BEN RADCLIFFE *The Refusal to Stay in One Role

BEN RADCLIFFE

—Rebellion, Reflection, and the Roles in Between

interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Ben Radcliffe drifts through interviews with the ease of someone leafing through a second-hand bookstore, picking up fragments and letting them fall. He talks about coffee as a cosmic mistake, acting as weather gone wrong, rebellion as simply switching the screen off.

Ben Radcliffe wears VALENTINO

His filmography holds soldiers, pickpockets, scandal shadows, lovers of revolutions — a drawer of misplaced identities. He remembers costumes that ignored the climate, cooling vests that worked like secret armor, rehearsed lines stripped of theatrics. What follows is Ben in his own rhythm — fragments, reflections, and the kind of unfinished lines that linger.

Ben Radcliffe wears a shirt and coat by SANDRO, a suit by THE FRANKIE SHOP, and a ring by TOM WOOD

Ben Radcliffe wears a shirt and coat by SANDRO, a suit by THE FRANKIE SHOP, sunglasses by PALOCERAS, and a ring by TOM WOOD

Alban E. Smajli
When was the last time you went missing on purpose, switched everything off, and didn’t tell anyone where you were going? And what waited for you on the other side?

Ben Radcliffe
I do this a lot. I think sport and exercise are a great reason to switch off and escape..

There’s something almost illegal about being offline today, especially in your world. What’s your version of rebellion?

I don’t see it that way. I think it’s very easy to switch off, especially social media. If I catch myself in a long scroll session, I will usually make up for it by doing something productive.
And my favourite rebellion? Les Misérables. Or Hamilton. Big fan of revolutions you can sing along to. 

You’re sitting at a café and there´s no script, no screen, or role to play. Just you and a black coffee. Where does your mind wander?

Wondering, “Why did I order a black coffee?”


What part of fashion feels like acting and what part of acting feels like dressing up?

If I wear something a bit out there, then it feels a bit like acting. Which is good because it’s fun to try something new. But if you feel inauthentic, then it’s probably not the vibe.

Acting on set mostly means wearing clothes wildly inappropriate for the weather. Five layers of sheepskin in the middle of summer, or just a thin shirt and trousers when it’s -2°C and raining (like one particular scene in Fackham Hall). On Masters of the Air we actually wore cooling vests inside the planes. The costumes were very accurate, designed for -40°C at 30,000 feet, but of course we were inside a sound stage. Without the vest pumping cold water around your body, you’d basically cook. 

Ben Radcliffe wears a full look by TOD’S, shoes and a bag by TOD’S, and a ring by TOM WOOD

behind the scene

Ben wears a full look by TOD’S, and sunglasses by PALOCERAS

You’ve played a pickpocket, a soldier, a scandal shadow, who are you when the cameras stop rolling and there’s just your reflection in a train window?

All of the above.

You lead in Fackham Hall. Let’s say they also let you rewrite the ending, everyone waiting for you to decide what happens next. How does it all fall apart or come together?

It all comes together very nicely. I think you should watch and find out. If I was in the writers’ room, I would sit in the corner and let the geniuses continue their good work. 

 Which three films do you always come back to, without knowing exactly why?

I’m really drawn to coming-of-age movies. Billy Elliot and The Way Way Back are some favourites that I can watch over and over.

When social media gets overwhelming and the silence starts to feel sharp, do you ever retreat into something paper — a book, a magazine, anything that just lets you disappear for a while?

I’ve always been a very outdoorsy type, so I never used to be a big reader. Although I’ve definitely been getting into it more in my 20s. I listen to a lot of audiobooks and podcasts, that way I can enjoy them on the move.

What’s your weirdest ritual on set?

I don’t really have any strange rituals, but I’ve witnessed many. I’ve listened to some outrageous warm-ups from nearby trailers and many actors doing interesting things to get into character. I’m pretty basic. I make sure I know all my lines and then I say them.

Are there parts of your career so far that feel like dreams you haven’t quite woken up from?

Working alongside John Travolta. He is a personal hero of mine and someone I grew up admiring. Performing alongside him felt very surreal.

 What’s something you’ve never said in an interview but kind of hope someone would ask you one day?

“Ben, would you like me to introduce you to Sabrina Carpenter? Here is her number…

Ben wears a vest by GEORDIE CAMPBELL, trousers by DANIEL W. FLETCHER, a jacket by DSQUARED2, and shoes by ADIDAS

Ben Radcliffe wears a full look by DOLCE & GABBANA and shoes by G.H. BASS

art direction + seen   ANTONIO EUGENIO
photo assistant   FENN REEVES
styled   KATIE DULIEU
assisted   MARTHA RALPH-HARDING & CECILIA COLLINS
grooming   CHARLIE CULLEN at Forward Artists using 111SKIN
film   SOFIA IVANOVA
talent   BEN RADCLIFFE
thanks   Caroline Fergusson and Grace Yeoman at Pinnacle PR

copyright LE MILE Magazine / Antonio Eugenio 2025

REDA ELAZOUAR *The Rhythm of The Family Plan 2

A New Pulse
Reda Elazouar on Omar, Prep and The Family Plan 2

interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Reda Elazouar speaks about The Family Plan 2 with the kind of clarity that comes from living deep inside a role. Omar began for him in a stretch of intense weeks marked by parkour sessions, stunt rehearsals, boxing drills and a steady routine that shaped his body and focus.

REDA ELAZOUAR wears full look AMIRI

The preparation built a discipline that stayed long after production wrapped; he still trains with the same consistency, still carries the structure that the job demanded. He joined a cast that already moved as a unit, and the film’s chronological shoot gave him a rare advantage, the story introduced Omar at the same pace Reda met his scene partners. The early days on set shaped the tone for everything that followed. Wahlberg’s guarded intensity, Monaghan’s warmth, the fast rhythm of the action scenes — all of it created a space where Omar’s openness grew naturally. He talks about those first scenes in London with a kind of ease, as if the city itself kept feeding the role through every corner they filmed in.

REDA ELAZOUAR wears full look by TODD SNYDER, belt by FRAME, boots by JIMMY CHOO, and a ring by MEJURI

Alban E. Smajli
When you think back to The Family Plan 2, what’s the scene that still lives in your body?

Reda Elazouar
I would have to say my introduction scene when I come out of the shower because the amount of discipline that it took to train literally changed the way I live my life to this day. In order to keep up with the amount of exercise that I was doing, after I wrapped I continued with the workouts and so I came away from the job a lot more disciplined than I was previously. The prep for that scene also involved eating much healthier than I was before so I stuck to that too, which definitely makes me live in my body differently.

How does it feel to step into a franchise where the chaos is already in full motion?

Amazing! I got to jump straight in the deep end and straight off some buildings. The first film did a great job at explaining who Dan was and the lie that his family had believed for so long but in this one, we get to the action pretty quick. Because of how familiar everyone was with each other already, it was super easy to slot in and be a part of that family dynamic. 

Working with Mark Wahlberg, Michelle Monaghan and Kit Harington — what dynamics emerged between the four of you that shaped your performance?

Since we filmed it pretty much chronologically, I didn’t know any of the cast well when I filmed my first few scenes. So our characters were getting to know each other at the same time that we were which was a welcome ‘art imitating life’ moment. That dynamic worked best with Mark as Dan had to be distrusting of Omar but as the film goes on they get closer. Michelle is so maternal as well in real life and in character so that helped make everything feel real. Unfortunately, the only scene I was in with Kit is when he’s chasing after the family so we didn't get to interact much which probably worked for the character dynamic that we had to have. Overall, though, the way all the cast were so welcoming helped me have a great time on this one.

What did this film demand from you that earlier roles didn’t touch?

A lot of physical prep in a short time. I’ve never had to physically prepare for a role before but the moment I got the call up I went straight into parkour, stunts and boxing training. I had amazing teachers in Tom Cotton and Kyle Freemantle who taught me everything I needed to know in order to look like I was a parkour professional. In the times I wasn’t training with the, I had gym sessions with Simon Waterson and Tim Blakeley to get me prepped for my first scene as Omar when he steps out of the shower. Since I had only 5 weeks to get in shape, all my time outside of these sessions were either spent walking to get my steps in or resting for the next workout. Even though it was a big task, I felt very privileged to work with amazing professionals who made the experience so smooth and enjoyable. 

After the production wrapped, what stayed with you the longest?

How thankful I was to be on a project of this size with actors that I had watched growing up. That feeling still hasn’t gone away and was there every day that I was filming. We filmed in such iconic locations around London and since I live here and walk around those locations often, I am constantly reminded of my experience.

Describe the moment you realized your character had a completely different rhythm from everyone else on screen.

It was actually in the first scene I shot which was in the Chinese restaurant. Omar first pumps the air and is happy when Dan says “you’re in” to which he replies “in what?”. That part made me realise how oblivious he was and how he doesn't really understand exactly what's going on. It’s one of my favourite moments in the film as the audience knows that type of craziness the Morgans get up to while Omar has no clue!

When you look at scripts now, what makes you pause — in a good way?

If I’m genuinely interested in the pathology of the character and start wondering why they’re doing what they’re doing then I know I’m reading a great script. Also, most of the time that I'm reading scripts is because I'm auditioning for the project and there's a certain feeling between nervousness and excitement that makes me feel like I'm reading a great script that I'd love to be unpack and work on.

Is there a role, a genre or a mood you’re currently orbiting that you haven’t played yet?

There's a few things that I can think of. I haven't yet had the opportunity of leading a film/show which I'd love to do whenever the time is right. I also would like to dive into theatre and back on the screen side, I would love to do a mockumentary. I've been writing one on-and-off for a while where I would play the three central characters and I think that could be a great challenge and also lots of fun.

What question do you ask yourself before stepping into a new character?

I’m always curious to find out what is intrinsically different about the character and I. At what point was there fork in the road where the character went one way and I went another. In that, I also learn the ways in which the character and I are similar and to what degree. So I guess to boil it down to a question it would be: “what would've had to happen in my life for me to become you?”.

Away from set life, what keeps your imagination awake?

I take acting classes in between working and mainly do improvisation with a company called Talking People. Every few months we do an improv show which helps keep me on my toes. It’s a place for me where I can flow and do some theatre in between screen roles. I also train in kickboxing which I’ve come to learn is a physical form of chess. It’s nice to be able to have a hobby in something that has completely different stakes from acting and keeps me fit and disciplined too. It also reminds me of a saying I heard once: “if you want to become a better actor, read a book on kayaking”. The things away from acting that keep my imagination alive will in turn help me become better at what I do.

Is there a piece of advice someone gave you that returns at unexpected moments?

‘Slow down’. When I first started training in theatre, I didn’t really pay attention to how fast I spoke and so when I’d rehearse I would just speed through the lines. That was most likely because I was so nervous that I wanted to finish as quick as possible but I remember my teacher Robbi telling me time and time again to slow down and make sure that I was heard. That was a tough task as when you have that adrenaline hit of being on stage, everything speeds by. But that piece of advice has helped me in all aspects of my life to just slow down and take the moment in.

If your younger self could watch you working today, what do you think he’d be most excited about?

I think the mere fact that I actually started working as an actor would be enough for my younger self to smile ear-to-ear. I was told from young how hard it was to get started in this industry, especially coming from a working-class background with no one around me that worked in the creative field. On top of that, being able to work with people in front and behind the camera that worked on projects that I grew up watching is something younger Reda would give me some cool points for.

credits
talent REDA ELAZOUAR
thanks to AMBER MOTTO / AMPR

seen DAVID REISS
styled HOLLY WHITE
grooming CHARLIE CULLEN

Arnaud Eubelen *Offline Design, Reused Materials and Urban Craft

ARNAUD EUBELEN
*Material Is Offline, Everything Else Just Scrolls Past

interview + written MELANIA MUSCI

Arnaud Eubelen’s design unfolds intriguingly at the crossroads of art and industrial design. Trained between Liège and Brussels, he has cultivated a strong interest in discarded materials, a fascination that has become one of his defining traits.

His creations are deeply informed by their surrounding environment, reflecting society’s evolution through the very materials it chooses to abandon. By giving new life to what is often overlooked, his practice opens a dialogue about consumption, transformation, and the narratives embedded within everyday matter.

Arnaud’s pieces are unique yet reproducible. Every assembly system and proportion is engineered for duplication, ensuring his work can be reconstructed without compromising its conceptual integrity. What changes, however, is the material itself—an element at the very core of his practice—shaped by the resources available in what Arnaud calls his personal hardware store: the city itself. This approach keeps each work flexible and adaptive, anchored in a specific time and place, and deeply rooted in sensory experience.

Diplomatic Corps / design by Arnaud Eubelen

“For me, the most rewarding aspect is knowing that an object will find not a definitive home, but a context where it can exist, be used, and activated.”

