It’s a tough time to be a young British designer. Not only is the world at large in a particularly precarious place, but the machinations of our Brexit deal still remain a mystery—and the reverberations of confusion are impacting everything from price points to sample delivery. “We’re probably going to have to relocate our global distribution to Italy,” sighs A-Cold-Wall’s Samuel Ross, who shows on the Milanese Fashion Week calendar but remains located in London. “Some of our shoes didn’t arrive in time for the collection. We’re going to have to look again at how we sample everything. We’re in the core of anarchy.” In recent months, no headline has put it better.
Such a reality would easily lend itself to the dystopian fantasies Ross has often explored through his work—but instead, this season, the designer has relaxed. Not only does his fall 2021 collection open with a zen series of all-white looks he describes as imbued with a “more positive, optimistic spirit” than usual, but the high-concept narratives he has regularly been fixated on have been replaced by a more pragmatic approach to design. Case in point: This time last year, the show notes distributed to editors comprised a 45-page book; this season, we got 10 words (among them: open, portal, forum, reach). “Giving people space to enjoy [what we do] and interpret the collection in their own way has been a massive step forward for us,” he laughs. “It should be enjoyable—it’s not just education.”
Equally, the enjoyment he finds in his personal wardrobe (and that of the team he works alongside) has now expressly infiltrated the clothing he designs. These include some almost monastic ribbed loungewear he describes as a studio uniform, and separates, experimental in their materials and construction but almost normcore in their appearance (a perfect pleated creased mustard vest and a starched white shirting formed from mottled wool both expressed “a conscious professional persona”). A collaboration with Mackintosh showcased a particularly alluring array of gently abstracted outerwear—“a mix of our 21st-century heritage with their 19th-century heritage”—and an array of graphic tees and shirts that will easily appeal to the brand’s long-standing acolytes. Essentially: “This is a collection based on making really, really good product,” Ross reflects. “I want people to be able to take things that they see on the runway and have them be wearable.”
The radical evolution, then, comes in the form of the business decisions that Ross has been working to implement over the past year, like the formal division of his brand into ACW and A-Cold-Wall. The former reflects “British youth culture: the kids in Manchester who are wearing Nike jersey tracksuits, made at a price point that reflects that.” The latter? A more mature customer, seeking a high-spec-yet-understated runway offering: “Take our bucket hat: Its point of asymmetry is so subtle that it allows someone to wear something slightly abstract in their day-to-day,” Ross explains. Basically it’s the distillation of the designer’s personal dress codes—those which defined his Northampton upbringing, spent fixated on poly-nylon sportswear (ACW), and the Issey Miyake–heavy wardrobe he wears to work now (A-Cold-Wall). It’s a savvy move for a business that continues to expand at a remarkable rate: The designer proudly notes that his debut pre-fall collection surpassed sales expectations, even in the midst of a pandemic, by 180%.
Elsewhere, the grants which, last summer, Ross personally distributed to struggling Black-owned British businesses, or collaborated with Daniel Arsham to allocate to Black artists, designers, and architects, are now being brought under the umbrella of his business. “I’ve taken a slight pause because I want to make sure that what started off as a direct response can evolve into a system and a structure,” says Ross, who plans to orient the initiatives toward “any areas who need support: whether it’s POC, the working class, or trans people.” After all, he says, “My identity is part of the heartbeat of the brand and our following, but it’s not all of it. My identity politics and the company’s identity politics will always be interlinked, but they’re not one and the same. It’s more about a generational value system than one which is determined by race.”
If last year forced fashion’s hand in any direction besides loungewear, it was toward brands making their societal standpoints clear, a sentiment that Ross is embracing enthusiastically. “In this day and age, it’s impossible for a modern business not to consider sharing and supporting the values of its consumer demographic,” reflects the designer. “It should just be a default to signal where you sit.” In terms of aesthetics and philosophies alike, and despite the newly defined borders disrupting distribution, this season firmly positions Ross’s placement on the global stage.
