Hello,
I want to take a moment to step away from the usual announcements and collections and speak to you directly. This space, this members-only corner, is about more than fashion—it’s about connection, creativity, and trust. And because you’re here, you’re part of something personal to me.
Because being a member here means more than access to collections or behind-the-scenes snapshots. It means being part of a journey that’s personal, messy, joyful, and sometimes painful. And I want to share all of it with you.
How It All Began
I was ten years old when I first discovered my mother’s old sewing machine. I remember the smell of the oil, the hum of the motor, and the strange feeling of possibility it gave me. I could take a flat piece of fabric and, somehow, make it alive. It was magical. But it wasn’t “normal” for a boy to sew, and eventually, I let outside expectations push me away.
Still, creativity never left me. In my teens, I began buying second-hand clothes and experimenting. I’d cut them apart, stitch them back together, or mix materials that seemed impossible to combine. Each piece was a little rebellion, a little secret, and a lot of learning. That period taught me patience, improvisation, and the value of mistakes. Every flaw was a lesson, every tear an opportunity.
By nineteen, I launched my first brand, EraGraff. It was small, impulsive, and full of heart—but ultimately, it wasn’t enough. I realized that the work I wanted to create couldn’t be filtered through a concept or a trend. It had to be me, completely, without compromise. That’s when I decided to launch my eponymous label: Guillaum Chaigne. It wasn’t just a brand. It was a statement: this is me, my hands, my atelier, my vision.
The Creative Process: Chaos, Emotion, and Rituals
I want to be honest: my creative process is not neat. It’s messy. Loud. Emotional.
I often start with music blaring—sometimes chaotic, sometimes meditative. I’ll pace around the studio, sketching, tearing apart fabrics, trying to make something feel right. There are moments when I laugh until my ribs hurt, or cry unexpectedly, or just stand silently, lost in thought. These emotions aren’t distractions—they’re part of the work. Every piece I make carries them, and I want you to feel that.
I don’t create in isolation. My closest friends—my kittens, as I call them—are integral to the process. They are models, muses, collaborators, and reality checks. We cry together, sing together, laugh together, argue, dance, and then start over. They remind me of the joy of making, and of the intimacy that is at the heart of all creation.
There’s a rhythm to it. Sometimes, I’ll start a garment at night and only return to it days later. Sometimes, inspiration comes in a fleeting moment—a street corner, a shadow, a song lyric. I always have a notebook nearby to catch these sparks, because they are fragile. Every idea is a whisper of something bigger, something only I can translate into cloth, thread, and form.
Aesthetic and Philosophy
People often ask me about my aesthetic. I tell them it’s about contrast: structure and fluidity, minimalism and emotion, intimacy and universality. Oversized silhouettes paired with delicate details. Monochrome palettes that focus attention on form. Small handwritten touches that remind you someone—me—was here, making it by hand.
I’ve been inspired by designers like Yohji Yamamoto, Rei Kawakubo, and Jerry Lorenzo—but my work is never imitation. It’s interpretation, translation, and above all, personal expression. Every collection reflects what I feel, what I’ve experienced, and the stories I want to tell.
Prologue, my FW25 collection, was especially intimate. It was a return to where it all began: my bedroom as a teenager, the place where curiosity met solitude. It was not nostalgia, but refinement. Every piece was intentional, every cut and stitch a reflection of discipline and emotion.
Sustainability and Responsibility
Sustainability is not a trend for me—it’s a responsibility. I source fabrics responsibly: cotton from India, woven and dyed in Montreal; linen from California, transported overland to minimize environmental impact. I check labor practices, I consider every step, every partner.
But sustainability is also philosophy. I believe in repeating outfits, in reworking old garments, in creating things that last. Clothes are meant to carry stories, to evolve, to age with their wearer. That’s why I avoid fast fashion impulses; I prefer care, longevity, and transformation.
Montreal, Community, and Collaboration
Montreal has shaped me as much as any teacher, mentor, or fabric. Its creative energy is infectious, its culture inclusive, and its community supportive. I’ve learned that competition doesn’t inspire me; collaboration does. I celebrate other creators, and I strive to lift local talent while imagining our work on a global stage.
Why I Share This With You
I could have written a short letter, but that wouldn’t feel true. I want you to know the why behind the work—the moments of doubt, the bursts of joy, the rituals, the sweat, the tears. You are not just viewing a collection; you are stepping into my world. You are seeing the hands, the emotions, and the choices that create every stitch.
Being part of this members-only space is special. It’s a place of trust. It’s intimate. You are not just observing; you are sharing in the journey. I hope that when you wear my pieces, you feel the care, the emotion, and the honesty that went into them. That’s the gift I want to give you: access to my world, and a space to feel connected to it.
Thank you for being here, for stepping inside, and for trusting me to share not just my designs, but my heart.
With gratitude,
Guillaum Chaigne
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