Arnaud Eubelen speaks with Melania Musci
for LE MILE OFFLINE Edition Nr. 39 FW25/26

Many of his pieces are designed to invite direct interaction: objects that must be touched, activated, and transformed, shifting in shape or proportions, and encouraging audiences to rediscover a tactile dimension that is gradually disappearing from everyday life. In this sense, being offline is part of the artist’s approach and an experience shared with those who engage with his work, where touch and physical presence are essential to its meaning. Arnaud reflects on the influences that shaped him during his academic years and on how he has found a balance between analog and digital processes in his creative practice.

He addresses timely issues such as social media’s impact on the creative scene and the gentrification of cities—forces that affect today’s available materials and will shape their future use.

Rooted in research, his work increasingly looks beyond urban environments toward rural spaces free from constraints, enabling continued experimentation and new ways of embracing an offline, tangible reality.

He Drank Us, 2019 Detail / design by Arnaud Eubelen

He Drank Us, 2019 Detail / design by Arnaud Eubelen

Melania Musci
Your fascination with discarded materials began during your teenage years, but initially manifested through graffiti art and photography. What pushed you to experiment hands-on with these materials?

Arnaud Eubelen
I think the first key influence was my industrial design studies. At the academy, the focus was heavily on how objects are made, their composition, and the strengths and weaknesses of different resources. At that time, I didn’t have the financial means to work with expensive components, so it felt natural to turn to what was freely available around me.
During this period, I also co-founded a collective with friends. We focused on creating decorations for clubs, organizing events where most of the decor was built from items we salvaged from the streets. That experience deeply shaped my artistic approach, merging a kind of scenographic sensibility with a fascination for the objects we discovered.
Soon after, I joined an artist residency in Toulouse, France, where the entire project revolved around creating a piece from objects found on the street. That experience made me start collecting discarded items more consciously and realize that I was far more drawn to them than to new ones.
This completely challenged the principles of my academic training, which had taught me to strive for objects that seemed entirely new. Through these insights, I was able to develop my own distinct perspective and let go of the frustration that came with chasing an unattainable ideal of perfection.

In a previous interview, you reflected on how traditional design studies can often shape and standardize the vision of emerging artists, potentially leading to a certain uniformity in their work. Given this perspective, if you could go back, would you still choose the same academic path?

I don’t believe this applies universally to every school. There are many design and industrial design programs, and increasingly, art schools are becoming highly interdisciplinary, integrating different fields. However, when I attended over a decade ago, things were quite different.
Today, through my experiences as a jury member, I see many schools adopting a very open-minded approach to how we engage with objects—not only industrial ones—which promotes a broader understanding of the things we interact with daily.
Despite this, I don’t regret my studies, as they were truly formative. I attended two different schools, one in Liège and one in Brussels, each with a distinct teaching philosophy. Liège focused heavily on industrial and technical aspects, with less emphasis on artistic expression. In contrast, Brussels, while still rooted in industrial design, pushed us to think conceptually and to delve into the motivations behind our desire to create. It was less about simply solving problems and more about clarifying your core intentions.
For me, this dual experience was invaluable. That said, whether a program is suitable depends largely on your personal goals and on the school itself. Perhaps the first question any institution should ask is: What do you truly want to achieve?.

Would you mind telling me about the design phase of your work? When building something new, do you start with the idea of the final object, or do you experiment with materials until they take on a concrete form?

It really depends. Some pieces are created specifically for exhibitions, where I already have a clear vision of the final outcome, and the process is guided by that goal. Other works, however, arise simply from the urge to bring something into existence, without a predefined endpoint. In that sense, context plays a crucial role: where I produce the work, and for whom it is intended, often shape the process itself.
The materiality of the object is also deeply connected to my surroundings, particularly the area around my workshop. I draw immense inspiration from urban spaces, public or semi-private places like bars, train stations, or other environments designed for people to gather, socialize, or wait. I’ve always had a strong interest in these in-between spaces that aren’t fully private. This environment often determines the materials I find and influences the way they evolve into new forms.

Road Trip, 2018, 70x100x50 / design by Arnaud Eubelen
photo by Ludovic Beillard

Altar Process / design by Arnaud Eubelen

The theme of this issue of Le Mile is "Offline," and that perfectly aligns with your process, which we could call totally analog. Have you ever integrated digital or virtual design processes into your work?

I typically use very simple digital tools. In school, I worked with more advanced software, but I found it too restrictive for my way of working and ultimately unnecessary. The programs I use now are minimal, focused mainly on proportions and dimensions rather than elaborate renderings.
They’re ideal for integrating my work into 3D models of interior spaces. For instance, if I can’t visit an exhibition site beforehand, I’ll create a basic model of the space and place digitized versions of my objects inside it.
These tools are valuable for visualizing how my work interacts with a given environment and, more importantly, for avoiding mistakes. The materials I use may not hold monetary value for others, but for me, they are unique pieces. I need to ensure I don’t waste them by making incorrect cuts or working with the wrong measurements. 3D modeling gives me precision, especially when preparing for photography or sharing my work on social media.

Staying on the topic of digital, do you think it's important for a contemporary product designer to share their work on social media? Since you're more connected to a "concrete world," do you find this challenging?

That’s a big question, and I’m not sure there’s a definitive answer, because digital platforms are profoundly reshaping our world. For example, galleries no longer hold the same authority they once did, as social media has changed how audiences engage with art and design.
On one hand, there are clear advantages. An artist can work from a small, remote studio and still reach a global audience. On the other hand, social media is largely about image. I’ve noticed exhibitions sometimes designed specifically to be “social media-friendly,” and that imposes certain constraints.
It’s a delicate issue because we still have eyes, hands, and bodies; we continue to live in the physical world. Experiencing objects in person should remain fundamental. Too often, we see images online without ever encountering the real object, and this can create a disconnect from reality and, in some cases, limit creative thinking.
This idea of disconnection is central to my work. I try to actively counter it by engaging with reality, context, and tactility. Many of my objects are interactive. You need to touch them to activate them, changing their shape or proportions.

That said, social media has undoubtedly opened doors for me. I would estimate that half of my projects have come from people discovering my work on Instagram. As I mentioned, it’s a complex subject, one we could easily spend hours exploring.

Do you think there are designers in the current art scene who are on the same wavelength as you? How do you see the world of design evolving?

Absolutely. There is a strong sense of community, or rather, several communities with distinct approaches and perspectives. For example, in Brussels, the design scene is relatively small for the country, yet vibrant, with many designers working in the hybrid space between design and art.
Belgium has only about three or four design schools, fewer than in many other countries. However, its position as a crossroads in Europe attracts a diverse group of people, many of whom stay because, I believe, life here is quite comfortable (laughs, ed.).
Within this field, I’ve noticed different motivations. Some designers focus mainly on commissioned work, responding to specific client requests, while others pursue a more expressive and personal approach.
What I find most important is the organization of independent, artist-led events. These are crucial for moving away from purely commercial considerations. Although selling work is necessary, too much commercial pressure can constrain creativity and impose standards that artists feel forced to conform to. We definitely need to break free from that.

Artists often develop a strong connection with their work. Have you ever found it difficult to part with one of your creations once it's complete and ready for sale?

Yes, definitely. However, in the end, I’m usually quite content. For me, the most rewarding aspect is knowing that an object will find not a definitive home, but a context where it can exist, be used, and activated.
It’s somewhat disheartening to think of an object being confined to a storage room or kept in a private space where the owner doesn’t interact with it.
I have held exhibitions where objects from my own apartment were displayed and sometimes sold. That created a distinct feeling of disconnection. For example, when a sofa you’ve sat on for a year is no longer in your home, it feels a bit strange, but that’s simply how it is.
What makes it easier for me is knowing that I can reproduce the piece. This concept is central to my work: my objects are designed with reproducibility in mind. All the assembly systems and proportions are engineered to allow duplication. It’s like a skeleton onto which different materials can be applied. The materiality can change, but the core system remains the same. So, while each piece may be unique in its specific materialization, it is not unique in its underlying idea or engineering.

Soft & Clear Prototype / design by Arnaud Eubelen

Considering that your upbringing in certain Belgian neighborhoods, with their social and economic complexities, was fundamental to the development of your art, how do you view the growing trend of gentrification in distressed city areas?

That’s a complex question. While I prefer not to engage in purely social or political debates, since my main goal is not to politicize my work, I can share my observations from the streets.
Gentrification, in a way, is reshaping the interiors of buildings. In Brussels specifically, many new owners and the government focus on improving energy efficiency inside buildings. This often requires renovations that are typically affordable only to those with financial means. As a result, the government unintentionally ends up assisting wealthier individuals, while those with fewer resources are pushed further out from the city center into the suburbs.
What I find particularly sad is the loss of unique interior character. Many beautiful and distinctive elements such as fine carpentry, original doors, and old floors are being removed to make way for a more standardized, “clean” aesthetic. These elements are often handcrafted objects from the past, carrying history and charm. In a way, preserving and reintroducing this character is exactly what I try to achieve by creating new objects from discarded materials.

You've often stated that you consider the city your "personal hardware store" or "materials library." Have you noticed a change in discarded materials that has gone hand-in-hand with the evolution of society?

I don’t think I’m old enough to have witnessed dramatic shifts, but it’s true that the types of discarded materials do change over time. In Brussels specifically, you can find almost anything on the street. This city has a rather unique approach to unwanted objects: people often leave items they no longer need directly on the pavement, which makes them accessible for reuse. This isn’t necessarily the case everywhere, as other European cities tend to have stricter regulations or different cultural attitudes toward street dumping.
If you know exactly what you’re looking for, you can often come across truly unique objects for free, items that can be valuable because of their history.
Naturally, there’s a lot of plastic waste, but plastic is very difficult to reuse, especially since many plastic objects carry strong, specific associations in our minds. I tend to reuse more neutral materials like wooden planks, sheets of glass, or cuttable materials such as concrete.
Historically, designers focused on creating objects by drawing them and giving them functionality. This makes it challenging to reuse objects from mass-produced functional goods because they are hard to disassemble. Moreover, more and more objects now include electronics, automation, processors, and so on. For this reason, it’s easier to reuse materials from architecture and construction. However, even in construction, the use of composite materials is increasing.

In the past, designing objects for easy disassembly was just the norm, not a “statement.” Now, packaging brands advertise how you can separate cardboard from plastic as if it were a special feature. It’s become something to highlight, whereas before it was simply how things worked.

Still on this point and regarding the gentrification we mentioned earlier, what do you think are the next materials destined for abandonment in cities that increasingly aim to escape decay?

That’s a very interesting question, and honestly, I’m not sure I have the necessary knowledge to answer it with certainty. It would require thorough analysis and in-depth research to make reliable predictions.
What I can say is based on personal observation: cardboard seems increasingly present in the streets, largely due to delivery and consumption habits. Designers like Max Lamb, for instance, have already explored its potential for furniture, which I find clever and timely.
Beyond that, it’s hard for me to make confident forecasts. I suspect that certain building materials, like insulation, could become a challenge in the future, but that’s more of an intuition than an expert assessment.

How do you believe your work and artistic practice have evolved from when you started until now, and how do you envision them evolving in the near future? What do you have planned?

My work has evolved significantly in terms of precision. Now, when I approach a project, I immediately have clearer ideas about connecting and assembling elements. I'm also focusing more on the exhibition setup and how to create interaction between the objects themselves. In terms of production, I have greater control over each step. This means my process is somewhat less experimental, and, though it might sound strange, less overtly expressive, as I lean more into that hybrid zone of truly functional, well-crafted objects. I really enjoy the paradox of questioning whether an object was mass-produced or not.
I'm also experiencing more collaboration with architects. This feels like a new, exciting step for my work: being integrated directly at the beginning of a building's life, reintroducing these types of objects for the long term. Looking ahead, I want to delve deeper into the idea of residencies, moving away from my workshop to experiment in different contexts, not just urban, but even rural settings or other environments.
Residencies, in particular, are a great way to step out of my comfort zone and alter my routines. My current work is a direct result of choosing to work with these specific materials. While this presents significant constraints, it also offers a unique shortcut. It demands constant adaptation in terms of time, economics, and technical approaches. So, in the near future, my plan is simply to continue experimenting and adapting.

Underground Party, 2020 100X45X50 / design by Arnaud Eubelen

“My objects are designed with reproducibility in mind. The materiality can change, but the core system remains the same — like a skeleton onto which different materials can be applied.”

Arnaud Eubelen speaks with Melania Musci
for LE MILE OFFLINE Edition Nr. 39 FW25/26

header image
Corner Table, 2017 / design by Arnaud Eubelen

TOM CULLEN *Trespasses, Michael, and New Role Insights

TOM CULLEN Returns Home

—and Opens the Door to Something Wilder



interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Tom Cullen carries a certain voltage—quiet, direct, and sharper than he lets on.

In Trespasses, he steps into a story simmering with political heat and impossible desire, playing Michael, a Protestant barrister who keeps choosing love in a world that keeps telling him not to. Cullen treats the role less like a performance and more like a possession, letting the character seep in through dialect, costume, and the rugged Northern Irish landscape that became its own scene partner.

