Lines. Fabric. Form. For designer Steve O. Smith, these elements converge to create garments that are as much art as they are fashion. With a background in fine art and a passion for drawing, Smith has developed a unique approach that transforms his sketches into dynamic silhouettes, challenging traditional boundaries and redefining wearable art. In this interview, he delves into his creative process, the challenges of bringing two-dimensional drawings to life, and the inspirations that fuel his innovative designs.
hube: Your work beautifully blurs the line between fine art and fashion. Can you share how your background in fine art influences your design process? What do you consider the biggest challenge in transforming a two-dimensional sketch into a three-dimensional garment?
Steve O Smith: I did my BA at the Rhode Island School of Design, and most of my friends were in fine art – so I was around that a lot. I think that’s definitely influenced the direction I ended up going. I’ve always had a very drawing‐based approach to design. The challenge? It’s blowing that drawing up to scale. It’s easy to fall into the trap of just exactly replicating what you do on paper when you’re working in real life.
But it’s important to remember that it’s a totally different drawing – just like if you painted from a sketch, you use it as an influence for the spaces and what you’re trying to portray, but there’s room for interpretation. I try not to be too dogmatic about doing the same drawing I did on paper. I let the garment develop as its entity, even though it’s influenced by that two-dimensional work.
h: Your AW2024 collection is described as ‘a life-size drawing in the round’. How do you maintain the spontaneity of your sketches throughout the pattern-cutting and construction processes? Are there any particular techniques you’ve developed to preserve that artistic essence?
SOS: Well, it’s interesting because I’ve mostly been working with graphite sticks and pencils for the last year and a half. The techniques I use involve appliquéd silk crepe on organza. It creates these extremely dry, drawing-like pieces – there’s no wet medium involved. But when you scale those up, they end up with this sort of inky feel. Lately, I’ve started drawing in ink, and I’m really curious to see how that will change my techniques. I’m musing on it a bit, but basically, it all comes down to finding that balance between the precision of the drawing and letting the fabric evolve its own character.
h: How do you maintain the spontaneous energy of your sketches during pattern cutting, given that transferring a sketch to a full-size garment is such a demanding task? Is there a secret to preserving that creative spark?
SOS: Oh, definitely. There’s a way of pattern cutting that keeps the spontaneity alive. When I was at St. Martin’s, I had this amazing pattern tutor, Mark Talbot – he was actually Westwood’s first pattern cutter back in the ’70s. He was super strict, very charismatic (and a bit intimidating), but he’d always come up to me and say, ‘You need to cut these patterns like you draw’. It took me a while to really get what he meant, but I even printed an email he sent me and stuck it on my fridge that summer – the summer I started cutting like I drew. After ten years of pattern cutting, it’s become second nature. It’s all about seeing the pattern pieces as drawings, keeping the proportions and expressiveness intact. Draping is naturally expressive too – the final gown from our SS25 collection was draped directly onto the form, bypassing traditional patterns entirely. The secret is to trust your eye, cut like you draw, and don’t get bogged down by math.
h: You’ve drawn inspiration from George Cruikshank’s caricatures and Dada artists like George Grosz. How do you see the relevance of these historical references in today’s fashion landscape? What do you think they can teach contemporary designers about satire and expression?
SOS: I look at historical drawings as a kind of filter. I’m not necessarily trying to mimic fashion references from the past; I’m thinking about how I can reinterpret those influences on fabric. Research is crucial here – books, not just what’s trending online, because there’s so much more depth there. For example, what really drew me to George Grosz was his commentary on the Weimar Republic. His work satirised the politics of his time – he even went to prison for it. That kind of brave use of art to undercut power is incredibly relevant today, especially when you see the far-right popping up in Europe. Context is everything. When you mix historical references with modern design, it’s about understanding the original politics and letting that inspire a fresh, personal take.
h: You mentioned experimenting with appliqué techniques during a period of isolation. Can you talk about how that experience shaped your creative direction and led to new techniques in your designs? Has the pandemic influenced how you view your creative space?
SOS: When the pandemic started, I went back into education for my master’s. I actually applied as lockdown was happening and stayed in school until the pandemic ended. In the summer of 2021 – right when things had just started opening up – I even got COVID. That meant I was locked in my flat because you weren’t allowed out if you had it. I’d already been vaccinated at that point, so it was super boring. I ended up running out of fabric and had to work with scraps. That forced me to merge all my processes. I started looking at fabric the same way I look at paper. I wasn’t separating out my techniques anymore – I was just cutting patterns to scale, even trying to make a big coat out of what felt like a caricature of a drawing. Something clicked, and the barrier between the sketch and the final garment just broke down. It was like I finally got over the idea that there had to be a ‘final’ pattern; instead, everything just flowed together.
h: What is your advice for emerging designers facing similar creative challenges?
SOS: My advice is simple: fail a lot. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and taken a ton of wrong paths – everything I’ve done wrong has pushed me forward. If you’re a designer, you’ve got to be willing to make mistakes. Understand the fundamentals – learn to sew, drape, and cut patterns by eye. Document everything. I remember back at St. Martin’s, we’d do fittings all the time, scan every drawing, print things out and stick them on the wall. It all adds up. Whether you’re working with paint or fabric, keep making things. That constant practice is how breakthroughs happen.
h: Finally, how do you view the relationship between fashion designers and art collectors? Should fashion be considered an art form in its own right?
SOS: I’ve been lucky enough to work with clients who really appreciate what I’m doing. A lot of them are into art too, so there’s a certain kind of person who values both design and art. I’m not sure I’ve got a definitive answer on that – it’s a loaded concept, really.
Photography courtesy of STEVE O. SMITH