it again. It would have all these layers of meaning and memories on the leather skin, which really resonated with me.” Alongside her studio’s ready-to-wear line (made in Portugal from leather collaged together from old trainers), Helen also offers bespoke redesigns — taking customers’ sentimental shoes that are normally a bit battered and transforming them into something new. “It’s incredibly emotional and personal because a customer might send us their wedding shoes, or tennis shoes that they won a competition in.” For episode 5’s guest Emma Blythe, who takes a more academic approach to fashion, second-hand textiles are essential to her exploration of gender, which she dissects through both fashion and performance. “I don’t think the ideas that I’m working on would make sense if they were made from new cut and sew materials, it needs to be pieces that people recognise as male items. That’s where a lot of the tailoring and the shirts come in — it’s a method of linguistics without needing to explicitly communicate it.” While for the denim-obsessed Rosette Ale, upcycling entered her universe through customisation. “In sixth form, I started getting into vintage clothing and thrifting and found myself wanting to customise the pieces I bought. I started learning from YouTube and wanted to see what I could do to make things my own — to make them unique.” And for Kathryn Hewitson of Pristine — whose label fuses subculture with Hollywood glamour — it’s all about the quality of fabrics, a passion shaped by time spent at Roksanda and Meadham Kirchoff. “Fabrics! It makes my mouth water, it gets me so excited! If you’ve touched this amazing silk satin, or this amazing cashmere, you aren’t going to use some polyester jersey.” Today, Kathryn works with a combination of deadstock fabrics sourced from third-party suppliers and carefully selected new fabrics that she stands behind. “I’m inspired massively by fabrics and trying to work as much as possible with deadstock or existing materials.” She’s also super passionate about supporting local manufacturing – working with lace sourced from the UK’s last remaining lace supplier, and has even designed her very own tartan with a traditional Scottish mill. I had the honour of wearing said tartan-suit-set when we were filming this episode. If Elle Woods of Clueless were a news reporter, I would give her a run for her money in this look! I hope this series gives you a sense of what it’s like to work as a sustainable fashion designer in London today — and maybe teaches you a thing or two about upcycling along the way. I’m excited to be bringing you my independent journalism again. If you’re subscribed on Substack, the first episode with Adam Jones will be delivered to your inbox on Thursday, 21st August. Substack is the place for the full After Party experience, with all the behind-the-scenes pics and videos, but you can also watch on YouTube and listen on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. The first season of the After Party Podcast won’t be behind a paywall, but you can show support for my work in the meantime by choosing to become a paid subscriber. Are you on the list? Chekii x Get full access to After Party at afterpartybychekiiharling.substack.com/subscribe

    22 sec
  • 6 Episodes

About

Your backstage pass to the sustainable fashion space. Not quite ready for the end of the world? Neither am I. afterpartybychekiiharling.substack.com

Information

  • Creator
    Chekii Harling
  • Years Active
    2025 - 2026
  • Episodes
    6
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © After Party by Chekii Harling
  • Show Website
    After Party