Off-screen, he’s in a different chapter: new fatherhood, a move back to Wales, a creative instinct shifting toward the messy, human corners of storytelling. He talks about vulnerability like it’s a craft, about giving editors “colors to paint with,” and about the artists who shaped his eye. We caught up with him to talk Trespasses, tenderness, and the strange freedom that arrives when life rearranges you.

Tom Cullen wears a total look by PAUL SMITH

Tom Cullen wears JOHNLAWRENCESULLIVAN

Tom Cullen wears a jumper by JOHNSTONS OF ELGIN, a coat by WAX LONDON, trousers by 8ON8, and shoes by G.H. BASS

Alban E. Smajli
Trespasses explores intimacy and fracture within political tension. What drew you most to this story, and how did it live inside you while filming?

Tom Cullen
I was drawn to the powerful messaging that I derived from it. My character Michael, a controversial Protestant barrister, who defends young catholic boys against police brutality, says “We must have the bravery to choose freedom over fear”. It’s a message that is so simple, but when you dig into it, it’s surprisingly profound. Cushla and Michael are two people that choose to not be swept up in the narratives that surround them and they choose love instead, even at the risk of their lives. It’s very easy to get lost in these narratives and so it’s so important for us to take stock and not allow hate to win. It sounds altruistic and pious, but it’s true. Just look at the narratives today that are being pushed down our throats by those in power just to divide us. And it’s working. But we must choose freedom over fear.

How did you approach creating space for tenderness within a narrative so marked by conflict?

My partner, Alison Sudol, reads everything I do. She is a wise sage. She read Trespasses and said that Michael and Cushla were like two dandelions growing out of the smallest crack in a slab of concrete. I really attached myself to that image.

There is a lot on the page working against Michael. He is the hardest part I’ve ever had to play for that reason. You have to love him but there is also something unreachable about him. So the love and tenderness between Michael and Cushla was integral for the show to work. I just tried to lean into Michael’s vulnerability as much as possible. But it is his passion for life is that really opened the door to Michael and Cushla’s relationship. They find in each other a passion for life and that chemistry was very much found in my working relationship with Lola. Lola is mesmeric. They are fiercely intelligent, talented and compassionate human being. I just loved working with Lola and all the things that Michael loved in Cushla are the same things I loved in Lola. Lola’s passion for life is thrilling to be around. 

When you play a character shaped by history and division, where do you begin—voice, silence, or memory?

Obviously it’s a historical context which these characters exist in but the story itself is fictional and the characters are too. So while rooted in a history that I have quite a good understanding of - the majority of my work was character work - and thankfully I had an amazing resource to pull from with Louise Kennedy’s novel. 

A big part of my process as an actor - and I’ve got to be careful not to sound too pretentious here - is to just let the character flow through me. I have to step out of the way and just let who it is flow through. This is a slow, gentle process that comes through prep. Starting with dialect, costume, makeup…all these things help build the character from the source material and I just have to get the hell out of the way.

I can’t watch any playback when I’m working because in my head, I look like a totally different person. But when if I watch playback, I just see myself in the shot, it’s so weird and it can shatter the illusion in my head. It’s like one big episode of quantum leap!

What did the landscape of Northern Ireland give you that the script couldn’t?

It’s beautiful. And so is Belfast. The landscape itself is a character in the show.
Reminds me a lot of where I grew up in Wales. Something so calming about the rugged permanence of that landscape. It’s humbling in the best way. A reminder of your insignificance. 

Tom Cullen wears cardigan by IODELE, ants and T-shirt by A DAYS MARCH

Tom Cullen wears jumpers by JOHNSTONS OF ELGIN and pants by UNIQLO

In Trespasses, love feels both sacred and dangerous. How did you hold that balance?

Isn’t all love sacred and dangerous? Love is inherently dangerous. To love someone is a choice, but it’s a choice of pain, because all love will end one way or another. That’s what makes it the most beautiful, intoxicating and human choice to make; to make oneself vulnerable, to give yourself to another, is the single most profoundly brave action a human can make. We choose to love despite the pain. We choose to love in the face of grief. To love, is to accept death, right?

As an actor who also directs, how does awareness of framing and rhythm shift your process in front of the camera?

Directing and editing specifically, was the single most liberating lesson I’ve had when it comes to acting. I was lucky enough to have two brilliant actors in my first feature, Tatiana Maslany and Jay Duplass. The spectrum of performance I had to play with in the edit made my job as a director so easy. Since then I’ve enjoyed the freedom of delivering colours for the editor to paint with. It’s freeing and allows the best, most exciting work to happen. Where you’re not quite sure what will happen next. My favourite artists all exist between the lines of brilliance and disaster. I’m trying to exist there as much as possible. Let go of the control and the ego. Let it flow! 

What does this period of your career feel like—what’s anchoring you creatively right now?

Becoming a father has shattered any semblance of who I thought I was and in the vacuum left behind by sleepless nights, worry, nappy changes and the most powerful love. I have begun to reform myself as someone I like a lot more. It’s liberating to not give a toss about anything other than the very singular purpose of being a parent. Being a Dad is something I have always wanted but it’s changed me in a way that I didn’t expect.

You recently moved back to Wales—how does it feel being back in the place where your artistic instincts begin?

What a lovely question. I’d never thought about it like that. I’m reframing my move back home through the prism of this question and it’s making me quite emotional. We’re all on a journey, aren’t we? I’m not someone who really makes any plans. I turned 40 this year and that is something I never imagined happening, but having turned 40, I’m reflecting a lot. Reflecting on the journey. 

If I’d have told that little boy who grew up in the middle of nowhere Wales, making little plays for his mates on my council estate, that I'd be working as an actor one day…wow. What an incredible thing. 
And to move back to the place I had to leave to chase that dream? It’s immensely moving.

What do you find yourself searching for in the stories you choose now?

I’m interested in complexity. I want human stories, warts and all. Art should be an interrogation of the human experience. I’m inspired by filmmakers who capture the extraordinary in the quietest corners of life; Cassavetes, Joachim Trier, Chloe Zhao, Celine Sciamma, the Dardenne brothers. These are the filmmakers and the work I aspire to be a part of.

Quick fire, no commas:

A book that steadies you _____

Tom Cullen: Great Expectations 

A scene that keeps echoing _____

Tom Cullen: The dinner scene in A Woman Under influence 

A word you’re holding onto _____

Tom Cullen: Hiraeth

Tom Cullen wears a suit by JOHN LAWRENCE SULLIVAN, a T-shirt by A DAYS MARCH, and shoes by G.H. BASS

seen   WILL ALDERSLEY
styled   JACK MILLS via WERTHERS REPRESENTS
grooming   TRAVIS NUNES
talent   TOM CULLEN via TELESCOPE AGENCY

copyright LE MILE Magazine / Will Aldersley 2025

PRISCILLA DELGADO *on Transformation and Life Beyond the Screen

PRISCILLA DELGADO
on What It Means to Vanish and Begin Again

interview MARK ASHKINS

At seven Priscilla Delgado was already reading minds on Spanish television, headlines still calling her the little girl as if time had frozen in reruns while she kept filming, kept slipping into roles that stick to the skin long after the lights go down.

The little girl is still there, shadowing the woman who walks through sets of Euphoria lit in electric haze, rewriting herself in ways impossible to chart, transformations that accumulate one frame after another. On another project the orange jumpsuit clicks into place and suddenly the story is alive, the uniform shaping the body, escape rehearsed on rooftops with helicopters hovering, details carried into sleep, details returning in dreams.

Priscilla Delgado wears VERSACE

“Life gave me the chance to start my career at a very early age, and I haven’t stopped working since the day it began.”

Priscilla Delgado speaks with Mark Ashkins
for LE MILE FW25 - OFFLINE Edition

watch film

She remembers the first time a stranger renamed her in an ice cream shop, the baptism of being addressed as someone else, the odd thrill of identity folded back into fiction.

Characters sometimes stay lodged inside her, sneaking into gestures, contaminating her nights, refusing to leave with the costumes, reminding her that the boundary between role and person is porous, flimsy, optional. Scripts without punctuation, directors with too-perfect smiles, flags she reads instantly, warnings disguised as opportunities.
Offline she disappears into neutrality, outdoors where signal fades and thoughts scatter, into tasks that narrow her focus until flight mode feels like another form of presence. When the circus of productions pauses, she reaches for films waiting in the Criterion Collection or in her father’s private archive, unwatched reels stacked like maps of worlds she hasn’t entered yet. And always, there are the dogs. Coqui was the last, scooped from a roadside chinchorro in Puerto Rico between alcapurrias and a piña colada, carried into a new life within a week, another role cast, another story closed.

Priscilla Delgado wears a coat by DOBLAS and shoes by CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTIN

Mark Ashkins
We googled you. Then we stopped. What’s one part of your life the internet keeps getting spectacularly wrong?

Priscilla Delgado
Life gave me the chance to start my career at a very early age, and I haven’t stopped working since the day it began. When I was just seven years old, I played a little girl with the superpower of reading people’s minds. That role became my first major appearance on Spanish television, and it’s one that people still remember to this day. There are still headlines that refer to me as “the little girl,” a reference I find both endearing and curious, especially considering I’ve grown into something much closer to a woman.

You just wrapped Euphoria. Were there tears? Blood? A new tattoo? What part of you got rewritten in all that neon fog?


Given the universe of Euphoria, all the possibilities mentioned are entirely plausible. It has definitely been a deeply transformative experience. I’m not sure which part of me may have been rewritten, but what I do know is that it has been fascinating to gain such a profound understanding of aspects previously unknown to me.

You’re in Virginia filming a Prison Break spin-off. Did you sneak out of set in an orange jumpsuit just to feel something? What’s your favourite kind of escape?

Everything finally came together the moment we were given the chance to try on our uniforms. After that, everything else began to take shape. My ideal escape would be running up to the rooftop and getting picked up by a helicopter.

What’s more terrifying: a script with no punctuation or a director with perfect teeth?


To me, they’re both clear red flags!

Priscilla Delgado wears a total look by ABRA

You’ve been acting since before the world fully digitised itself—do you remember the first time someone called you by a character’s name in public and you liked it?


Yes, I remember the first time it happened. It was in an ice cream shop. It felt like being baptized anew.

Is there a character you’ve played that still lingers in your laundry, in your soup, in the way you blink when no one’s watching?


I have to confess that this has happened to me. During an incredibly intense week of work, I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night and found myself slipping into some of the mannerisms of the character I was portraying at the time. It was a terrifying moment because I always try to leave the character on set. But I suppose, as in this case, sometimes it’s inevitable.

How do you stay Offline without becoming invisible? Or is being invisible the goal now?

I really enjoy being in a neutral space and allowing myself to relax. For me, this neutral space is usually being outdoors in nature.

What’s your personal version of flight mode? A lake? A locked bathroom? The inside of your own head?

Being deeply focused on a task and not allowing any distractions. For me, being on set can be synonymous with being in flight mode, although theoretically, it could also be the opposite.

You’re juggling productions like a circus performer on a caffeine drip—do you ever feel like not being good at things for a minute?

All the time, I find myself unraveling the mysteries of the world. Meanwhile, I navigate this journey with respect and an open heart, embracing every lesson, while gently reminding myself to be kind and patient along the way.

When everything wraps, what’s the first thing you really do, once the Wi-Fi dies and the makeup wipes win?

I’ll probably lose myself in watching a film, choosing from the countless gems left unwatched in the Criterion Collection and from my father’s personal archive, which may be even more vast and treasure-filled, haha.

Tell us something you’re working on that has absolutely nothing to do with the industry. 


I strive, in my own way, to be of service to society, whether by contributing to causes that need support at any given moment. One of the things I enjoy most is rescuing street dogs or fostering them, giving them love, food, and warmth, and preparing them for their new forever homes. The most recent was Coqui, a little dog I found at a “chinchorro” in Salinas, Puerto Rico, when I stopped to enjoy some alcapurrias and a piña colada. We managed to find her a home in just one week!

Priscilla Delgado wears a total look by JULIE KEGELS

“For me, being on set can be synonymous with being in flight mode, although theoretically, it could also be the opposite.”

Priscilla Delgado speaks with Mark Ashkins
for LE MILE FW25 - OFFLINE Edition

seen + direction   PABLO MAS
styled   GONZALO ORUTÑO
art direction   MARTA OCHOA and YOSI NEGRIN
movement direction   MURIEL SEIQUER
make up   LUCAS MARGARIT
hair   TRINI ASTEASUAIN
production   SOFIA FRAMES
light   CLAUDIO OCA, CRISTIAN FENOLL + XAVIER BOUZAS
digital retouch   PABLO RIVERA

talent PRISCILLA DELGADO

Alla Kostromichova *In Her Element

IN HER ELEMENT
*Alla Kostromichova on Beauty and the Energy That Endures

interview + written SARA DOUEDARI

There is a certain intensity that follows her — not loud, but unmistakably present.

In conversation, she moves with the same awareness she brings on set: attentive, sincere, and luminous without effort. Alla Kostromichova has built a career on resilience, discipline, instinct — and a deep respect for the creative process. Here, she speaks about growth, purpose, and the rare alignment that occurs when the right people meet on set.

Alla wears a dress by DIEGO GULLIEN and shoes by EMPTY BEHAVIOR

“When I’m given real artistic freedom — not just showing garments, but becoming something — that’s when the magic happens.”

Alla Kostromichova speaks with Sara Douedari
for LE MILE .Digital

dress by DIEGO GULLIEN

lla wears a dress by R.L.E and shoes by EMPTY BEHAVIOR

Sara Douedari
How has growing up in Ukraine shaped the way you move through the fashion world?

Alla Kostromichova
I grew up in a small city on the Crimean seashore, in a 40-square-meter apartment with my parents and grandfather. I was born in the USSR and came of age in the 90s, when life was extremely difficult. There was uncertainty, chaos, and very little stability. That environment taught me to rely on myself early. It made me adaptable and alert — which is exactly what you need to survive in fashion.

We didn’t have fashion magazines then — only Burda or Make It Yourself, which people shared because they were impossible to find. I remember looking at those models like they were angels from another universe. I didn’t dare believe I could belong there. My father was a musician, sometimes he painted, and we always had music playing at home — Pavarotti, Joe Cocker — even if it was recorded in terrible quality. When he passed away, I was 13, and I started working during every school vacation. Hard work became part of me. So when I entered fashion and people complained about 14-hour days, I felt lucky — because I knew what real struggle looked like.
Growing up like that made me humble, hungry, appreciative, ambitious. And, yes — I wanted to prove something. To others. But also to myself..

What was the first moment you realized your career would truly become international?

The beginning of my career was mostly rejection. I had been seen by major agencies many times — and always heard no. I walked Armani in Milan, but nothing followed. I finished university with a degree in medical engineering, but I knew I couldn’t live a 9-to-5 lab life. Two weeks after graduation, I went to Paris — to a small, unknown agency. Months later, I was confirmed as a fit model at Givenchy. Riccardo Tisci was preparing a couture collection. I spent long days in the atelier, watching a collection being created from scratch. One day, I was standing there in a gown they were adjusting on me. The window behind me opened slightly and I saw the Eiffel Tower reflected in the mirror — and then it began to sparkle. My reflection and the tower side by side.

In that moment, a quiet voice inside me said: You did it. What changed was simple: I felt relief. Relief that I wouldn’t have to return to the uncertainty I came from. Relief that I could finally help my mother. Those were the two things that mattered most..

Fashion demands constant evolution. What has helped you stay resilient — and relevant?

I think there are several personalities inside me — and one of them is a wild, creative performer who comes alive on set. When I’m given real artistic freedom — not just showing garments, but becoming something — that’s when the magic happens. It’s an exchange of creative energy, and for me, that exchange is one of the core values of my life.

Not every model can bring that slightly strange, almost otherworldly, performative energy. But when I’m on set, I feel alive. People can sense that. Discipline, professionalism, and love for the craft matter — but that energy is what keeps me here. And I felt that deeply during the shoot with Stefan. At one moment, it was like we tuned into the same frequency — instantly. That alignment is rare, and you can see it in the images.

Alla wears a headpiece by JEROME BLIN, bottoms by WOLFORD, accessories by MEL + MARIE, and shoes by RAMI AL ALI

headpiece by JEROME BLIN

Through Ukraine’s Next Top Model, you became a mentor to new talent. How did teaching change you?

It changed me completely. We filmed seven seasons, and during that time I gained a large audience — with that comes responsibility. Around the same time, I opened my mother agency KModels. Teaching felt natural to me — as a child, I used to “play school” with my dolls.

Later, I started a summer model camp for teenage girls — not only to teach modeling skills, but to help them build self-esteem. Talking to them, supporting them — that opened a new part of me. It gave my career a deeper purpose. Unfortunately, the camp had to close during Covid, and the war ended it completely. But that experience made me stronger and more responsible — and it showed me the impact my voice can have.

Today, when you think about beauty, what matters more — image or presence?

Presence. Sincerity. Depth. We live in a world where content is everywhere. Beauty that is only visual doesn’t mean much anymore. What matters to me is the feeling behind it — a real connection.
In my agency, I see beauty in potential — in watching girls grow into strong, independent, self-aware women. In coaching, I see beauty when someone allows themselves to be authentic, vulnerable, real.

A truly beautiful person is someone who gives themselves the freedom to be sincere. Not perfect — sincere. Especially now, with AI and everything becoming more artificial, the value of real human presence has only grown.For me, the most beautiful thing is sincerity.

Alla wears a headpiece by SANDRINE BOURGMODISTE, a top by MAISON MOGHARAB, and shoes by RAMI AL ALI

talent ALLA KOSTROMICHOVA

all Images (c) LE MILE / Stefan Kokovic

Alla wears earrings and bracelets by MELISSA + MARIE and a dress by JUANA MARTIN

“A truly beautiful person is someone who gives themselves the freedom to be sincere. Not perfect — sincere.”

Alla Kostromichova speaks with Sara Douedari
for LE MILE .Digital

seen   STEFAN KOKOVIC
hair + make up   MARYSE KANARELLIS
stylist   STEPHEN BARRINGTON via STUDIO CTRL
bts   ANGEL FERRER BOSCAN
photo assistant   YANA LAUMONIER
beauty assistant   BEATRICE ROSE FATIER
interview   SARA DOUEDARI

Just Riadh *The Shape of Stillness

JUST RIADH
in the Flow of His Own Frequency

interview + written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Just Riadh carries a sense of awareness that feels immediate yet measured, a creative rhythm that unfolds from the inside rather than reacting to what surrounds him.

His world moves through frames that blur laughter and reflection into a single gesture, where editing becomes thought and motion becomes language. Nothing about his presence feels rehearsed; it moves with the quiet logic of someone who listens before he speaks, who lets feeling lead before structure appears. His work hums at the pace of attention, absorbing fragments of daily noise and turning them into a texture of emotion that lingers longer than the scroll it lives inside.

Riadh wears a total look ALAIN PAUL for the cover

“Being alone isn’t a void, it’s just the moment when you can finally hear yourself.”

Riadh Belaïche speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE .Digital

When Riadh talks, the energy shifts from movement into something slower, almost cinematic in the way ideas form and stretch.

Riadh describes silence as a necessary state, a soft, breathing space that lets meaning resurface after being dispersed by the constant pulse of connection. Each sentence lands as if it has already travelled through stillness, carrying traces of observation, intimacy, and restraint. There is no division between what he shows and what he holds back, only a continuity that runs through everything he makes — an instinctive trust in rhythm as a way of existing. For LE MILE, he opens that rhythm further, revealing the subtle architecture of how emotion takes shape before it becomes visible. The conversation unfolds like an unseen edit, alive with the sense of something quietly assembling itself beneath the surface. His presence stays within the moment, without urgency or distance, holding time long enough for it to mean something again.

Riadh wears a total look by ACNE STUDIOS

Alban E. Smajli
When you put your phone down, how long does it take before you feel alone?

Riadh
Depends on the day. Sometimes silence feels like a break, sometimes it feels like a slap. I’ve learned that being alone isn’t a void, it’s just the moment when you can finally hear yourself. We spend so much time connected that we forget what our own thoughts sound like. When I put my phone down, it’s almost like meeting myself again — awkward at first, then peaceful. I don’t always feel lonely; sometimes I just feel quieter. It’s not emptiness, it’s space. And that space reminds me that my worth doesn’t depend on notifications or numbers. It’s weirdly grounding, like hitting pause on a world that never stops talking.

Your videos move fast — when does speed turn into emotion?

When the pace starts saying what words can’t. Speed, for me, is how life feels when it’s too much — messy, loud, but real. I edit the way I think, so the chaos isn’t random; it’s emotional. Sometimes a fast cut says more than a sentence ever could. It’s the rhythm of scrolling, switching, reacting, but under all that motion, there’s a heartbeat. I like to think people don’t just watch the energy, they feel it. The movement becomes meaning. It’s not about keeping up, it’s about catching a feeling that flashes by in a second before it disappears again.

You’ve built a version of yourself online. What remains when the camera cuts?

Pretty much the same person, just quieter. The difference isn’t in who I am, it’s in the energy. Online, you give; offline, you breathe. When the camera cuts, I’m not performing, I’m just being. There’s something refreshing about not having to think in captions or timing jokes. That’s when I get to be slower, softer, and real in a way that doesn’t need to be posted. People assume creators are always “on,” but most of us crave silence. When the camera’s off, I’m not the highlight reel, I’m the unedited version. And that’s where I remember why I started doing this in the first place.

Riadh wears a trenchcoat by AMI, scarf by HERMÈS, and a shirt by UNIQLO

Riadh wears a top by AMI, vintage tie by CÉLINE, pants and skirt by JADED LONDON, and shoes by TABI

Your humor connects millions. What colour does quiet take in your world?

A soft grey. Not sad, not bright, just balanced. Quiet isn’t absence for me, it’s recovery. It’s the colour of breathing out after being loud for too long. People see humor as constant energy, but real humor needs stillness too. The funny stuff often comes from moments when I’m not trying to be funny, when I’m observing instead of performing. In the quiet, I remember that making people laugh isn’t about noise, it’s about connection. And to connect, you have to pause sometimes. Grey is that in-between shade where new ideas start forming before the next laugh arrives.

What does your younger self ask you now, from before all of this began?

He’d ask, “Are you still real?” And I’d tell him, “Still real, just better framed.” I think he’d be surprised, maybe proud, but also a little suspicious. There’s always a fear of losing your truth when people start paying attention. I’d tell him it’s okay to grow, to shape yourself, to play with light and angles, as long as you don’t forget your core. The kid I was didn’t care about followers; he just wanted to make people feel something. I try to stay loyal to that version, the one who created out of joy before anyone was watching.

Imagine a story you haven’t posted yet — what happens in it?

A guy turns off his phone and realises the world’s still here. It’s funny and a bit sad, maybe too real to post for now. In that story, he walks outside and everything feels louder, slower, more alive. He’s confused at first, like he forgot how to exist without a screen telling him how. Then he starts noticing things: people, sounds, small coincidences. It’s not a viral story, it’s a quiet one. No hashtags, no filters, just presence. Maybe that’s why I haven’t made it yet. I think I need to live it before I can share it.

Riadh wears a long veste by COURRÈGES, sunglasses by GUCCI, pants by THE FRANKIE SHOP, and shoes by NEW BALANCE

talent JUST RIADH

credits
all Images (c) LE MILE / Maxence Renard

Riadh wears a total look by DRÔLE DE MONSIEUR

“He’d ask, ‘Are you still real?’ And I’d tell him, ‘Still real, just better framed.”

Riadh Belaïche speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE .Digital

seen   MAXENCE RENARD
assistant photography   ELLIOTT SB
art direction   BENJAMIN DAUGEARD
make up   CHRISTOPHE PUJOL
assistant make up   CLEMENCE HELFMAN
hair   CLOTHILDE LAISNE
styling   FLORIAN SUDRES
assistant styling   AYRTON
movement direction   ISMAÏL
set design   DEBORAH SADOUN
production   MATIAS FAURE
assistant production   PAOLA RURIACK

Paloceras Method with Mika Matikainen

The Paloceras Method
Eyewear That Remembers Your Dreams

written + interview MONICA DE LUNA

Paloceras spreads across the table as frames bloom from sketches and colors press against translucent daylight. At the center, Mika Matikainen, co-founder and creative force behind the brand, shapes eyewear that grows in his hands, each form a quiet hallucination, a new skin for identity.

The old stable turned studio gathers objects with stories—large sheets of paper, bamboo handles, a loyal Olivetti typewriter humming, sculptures from vanished journeys. Every shelf leans toward experiment, every corner pulses with possibility.

Lines gather mythic form, softening at the edges while lenses shimmer with the quiet promise of change. Mika drifts between drafts, old ideas, bursts of color, textures pulled from the edges of the seasons. Candlelight flickers next to stacked books, loose archives of obsession and plans. Pebble, Velvet Rouge VX, translucent blue, wild honey—each frame gives off a subtle current, a pulse charging the everyday.

Paloceras, named for butterflies and lost afternoons, gathers light and memory in a single gesture. The process moves at its own rhythm, tuned to curiosity and the feel of weight and absence. Limited editions drift out of the stable-studio, carried by collaborations and the slow choreography of design, always searching for a new edge, another fiction, another face. Mika’s practice fills space with resonance, objects settling in the psyche and gently nudging the face toward the unreal. Frames move past accessory, falling into ritual, calling for a new kind of gaze at the reflection in glass. Paloceras skips across language and function, alive in the space between hand and dream, echo and artifact. Eyewear dreams up its own mythology and writes new bodies, all in the flash it takes for a stranger to see themselves—shifted, for a moment, by the promise of another form.

Mika Matikainen
seen by Carl Bergman

“It’s in our DNA. We imagined something magnetic without limitations, then found ways to make it real. It’s believing in self-transformative distortion in the ordinary. If you feel it, you go for it.”

Mika Matikainen speaks with Monica de Luna
for LE MILE Offline Edition - FW 2025 Nr. 39

Monica de Luna
You design objects that sit on people’s noses and rewrite their entire sense of self in under four seconds. At what point did you realise that glasses are less about vision and more about fiction?

Mika Matikainen
Straight from the beginning, so I would say it’s in our DNA. When it comes to eyewear, it’s all just repeating the same, and to us as outlier designers it felt appalling, so we took a step back, imagined something magnetic without any physical limitations, then scratched our heads finding ways to make it physically possible. But I believe it was worth the hassle for the good of people’s excitement. I really like that you paired fiction and vision, because that’s exactly what it is: believing in magical self-transformative distortion in the ordinary. If you feel it, you go for it.

There’s something about your frames that feels allergic to branding, or drama, even allergic to anything that moves too fast. How do you keep things quiet without making them disappear?

What a question! Maybe by revisiting older drafts, ideas, and concepts quite occasionally with Alexis, my co-founder, and trying to intuitively embrace or focus on details that feel relevant after they’ve had a beauty nap in our design archives. When it comes to a physical design object like eyewear, there are some limitations (that we don’t respect) that set the table for something in which a few creative key decisions define the product. If you just nail the details, it’s not enough.

Do you believe good design should leave a mark, or is it more like perfume, something people can’t quite name but keep turning their heads for anyway?

I’m not a big fan of perfumes, even though I love the conceptual thinking behind them, so yes, definitely a perfume-like floating shadow that absorbs into your psyche when you least expect it.

“Anything that comes from within is genuine and interesting. Time is a subjective pocket of life for each person. Focus on what resonates instead of seeking validation. Resonance to the max.”

Mika Matikainen speaks with Monica de Luna
for LE MILE Offline Edition - FW 2025 Nr. 39

A Paloceras customer walks past their own reflection and forgets it’s them for a second. Is that the point?

Exactly, the whole point is about embracing the paradox of multiple realities simultaneously. I see this as a bigger societal issue when people rationalise themselves into their fact-based truth bubbles. We need imaginary spikes piercing the imaginary bubbles between individuals, thus making life less imaginary through real presence. Those spikes can and should be used also on yourself. PUFF!

Walk us through your studio, what’s always within reach? What’s broken but never thrown out? And what’s there just to remind you that not everything needs a purpose?


Recently, a journalist who visited my studio called this space a Stable Studio, since this used to be a stable for three racehorses. Now, more boringly, it’s a set of two large desks with a lot of shelf space for objects of interest, a repository for ideas. Always within reach: large sheets of paper, ink, brushes, markers, pencils, candles, books. An old, fully functional Olivetti typewriter that just inspires by its presence. A bit broken but not thrown away is a set of bamboo handles and their parts for a bag project that’s been way too long on a to-do list. Objects without purpose are small statues or sculptures from adventures; they light up something in me even though I can’t remember the origins of all of them.


People keep romanticising analog, but most of them still refresh their inbox with two fingers. What’s your relationship with being unreachable/offline?


Love it. Still waiting for the era when it’s possible to transform sensations more directly into something tangible. A small, bitter forest cherry into a frame, or the feeling of wet moss after rain under bare feet as the haptic feel for a product. When you think about it, using digital devices is basically tapping glass or plastic with your fingers for hours. Numbing. Anything else is easily more interesting as a sensory experience. Respecting offline moments alone and with friends, and always having Do Not Disturb mode on.


Do you think your glasses look better on people who don’t smile?

Whatever makes people more themselves is desirable; then it’s up to them if they feel like smiling, writing, observing, or whatever connects them more with themselves. Our dopamine systems are so entertained by external stimuli that we should wear eyewear with mirrors on the inside of lenses to highlight what’s in there. Not AR but AS—as in augmented self.

How do you feel about people calling things “timeless”? It usually sounds like something you say when you’re afraid of death or passing trends. What do you call it instead?

If one is after trends then it’s acceptable to be afraid of death. Anything that comes from within is more genuine and interesting and “timeless”. What is timeless, or time, is a different thing. It’s a subjective pocket of life on each person’s own timeline and means something different for each individual. Briefly, our time is limited so why settle for something ordinary? But to answer the question, I’d focus on sensing what resonates on an individual level instead of relying on external validation points. Resonance to the max!


You live in Finland, does the weather there teach you anything about surfaces?

I’ve also lived elsewhere in Europe—in the UK, Switzerland, Portugal—and what I really appreciate back here in Finland is the stillness, especially outside the urban areas in real connection with nature. Maybe because Finland has one of the oldest bedrocks on the planet, more than three billion years old. Maybe it’s the silent grounding effect it evaporates if one’s open to it. Weather-wise, we have all the seasons quite clearly, so there’s the possibility of experiencing all surfaces with different additions such as water, slush, ice, snow, all in different light and air density conditions. I believe it’s the layer of details and conditions paired with experiences of similar things in other places, through different cultural and climatic lenses.

What do your eyes look for when they’re tired of being fed?

As far as possible, looking at the horizon, the sky, the sea, the leaves of trees. Also just looking around and pausing auto-labeling of what the eyes communicate, and sensing visual surfaces just as they are.

all visuals (c) PALOCERAS

SANDRA YI SECINDIVER *Building Yutani and Trusting the Silence

SANDRA YI SECINDIVER
on Building Yutani and Trusting the Silence

interview SARAH ARENDTS

Sandra Yi Sencindiver enters each project with precision that borders on ritual. Every element—tone, costume, space—serves a purpose. She talks about collaboration as architecture, where everyone builds toward the same tension.

In Alien: Earth, she gives shape to Yutani, head of Weyland-Yutani, a woman written into the myth of control. The world around her character mirrors her gravity, the sets by Andy Nicholson, the sculptural tailoring of Suttirat Anne Larlarb, and jewelry imagined from other planets.

shoes LORO PIANA

“Even though I’ve done this my whole adult life, I still have the feeling that I’m just getting started.”

Sandra Yi Sencindiver speaks with Sarah Arendts
for LE MILE .Digital

Sencindiver recalls the process as a study in trust. “You don’t need to make it big or loud,” she says. Her Yutani moves through rooms built on deference, a force measured by stillness and authority.

Between acting and directing, she occupies two distinct frequencies. In Watch, her film that unfolds like a slow pulse, she shaped rhythm through minimalism and control. As a director, she speaks of patience, tone, and the invisible choreography between crew and camera. As an actor, she returns to intuition and the chemistry of shared focus. The conversation moves through laughter, sharp honesty, and the pleasure of making. She speaks of Geek Girl, of award nights that end in chaos and applause, of risks still waiting in the dark corners of arthouse cinema. Sandra Yi Sencindiver is refining energy, tuning stories until they vibrate at the right frequency. Each project marks another layer in a career defined by curiosity, precision, and presence.

total LORO PIANA
jewellery CARTIER

Sarah Arendts
When you step into Yutani in Alien: Earth, the room changes. Do you script that power in advance, or does it arrive in the moment, born out of breath, posture, accident?

Sandra Yi Sencindiver
There is no accident involved, but there is trust. I will get back to that. So many people build Yutani up to be Yutani. It all starts on the page, the way she is written. In the way other characters talk about her. How they pay reverence to her. Then there is the choice of venues, the exclusivity and grandeur of the locations. The way Andy Nicholson dresses the set with such beauty. Suttirat Anne Larlarb, who’s just brilliant, developed this whole concept for her: exclusivity, exquisite tailoring, reptilian, almost brutalist jewelry. We imagined she wears rare stones and metals from other planets. We talked about Yutani as a woman who dresses for no one—not for men, but simply because she takes pleasure in aesthetics, in peacocking for herself. And at the same time, she knows her pristine appearance reflects her role as head of Weyland-Yutani. So, we never see her casual, never informal.

Then you have Connie Parker and Sanna Seppanen, creating a new makeup and hair look for her every single time. They are amazing.

Now back to the issue of trust. With someone who is that powerful, I don’t think you need to make it big or loud. You need to trust that a few but precise choices will be enough. I remember Noah writing: “she has the poise of someone who owns a fifth of the entire planet”. And in episode 1 we even learn she owns a lot of the solar system too, ha! So, I thought that kind of power would translate to walking on water. And I made her soft-spoken, because she’s so used to being listened to. She doesn’t need to raise her voice or move loudly—people naturally give her space. Well, until she meets Boy K, who gives reverence to no one.

Season 2 of Geek Girl is loading—
in one word, tell me the energy of your character this time around. Now expand it into a sentence that only she could say.

“Filip, tell this journalist that Yuji cannot be reduced to one sentence!”

WATCH was yours from the very first line on the page. If the film had a heartbeat, what BPM would it tick at, and who or what sets the metronome?

A very slow heartbeat, that slowly but steadily rises into an eerie, panicked pace—but eventually finds a kind, restorative rhythm at the end.
I wanted everything to feel playful and harmonious on the surface, with just a hint of something slightly off. As if all the pieces are bright and cheerful, yet there’s an undercurrent of unease you can’t quite place. That subtle tension builds quietly, until the truth begins to reveal itself. Then, a few twists shift the focus—leading toward a kind of resolution, but not the one you expect.

Seeking Hwa Sun—nominated for the Danish Academy Award Robert, an echo across the industry. Do you remember the exact second the news reached you, and what sound was in the room?

Well, a couple of months before the announcement, a jury shortlists 10 films from all the Danish entries to Odense International Film Festival and then the academy votes. And on awards night at the festival, they announce the final five nominees. So, when they called out our names, there was this huge roar of excitement and applause from the packed venue. Quite thrilling and overwhelming.

dress NANUSHKA
tights FALKE
shoes JENNIFER CHAMANDI
jewellery CARTIER

Draw me a split-screen: left side Sandra the actor on set, right side Sandra the director in the edit suite. What does each version of you whisper to the other?

They don’t speak at all, ha ha. The tasks are so different—they’re two completely different sides of me. On set, I try to be present in the moment, connect with the people around me, and focus on what the director, my co-stars, and the scene needs. I’m a piece of the bigger picture. In the editing room, I’m the one moving the pieces around, thinking about what came before and what comes after—deciding on the bigger picture. My brain is switched on in the editing room, whereas on set I try to let my body, intuition, and impulses guide me when on set.

Quick-fire, no commas:

book that shaped you

– “Trust” by Hernan Diaz, it really plays with and utilizes perspective as a storytelling device. It was conceptually something that inspired me a lot when writing Seeking Hwa Sun.

a scene that broke you

– oh, I’m such a softy when it comes to films and TV. I cry over so many beautiful and brutal pieces of art. I recently rewatched Parasite, and two scenes are just heartbreaking. The first is when Song Kang-ho’s character, the father posing as a driver, sees his daughter stabbed to death but can’t acknowledge knowing her—and so he can’t help her. And then the ending, when his son, played by Choi Woo-shik, spins this fairy tale about someday becoming successful enough to save his father from the basement. Both are devastating.

a silence you treasure

– when you’re with someone you know so well that you can share a space in silence and not feel the need to fill it with words.

a risk still waiting

– a female auteur offering me a dangerously dark part in an indie or arthouse film. Something Isabelle Huppert would have said yes to 20 years ago.

If tomorrow you had to build a film with nothing but three props and a window, what would you choose, and how would the story unfold?

Oh, what a fun task! I’d choose two characters who live in the same room but at different points in time, and they’d have the same three props: a cat, a bottle of milk, and a bed. You’d watch each of them live through one day in this room—two different people, the same three props, the same window view, but completely different perspectives on life.

Complete the chain for us:

On set I _____

try to be kind and patient. Actors spend a lot of time waiting between scenes—it takes an army to get everything just right. And then sometimes we’ll do the same scene over and over again from every possible angle. It can take hours of shooting to cover just a few minutes on screen. Both the waiting and the repeating can be exhausting. But you also want to give energy to your co-stars so they can shine, and at the same time conserve enough energy for your own moments in front of the camera—so they matter. And of course, the crew are under huge pressure too. There are so many moving parts, and the least we can do is be kind and patient, because everyone really is doing their best. Funny how the hardest work can also be the thing I absolutely love.

Behind the camera I _____

try to be calm and patient. Before I started directing, I thought it was mainly about sharing your vision and giving artistic direction. And sure, that’s part of it—but it’s just as much about setting the tone and the work ethic on set, and about seeing and bringing out the best in your cast and crew while still respecting budget and time. It was such an eye-opener to realize how important every single person and their role is. That experience has made me a more mindful actor, with even greater respect for everyone on set.

At home I _____

wish I were cooler and more patient. Most of the time I really do try to be kind—but why is it that the world gets your best bits, while the people you love most sometimes get the short end? Luckily, my husband and children show me an incredible amount of love and patience. And my kids, especially, are experts at calling me out when I’m being short-tempered. But they all know—because I tell them every single day—that they’re my favorite people in the world, and I love them to pieces.

In the future I _____

wish to bring more great stories to the audience. Even though I have done so my whole adult life, I still have the feeling that I am just getting started!

total THOM BROWNE
jewellery CARTIER

dress ISSEY MIYAKI
shoes JENNIFER CHAMANDI
jewellery CARTIER

dress TORY BURCH
shoes JENNIFER CHAMANDI
jewellery CARTIER

“She [Yutani] dresses for no one—not for men, but because she takes pleasure in aesthetics.”

Sandra Yi Sencindiver speaks with Sarah Arendts
for LE MILE .Digital

photographer + creative director IAN KOBYLANSKI
styling ELENA GARCIA
set design LOUIS TOLEDO
make up SASHA MAMEDOVA
hair ABI IGZ
lighting assistant NICOLA SCLANO

talent SANDRA YI SECINDIVER
via TELESCOPE

RAPHAEL DIOGO *Five Days Under Lights

RAPHAEL DIOGO
*Five Days Under Lights

interview CHIDOZI OBASI
written ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Raphael Diogo grew up between waves and asphalt, with Venice Beach feeding a body in constant movement, Jiu-Jitsu classes, soccer drills, skateboards, surfboards, mornings in Gold’s Gym where sweat turned into chance, a scout stopping, a conversation beginning, the kind that opens a door without announcing itself.

Modeling was already part of his family’s vocabulary, both parents carrying it as a lived memory, so when the first steps came it felt less like invention and more like continuation, though with the restless energy of someone who wants to carve out his own form.

total VALENTINO

“Getting the call for Jean Paul Gaultier’s Le Male campaign brought tears of joy, a moment of true fulfillment.”

Raphael Diogo speaks with Chidozie Obasi
for LE MILE .Digital

The notebooks filled with sketches, the hours of training, the steady rhythm of curiosity all folded into the way Raphael speaks about patience, about humility, about the strange elasticity of time inside this industry. He insists on gratitude as foundation, on respect as gesture, on presence as currency, and in that insistence there is no trace of calculation, only the sense of someone who has already faced enough uncertainty to know that the ground beneath him shifts constantly.

Jean Paul Gaultier’s Le Male campaign marked the rupture, five days in Bulgaria under lights and choreography, a job that required preparation of body and mind and delivered the quiet shock of tears when confirmation arrived, not from insecurity but from the sudden weight of arrival. That moment stretched into confidence, into a sense of place, into a reminder that careers are built in accumulations, in the way encounters layer upon each other, in how journeys fold back and expand again. Now in New York, Raphael continues the unfolding. Work, relationships, lessons, always the search for what comes next without a rush to define it too quickly. The horizon remains open, and with it the possibility of passing on everything he has gathered since 2019, the small fragments of knowledge, discipline, and energy that shape him in this present moment.

cap POLO RALPH LAUREN
shirt, sweater, coat + trousers PAUL SMITH
ring TITLE OF WORK
sneaker VANS

total EMPORIO ARMANI
custom eyewear KAT & PAUL AOUN

Chidozi Obasi
First things first: could you introduce yourself to us?

Raphael Diogo
My name is Raphael Diogo. I’m an American/Brazilian model, born and raised in Venice Beach, CA. I grew up staying active—whether it was Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, playing soccer for the LA Galaxy Academy, or skating and surfing with friends. I’ve also always had a creative side, spending free time painting and sketching. I now live in New York City, where I’m continuing to pursue my modeling career.

What made you venture into modelling?

Funny enough, both of my parents used to be models. I never gave it much thought until I was scouted while working out at Gold’s Gym in Venice one morning. At first, I was a bit skeptical, but then I realized I had nothing to lose—so why not take the risk? It really helped having the support of my parents when I was taking those first steps.

When did you realize you wanted to make a career out of it?

I’ve always taken pride in giving my best in anything I do. After being scouted, I spent the first few months learning everything I could about the industry. What kind of jobs are out there? Who’s doing them? Can people really support themselves financially doing this? How do I get to the top? I became obsessed with the opportunities and how much creativity the industry allowed me to express. The spontaneity of it all—every day being different—kept me excited about what could come next.

What has been the most challenging aspect of modeling?

The hardest part has been staying patient with myself and my journey. It’s so easy to compare yourself to others, especially with social media. My self-belief is strong, but there are times when I forget how far I’ve come—especially when things don’t go the way I hoped. I’ve learned that timing is everything. We all want to be part of amazing experiences and hit certain milestones, but we have to trust that the time will come.

blazer FEAR OF GOD
tank top CALVIN KLEIN
leather pants RHUDE
shoes RALPH LAUREN
jewelry TITLE OF WORK

short + vest ISSEY MIYAKE
bracelet + necklace TITLE OF WORK

 And how about your biggest pinch-me experiences?

That would definitely be getting the call that I was confirmed as the lead in Jean Paul Gaultier’s Le Male fragrance campaign. I flew to Bulgaria to shoot five days of TV commercials, print, and digital assets. It was the first time I really had to prepare myself—both physically and mentally—for a job. That experience gave me a level of confidence I hadn’t tapped into before. There were definitely tears of joy. It was a moment of true fulfillment.

 Is there anything you’d change about your career?

Absolutely nothing. I’m incredibly grateful for every moment that has brought me to where I am today. To everyone who has believed in and supported me since day one—thank you from the bottom of my heart. There were plenty of tough times, but I’ve been fortunate to have a support system that encouraged me to keep striving for greatness.

What have been your biggest lessons?

The importance of humility and gratitude. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve accomplished—what matters is how you present yourself and how you treat others. I aim to show up with a positive and professional attitude and to treat everyone with respect. We’re all human, and our time is valuable. I feel lucky to work with such talented individuals, and I’ll always do my best to spread love and positivity.

Final hopes?

I want to continue this journey for as long as possible. Building relationships and creating memories—that’s what it’s all about. Since starting in 2019, I’ve learned so much, and I’d love to pass that knowledge on to anyone just getting started.

shirt, blazer + trousers ZEGNA
necklace TITLE OF WORK
sneakers VANS

beret EMPORIO ARMANI
tank top CALVIN KLEIN
leather pants RHUDE
jewelry TITLE OF WORK

“I want to continue this journey for as long as possible. Building relationships and creating memories—that’s what it’s all about.”

Raphael Diogo speaks with Chidozie Obasi
for LE MILE .Digital

neck scarf HERMÈS
coat + jacket BRIONI
trousers DRIES VAN NOTEN
jewelry TITLE OF WORK
sneakers VANS

photographer ANKA GARBOWSKA
stylist TATIANA CINQUINO
grooming AMANDA WILSON
intro text ALBAN E. SMAJLI

talent RAPHAEL DIOGO
via HEROES MODEL MANAGEMENT

DEBORAH DE LUCA *Equality at 140 BPM

DEBORAH DE LUCA
*Equality at 140 BPM

written + interview ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Born in Scampia and wired for motion, Deborah de Luca takes the booth as a surveyor might seize a blueprint, her compass a strobe that scans the crowd.

She draws tempo across faces like lines of elevation, setting three instinctive tracks as a base layer, a quiet study before construction begins. From there she lifts the room piece by piece, each transition a new frame rising into place, until the set breathes as a structure of rhythm and light. Lately the final touch often glimmers with a Gigi D’Agostino refrain — a silver filament stretched through a contemporary shell, binding past and present in one luminous design.

Silence holds a private garden key for Deborah. Life surrounds her with music in studios, in clubs, in cars, so she seeks stillness and lets it refill the body. Between the first record and the last drop new selves appear and dissolve, across long marathons of four to seven hours, a full cycle of morning energy, afternoon charge, evening glow. One word: equality, a law for dance floors where categories melt and a single pulse writes a passport for everyone.

dress VERSACE
shoes LE SILLA

“In a techno club, it doesn’t matter if you’re white, Black, gray, yellow, Christian, Jewish, atheist—inside, we’re all of the same religion: techno.”

Deborah de Luca speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE .Digital

Her faith moves through cosmic grammar. God equals the universe, a field of energy, color, and music that answers when addressed with intention. She runs her label since 2013, appetite vivid for sound, image, cinema, miles. Tastes shift like seasons of the tongue, sometimes heavy and hard, sometimes featherlight and melodic, especially in the final hour when the sun inside her sets leans toward amber. Craft sits on both shoulders during those passages, melody braiding with steel, her signature: hard pop, techno fluent.
Small rooms feed her with a certain charge, afters where the ceiling breathes and the floor talks back, like that morning in Florence when the dial locked into hard art techno and a new facet snapped into view. The ugliest sound in her memory came from plastic whistles pecking at the kick, a fashion that squealed and left a sour ring. Spin her catalog from end to start and a path appears, a gradual climb shaped by taste and by the sound of her city, a line that rises in small steps and keeps rising.

When the lights rise and the room exhales, a ritual follows. Fifteen minutes of fierce self audit, choices weighed and corners checked, then a homing current toward bed, toward two dogs, toward the sunset that washes the house in gold and resets the chest. Flights create a sealed capsule where the pilot drives and the grid fades into distance, films flicker, thoughts wander, and nerves surrender. She wants the work to live on, a structure that other hands can lift and carry, music that glows with memory and future. Deborah de Luca composes momentum and mercy in the same breath, a builder who treats crowds like cities and nights like blueprints, and across seven hour marathons or one hour transmissions the mission stays constant, read the room, raise the structure, leave them with a song that follows them home. For a long, long while. Always.

top VOFT KNIT
skirt RICK OWENS

Alban E. Smajli
Your sets feel like architecture. What’s the last thing that shattered your sense of control?

Deborah de Luca
I take “architecture” as a compliment, but honestly, there’s not much pre-built. The first three tracks I already know, because I need time to read the room and understand who’s in front of me. Those first 15 minutes are my time to analyze. From there, I build what comes next. Maybe that’s architecture, but it happens live, piece by piece. Only when I play a DJ set that’s streamed online, like for the Street Parade or my live shows from the Vele di Scampia or at Maradona Stadium those are the only sets I prepare at home. They’re not random but carefully studied since they’ll have media exposure. I decide on the tracks beforehand, or even create some pieces specifically for the occasion, but I never fix their order.

You grew up in Scampia. Now you tour the world pulsing through Funktion-Ones. Is there still a part of you that hears silence and gets suspicious?

Actually, I love silence, I don’t become suspicious. When I get in the car, I turn the music off; if a driver is with me, I turn it off; if I’m at a restaurant, I like silence. Because I live constantly with music—when I make it, when I listen to others, when I work in clubs, or when I hear someone play before or after me. So I need silence, I look for it, it regenerates me.

How many versions of you exist between the opening track and the last drop at 4:37 a.m.?

The first track is always mine, the last one is usually not, especially lately, when I like closing with a Gigi D’Agostino piece from the early 2000s. So no, I’m not the same from the first to the last track. I take a journey, especially if I play long sets of 4, 5, even 7 hours. I’m not the same person from the first to the last record. Sometimes I come back, then I drift away—it’s the same in life. You wake up one way in the morning, by afternoon you have different energy, and in the evening it changes again.

Do you believe in God? Or just in bass?

I believe, but not in the God most people think of—not that man with long hair and blue eyes, born in Jerusalem, who should have been darker-skinned anyway. I don’t believe in that. I believe in the universe. For me, God is the universe. When you ask for something, you ask the universe. The energy comes from the universe, you attract it. To me, that’s the same thing—God is the universe. But it has no human figure; it’s everything around us: energy, colors, music. That, for me, is God.

top VOFT KNIT
skirt ISZA
lip ring ASK & EMBLA

You run your own label. Do you still feel hunger, or is it something deeper now? Obsession maybe, or ritual?

I’ve managed my label alone since 2013. I’m always hungry, and that will never pass—whether for music, colors, friendships, films, travel. Hunger will never leave me. Sometimes I just change tastes—sometimes I want sweet, sometimes salty. In music, sometimes heavier, harder; other times softer, like in the last hour of long sets. But yes, the hunger never fades.

Do you miss the chaos of small clubs? The kind where the smoke machine breaks and the floor sweats back at you?

I miss the energy of small clubs a lot. Sometimes, when after a festival I play a little after-party in a small place, I’m really happy, because you’re closer to people. It also gives me a different idea of music, I play differently. For example, last time in Florence, in a club after a festival, I was much harder than usual—very art-techno. I discovered a new side of myself there.

What’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard on stage?

When the sound system isn’t as it should be and the monitor speaker starts crackling, it’s terrible — it breaks the magic.

If someone played your full discography backwards, what message would emerge?

You’d hear the journey. Where I started slowly, climbing step by step—not mountains, just hills. I evolved with my own taste, with people’s taste, with the sounds around me, with the influences of my city. You’d hear that it’s been a steady path upward—not of highs and lows, but always slowly rising.

Techno doesn’t need words, but if it did—what would yours be? Just one.

Equality. In a techno club, it doesn’t matter if you’re white, Black, gray, yellow, Christian, Jewish, atheist—nobody cares. Inside, we’re all of the same religion: techno. And that’s something very beautiful.

What keeps you OFFLINE when your whole life runs on voltage and signal? Or is OFFLINE just a myth sold to the unplugged?

My home, my dogs, the sunset at home. Also when I fly. Yesterday I had a 14-hour flight and could have connected, but I didn’t. On planes, I let the pilot drive, I rest, I disconnect completely. When I’m not flying, it’s still my dogs and my home that keep me offline.

You’ve built something—music, myth, a kind of feminine rage wrapped in steel. Do you ever worry it’ll outgrow you?

No, I don’t think it can become bigger than me. Music is understandable for everyone, and even if it grows, it remains something elementary. I never feared it could outgrow me.

When the lights come up and the bodies thin out, when it’s just sweat on the floor and silence in the booth, where does your mind go? Who do you become when the music stops?

Honestly, I’m very tough on myself. The first 15 minutes after a set I spend thinking I haven’t done my very best—that I should have played another track, that something was too easy, too commercial, or too hard. Even when everyone says it was great, I criticize myself. Then I can’t wait to get into bed, and to go home to my dogs.

“For me, God is the universe. Energy, colors, music—that, for me, is God.”

Deborah de Luca speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE .Digital

top YVY LEATHER
panties MAISON CLOSE

photographer NICHOLAS FOLS
styling + production ANCA MACAVEI
styling assistants JYOTHSANA SELVAM + LESLIE GUERRA
assistant on set MELISSA RUSSO

talent
DEBORAH DE LUCA

YULIA PAVLEN *When You´re Strange

YULIA PAVLEN
*When You´re Strange

written + interview HANNAH ROSE PRENDERGAST

POV: You embrace who you are, learn to laugh at yourself, and never fear standing out. —a friendly reminder from Yulia Pavlen.

Born in the early years of Ukraine’s independence, she grew up during a time of radical transformation. Ever the optimist, she carried bright, artful memories of home when she moved to Berlin in 2022.
In this new city, where being strange felt less like an exception and more like a shared language, her TikTok became an extension of how she moved through the world. If you see Yulia doing her makeup on the subway, the best thing you can do is be her mirror.

Shooting outdoors in 40°F (5°C) weather was one of my most challenging experiences. I wore five looks, most of which were lightweight—one was just a skirt and bra. I was freezing the whole time but didn’t say anything. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, so I focused on giving my best.
The team was amazing, checking in regularly, which I really appreciated.
I also faced my fear of heights: sitting on a subway exit railing, standing in a second-floor windowsill, and posing on an electrical box.
Despite the challenges, I’m incredibly grateful for the experience. I love stepping out of my comfort zone. My motto is, 'This scares me, but let’s try it. ' Taking risks and pushing myself are just who I am.
When I’m doing what I love, I forget about the discomfort. It feels like leaving the world behind and stepping into a space where I can express myself freely.

—Yulia Pavlen

Yulia Pavlen
Coverstory LE MILE Ephemeral Edition Nr. 38 / 01/2025
seen by Per Appelgren, wearing CELINE

“I was always Daddy’s little girl … riding on his motorcycle gave me my first real taste of freedom.”

Yulia Pavlen speaks with Hannah Rose Prendergast
for LE MILE Issue 38 / Ephemeral Edition SS25

coat JOSHUA SENGESPEICK

top CELINE
panties MIU MIU
shoes AEYDE
coat JOSHUA SENGESPEICK

Hannah Rose Prendergast
What inspired you to start your Get Ready With Me series on the subway?

Yulia
When creating new content, I always ask myself, ‘Would this idea hook me?’ The GRWM concept came to me almost by accident as I reflected on what would genuinely captivate me. I love makeup and often do it in public spaces, so the idea feels natural. Moving forward, I want to improve the quality of my content, especially in terms of lighting and video production. I’m always brainstorming new ideas. On TikTok, you can never be sure if an idea will succeed—you have to try it out and see how viewers respond.

How do you and your camerawoman work together to bring your vision to life?

My camerawoman, Valeria Shelihova, is also a close friend. Although we’re both from Ukraine, we met in Berlin. We have a great connection and often communicate without speaking. I provide the creative direction, and Valeria captures it all as it unfolds.

What do you find therapeutic about creating content?

It sounds odd, but I thrive on not being accepted by everyone. Not everyone rejects me for wearing makeup, but many people do. That energy of rejection, rather than breaking me, fuels my determination. I’ve learned to stand firm and not let others’ opinions affect me. When you stand your ground and refuse to let negativity define you, that’s when you truly win—and there’s no better feeling than that.

How has your artist name changed over time, and what does it mean to you now?

As a teenager, I went by 'Autistic' and even got it tattooed. I chose the name because I was reserved, shy, and had no friends. People thought something was wrong with me. At the time, I was studying in art college, immersing myself in painting and classical literature. I saw myself as a strange, lyrical character named 'Autistic.'

When I moved to Berlin, I was set to collaborate with a designer, but he declined because of my name. That’s when I realized it might be holding me back professionally. I wanted a name that feels more like me—timeless, elegant, and strong. Yulia Pavlen aligns more with where I’m heading, both creatively and professionally.

top CELINE
panties MIU MIU
shoes AEYDE

total look SPORTMAX
shoes AEYDE

“Moving to Berlin wasn’t easy, but thanks to the kindness of strangers, I never felt alone.”

Yulia Pavlen speaks with Hannah Rose Prendergast
for LE MILE Issue 38 / Ephemeral Edition SS25

top NICKLAS SKOVGAARD
tights FALKE
necklace PEARL OCCTOPUSS.Y

What was your experience growing up in Ukraine and then moving to Berlin?

I’m from Kharkiv, Ukraine’s first capital—a beautiful yet industrial city with a unique charm. I grew up in the Saltovka neighborhood, which endured heavy shelling due to its proximity to the Russian border. Soviet-era panel housing shaped much of my early years, but despite everything, I love Kharkiv and its people—they are kind, resilient, and have an incredible sense of humor.

Moving to Berlin wasn’t easy, but I was fortunate to meet incredible people who helped me with housing and paperwork and made me feel like family despite being strangers. Thanks to their kindness, I never felt alone or afraid of not knowing German. They were always there to support me. Living in Europe changed me. People here are much more supportive than in Ukraine. Back home, I often felt misunderstood or ridiculed. I guess I was a bit too different. Now, I’m excited to collaborate with talented professionals in the fashion industry from around the world.

Who introduced you to the world of art?

As an artist, my father exposed me to art from a young age. He often took me to exhibitions and museums and filled our home with books on classical and modern art. He also gave me many of his art materials, which became my first tools for creativity. I’m deeply grateful to him for immersing me in this world. I always knew I would become an artist—it was never a question. I dedicated myself to studying academic art, including drawing, painting, composition, and anatomy. I was incredibly passionate, and art became a way to express my thoughts and feelings. Although I’m not currently drawing, I may return to it someday.

How did you learn to ‘own your glow’?

The modeling industry values uniqueness and a distinctive edge more than conventional beauty. Many incredibly beautiful people struggle to present themselves. This skill comes from knowing who you are and embracing what sets you apart. Owning your glow is essential—it will shine through your work and light up the space around you.

Why should you believe in the kindness of strangers?

I always choose to believe in the good—it is a mindset that works best for me. The same goes for people I don’t know. I don’t dwell on whether they’re good or not; instead, I prepare myself mentally and emotionally to believe nothing bad will happen to me.

What change do you want to see in yourself and the world?

I want world peace. War is the worst thing that can happen. Personally, I want to be more patient with myself in achieving my goals. Good results take time.

What’s one of your core memories from childhood?

I was always Daddy’s little girl, spending most of my time by his side. He often took me on motorcycle rides, and I especially loved the thrill of racing down the expressway with him. Those moments gave me my first real taste of freedom.

top CULT FORM
skirt NICKLAS SKOVGAARD
tights WOLFORD
shoes AEYDE
accessoires CELINE

photographer PER APPELGREN
creative + art direction STUDIO NONSENS / STEFANIE SCHELLWIES + LISANNE KURTH
talent YULIA PAVLEN
styling NESSIE
hair MASAYUKI YUASA using Less is More Organic Cosmetic
make up LEE HYANGSOON using Gucci Beauty
production ENLIL via AVEC NOUS BERLIN
moving image METTE NORDVIG
light LIAM MULLIGAN
digi TOBIAS ORTMANN
social KARLA SCHRADI
retouch ROMARIO MAHEER

production coordination + booking lemilestudios

first published
LE MILE Ephemeral Edition Nr. 39 (2025)

PiTA *Sacred Territories

PiTA
*Sacred Territories

written + interview MARK ASHKINS

PiTA’s work is a current, an unseen force moving through space, unbound by time. Her process is a pulse, a frequency felt in the marrow, where every action is a spell cast in movement and form. There is no arrival, only the endless unfolding of what has already begun.

Her hands know the weight of inheritance. Walking barefoot on sun-scorched mountains, mapping invisible lines between body and land, she stitches the air with numerology’s unseen architecture. Symbols dictate rhythm, thread extends beyond the edge, fabric refuses to end. The act of making is the act of knowing, of returning to a knowledge that has never left.

Each piece, each ceremony, each moment is a gesture—a call and an answer, happening in the same breath. The body is an archive, a site of memory and inscription, absorbing and releasing. The loom moves, the body bends, the weave extends beyond its last stitch. PiTA opens a space where time moves differently, where the act of creation is simply what must be done.


“My stories have never been easy—marked by violence, discrimination, and pain. But my body, unlike any other love, taught me how to love.”

PiTA speaks with Mark Ashkins
for LE MILE Ephemeral Edition - SS 2025 Nr. 38

Mark Ashkins
From curating events to creating designs—where does the pulse of your creativity hit hardest? In the planning, the making, or that fleeting moment it al comes alive?

PiTA
When a baby was born in our family, my maternal great-grandmother always gifted a gold jewel to the newborn, believing that gold repels bad energies. That jewel became an amulet of protection and good fortune. I return to that symbolic act as a reminder of the power of intention, of the way objects carry energy. I feel deeply connected to creation through my body—my uterus, my chest. Each project, whether it’s shaping the atmosphere of a ceremony, weaving a sculpture from two hundred meters of cempasúchil flowers, or walking, unclothed in soul and skin, through the mountains to be photographed, becomes a small birth. I rest, live, and nourish myself in these moments.

Your connection to the land and community in Oaxaca feels like the heartbeat of your work. How does that bond weave itself into your creative world?

To help my body form the arch of my feet, my father took me every afternoon to walk across mountains of hot earth. That was my initiation, my connection to the land, my integration into the rituals of my community. My work is self-referential. I open what is inside me, decontextualizing what has always existed in a fixed place.

Numerology feels like a hidden map. How do its patterns and symbols shape the way you see or create?

Inherited wisdom and the numbers of my birth date form a path that guides my intuition. I also find guidance in textiles—their numerical patterns, sequences, and rhythms. I work with a weaving technique that restores the soul, a symbol of second chances. In Oaxaca’s prisons, this technique is taught to those deprived of liberty. From behind bars, they weave bags that their families sell to sustain themselves. Traditionally called the ‘basket weaving technique,’ I call it ‘infinite weaving’ because it is a spiral with no true end. The illusion of completion exists, but in reality, the weave always has the potential to continue.

jewelry LODEPECH

“Each project, whether it’s shaping the atmosphere of a ceremony, weaving a sculpture from two hundred meters of cempasúchil flowers, or walking, unclothed in soul and skin, through the mountains to be photographed, becomes a small birth.”

PiTA speaks with Mark Ashkins
for LE MILE Ephemeral Edition - SS 2025 Nr. 38

Using your body as a canvas and a voice—what have you learned about the stories it holds and the spaces it occupies?

My nature provokes. It reveals what others carry within them while expanding what I carry inside myself. My stories have never been easy—marked by violence, discrimination, and pain. But my body, unlike any other love, taught me how to love. Through loving myself, I came to understand all bodies as sacred territories, deserving of honor, dignity, freedom, and respect.

Your events are caled ‘unrepeatable experiences.’ How do you create something that leaves a permanent mark?

Life is an unrepeatable experience—shifting, filled with characters, emotions, scenarios, loves. If I had to illustrate the surreal, fleeting nature of the human universe, I would point to a painting by the Oaxacan artist Rodolfo Morales, where all realities coexist, happening simultaneously. I open my own universe with love and honesty, stepping with respect and without judgment into the open universe of others.

How do you create space for stillness and generosity amid the constant rush and noise?

I come from a family of farmers. Cultivating plants instilled patience, the wisdom of giving, and the humility of receiving. Living alongside plants, following their cycles, develops an intuition aligned with the rhythm of the earth—one that mirrors our own human cycles. From my family, I’ve learned that there is a time and a season for everything, that nature dictates when to move forward and when to pause, and that to understand what is inside, one must observe what is outside.

Your designs carry the soul of tradition, but they slip effortlessly into the now. How do you move between these two worlds without losing their essence?

My grandfather and father passed down a gift to me—the ability to walk without getting lost. They travel from town to town, mountain to mountain, guided only by intuition. I walk constantly. My feet are my preferred mode of transport, carrying me into the unknown. I find joy in what is unfamiliar, spending much of my time there, in the other. Yet, I always find my way back to my own.

Art often walks the line between rebelion and preservation. Where does your work sit in that conversation?

Being and doing are woven from the same thread—the one that connects past and future through the present. I have always been rooted, untamed, and free. These traits shaped my childhood and continue to define my existence. Nothing should take away our freedom.

Which designer or brand feels like a mirror to your vision—timeless, but alive in the moment?

Salo Shayo—friend, visionary, and resident designer of Mexico City. His last collection, New Ode, was a love letter to pre-Hispanic and contemporary Mexico. Through ten symbolic outfits, he captured the fusion of all of Mexico’s eras—those that have passed, the one we live in now, and, seductively, a glimpse of those yet to come.

What’s a recent fashion show, colection, or creative moment that made you stop and feel something real?

A Lucha Libre presentation at the iconic San Francisco Arena in Oaxaca. Lucha Libre is a ritual, a spectacle—martial arts fused with acrobatics, theater, and maximalist fashion. When the wrestlers enter the ring, they walk a perfect balance on the ropes, wearing masks that conceal their identity, costumes that radiate vibrancy—sequins, iridescent fabrics, bold colors. But these garments mean nothing without the force, the character, the life the fighters infuse them with. Choosing a mask and costume is a profound decision. Every shape, texture, and symbol is selected with care, for they will accompany the wrestler throughout their career. That level of intention, that search for something so deeply aligned with one's true self, moves me. Even as time passes and things change, that essence remains, unwavering in its truth.

model PITA ANTONIO VELASCO
photography TATSUMI MILORI
styling + creative direction EVA BERNAL

SADIQ DESH *Sheer Delight

SADIQ DESH
*Sheer Delight

written CHIDOZIE OBASI

As a creative fresh into his path whilst showing a patience that equates to burgeoning success, 29-year-old Sadiq Desh isn’t ready to rest on his laurels just yet.

“Over the last year, I’ve had some firsts!” he exclaimed, adding that “I saw a lot of me honing on my social media style and modeling.” Born in Nigeria and now hailed in Berlin, he finished high school and moved to Canada to pursue his Bachelor’s degree, working in finance for a year before switching to the fashion sector.

Desh deems Canada “a small market,” so it wasn't until the pandemic when he moved to Berlin and started gaining more of a following on social media that he ventured into the creative world. On the impact of industry, he speaks candidly about the complexities of the system. “It still goes in waves I think,” he opines. “Just being in Germany, across the fashion scope and within the influencer community there isn’t much inclusion, which is why I'm happy independent outlets — like yours — exist and represent people who look like me, because there’s media that keep using influencers or models who look exact same, so seeing that is always a bit frustrating because they could maybe tap out of their usual zone and give people a different dimension of what they do rather than using the same kind of boys all the time,” he adds.

“Sometimes there’s things that people do that make you feel like you don't belong in a certain room… you can definitely tell when people feel entitled because of their ego.”

Sadiq Desh speaks with Chidozie Obasi
for LE MILE .Digital

Moving on to representation, Desh believes that there can still be more profiles like him in the industry. “I still think there’s things that can be done, as there’s still moments where I don’t feel like I'm being respected or treated a certain way, especially in the influencer market where you’re dealing with people with egos and followers,” he shares. “Sometimes there’s things that people do that make you feel like you don't belong in a certain room, and whether it's consciously or unconsciously you can definitely tell when people feel entitled because of their ego. I just always want to make people feel welcome no matter what level of popularity they have.” His transition to being just a set fixture to appearing on socials happened out of the blue in 2017, because the first big fashion brand that invited him was Gucci and he attended their small activation, which led to expanding his career.

But there’s more to the story. “The positives of this job is that obviously you’re lucky enough to make a living out of it, which I think in the bigger scope of things is kind of crazy that you just have this social media profile on a platform and you’re able to profit from it,” he shares. “But I think the benefits for me have been that I was able to have an avenue to meet more people and get educated on things I probably wouldn't have been educated on in other areas. Obviously the downfall with that is if you’re ignorant over certain things and you’re putting stuff out there—and it's perhaps not the right connotation—you could get some backlash as there’s no learning curve or there’s no room for learning when you have such a platform, so you kind of have to take things as they come.”

cardigan MOSCHINO
shirt DIOR MEN
shorts FENDI
tie PAUL SMITH
necklaces LAG World

top FERRAGAMO
brown vest DOLCE&GABBANA
white shirt MANUEL RITZ
pants PAUL SMITH
loafers CHURCH’S

total look MIU MIU

“What keeps me grounded is the urge to resonate with what’s authentic to me… not just the monetary gain, but what feels authentically delightful to me.”

Sadiq Desh speaks with Chidozie Obasi
for LE MILE .Digital

total look LORO PIANA

total look VALENTINO

sweater + shirt + tie PAUL SMITH
pants ZEGNA
shoes SEBAGO

Desh has always taken a personal approach within his platforms. “I mostly gain traction because of my thoughts on things and obviously fashion but my personal say about topics or how I’m feeling is what keeps people,” he opines, reflecting on the notion of authenticity. “I think it's a double-edged sword, because one wants to be authentic, but then people have a short attention span on the internet so one minute you're viral and the next minute you’re forgotten,” he concludes. “What keeps me grounded is the urge to resonate with what’s authentic to me, and to be honest sometimes I've lost that because of the commercial process of social media; however, what I've been pushing forward since last year is not just the monetary gain, but what feels authentically delightful to me.”

blazer JIL SANDER by Lucie and Luke Meier
sweater CANALI
shirt ALESSANDRO GHERARDI
pants MEIMEIJ
loafer CHURCH’S

blazer ISABEL MARANT
shirt DIOR Men
pants JIL SANDER by Lucie and Luke Meier
shoes FERRAGAMO

photography ANTONIO CROTTI   
fashion director + stylist CHIDOZIE OBASI   
head of production JESSICA LOVATO   
fashion coordinator LUCA MICELI   
make up AMY KOUROUMA via WM MANAGEMENT using Nabla Cosmetics   
hair ALICE FANTINI using Davines   
talent SADIQ DESH   
set design IRENE COVERI
fashion assistants LORIS VOTTERO + CLOE RUBINATO + ANNA REGAZZONI + JORDAN MAX BAGLIONI + ALBERTO MICHISANTI + MARTINA MANENTI + MARTINA MUSMARRA + EDWARD PUSCA  

ALI GUTY *Action of Becoming

ALI GUTY
*Action of Becoming

written + interview MARK ASHKINS

Ali Guty arrives in a way that makes arrival feel like an outdated concept, because she’s already in the room before she steps into it, already occupying the gaze before the lens has the nerve to blink, already shaping the air before the stylists even begin to fuss with the hem of anything, because presence doesn’t begin or end, it spills, it stretches, it slips under doors and over walls and between the seams of whatever someone once tried to call fashion, or work, or image, or identity.

There is a pace to her, the kind that folds time in on itself, the kind that turns a set into a stage into a space into a world where cameras become guests and nothing—absolutely nothing—is static, because static things break and Ali doesn’t do broken, she does bending, reshaping, reworking, reappearing, again and again and again, in forms that flicker just long enough to be felt but never long enough to be held.

Fashion loves a narrative but she refuses punctuation, lets the story spill out of her limbs, her shoulders, her neck, the angle of her jaw in late afternoon shadow, and there is always shadow, and there is always light, and between the two she moves like she invented both, like someone who doesn’t need costume or cue because expression lives in the body, and hers writes paragraphs in silk, in denim, in latex and cotton, in things you forgot were supposed to be clothes because they start to feel more like skin or muscle or the inside of a thought that never needed words.

dress ONRUSH

There was Jean Paul Gaultier, of course there was, because some people spot truth without needing it explained, because identity comes to some as intuition and others through decades of misdirection, and Ali holds it with the kind of grip that just rests firm, like someone who’s never had to borrow power because hers came with a fuse already lit.

There are shoots, there are rooms, there are teams and tables and call sheets and sponsored water bottles, but also—there’s motion, breath, the way her hand interrupts the air and tells it to pay attention, and it does, and so does everyone else, because rhythm doesn’t require music and energy doesn’t request permission, and when presence hums, everything else becomes chorus. So she moves—forward, outward, upward, inward, all at once, without a map, without a pause, into the spaces that recognise her even before she’s named them, because naming is for those who need labels, and Ali has already lived the thing.

dress LARHHA

Mark Ashkins
What’s the frst fashion moment that made you stop and think—this is where I belong?

Ali Guty
Refecting on my journey in the fashion industry, there was a moment that made me think, “This is where I belong.” It was the realization of how beauty standards are manipulated, and how, depending on the prevailing trends, one’s body type can be in Vogue or sidelined. The resurgence of 2000s fashion has brought back the ultra-thin ideals of that era, sidelining curvier fgures that once gained acceptance. I don’t like to see how our bodies are treated as mere trends, leading to a draining experience where opportunities diminish for those who don’t ft the “regular” model mold.

The cyclical nature of fashion trends often leads to the resurgence of past styles. The return of Y2K aesthetics brings back not only the fashion but also the body ideals associated with that era. This can perpetuate a narrow standard of beauty, sidelining those who don’t conform to these ideals. It’s essential to challenge these patterns and advocate for a more inclusive approach that celebrates all body types. Our presence and voices are essential in challenging these standards, advocating for genuine representation, and ensuring that fashion celebrates diversity in all its forms.

You move between high fashion and commercial work efortlessly. Is there one space where you feel most challenged?

I honestly enjoy both high fashion and commercial work, and I think they both bring something valuable to my experience as a model. Commercial work is very structured, there’s a clear order to follow, and everything is carefully planned to appeal to a specifc audience. I appreciate that because it teaches me discipline, adaptability, and how to work within a well-defned framework. It’s a great learning experience.
That being said, I feel more at home in high fashion. It’s where I feel the most creative freedom, where I can move, express myself, and contribute my voice. There are fewer limitations, and it’s not necessarily about making something that “makes sense” for a broad audience—it can be abstract, experimental, or even purely artistic. That level of creative expression is something I truly love.

So while I enjoy both worlds, I’d say I feel the most comfortable and fulflled in high fashion and editorial work.

If you could only wear one designer for the rest of your life, who would it be and why?

Jean Paul Gaultier is the frst high fashion brand that truly believed in me. I love the team, their values, and the community they’ve built. It’s a brand that feels full of life, authenticity, and meaning. JPG vibes deeply with the way I express myself and how I experience love, friendship, strength, and the divinity within me. There’s an undeniable sense of empowerment in everything the brand represents, and that’s exactly why I love it. If I had to choose one brand to wear for the rest of my life, it would be Jean Paul Gaultier, without a doubt. It gives me that strength and confdence that makes me feel like the woman I am.

shoes COPERNI

“Our bodies are treated as mere trends, leading to a draining experience where opportunities diminish for those who don’t fit the ‘regular’ model mold.”

Ali Guty speaks with Mark Ashkins
for LE MILE Ephemeral Edition - SS 2025 Nr. 38

Fashion thrives on the ephemeral. Do you see that as liberating or unsettling?

Both. The feeting nature of things can feel unsettling because nothing is permanent, but at the same time, it’s incredibly liberating. It reminds us that nothing is ever too serious everything fades, shifts, and transforms. Life itself is ephemeral. We try to hold on to control, to certainty, but the truth is, everything around us is constantly evolving: fashion, culture, our personal lives… Instead of resisting change, I think there’s power in embracing it, in letting it inspire us rather than unsettle us. Fashion is a refection of this fuidity, an invitation to play, reinvent, and move with the rhythm of time.

What’s a trend you loved but knew wouldn’t last?

The clean girl look, with glossy skin, laminated eyebrows, and polished buns dominate but fashion always oscillates between the immaculate and the maximalist. Life as trends are cyclical as we already mentioned, so what’s next?

The industry is fast, demanding, sometimes unforgiving. What keeps you grounded in it?

I know it's easy for me because I'm the same person in my personal life and working as a model, I have fun working while creating timeless art and memories that last forever. It's the way I express myself and I don't take everything so seriously, but the most important thing for me is to connect with others while working and inspire others along the way. The industry can be demanding, but I choose to see it as a moving space where there's always something new to discover. It anchors me in the idea that at the end of the day, the most important thing is to enjoy the process. I have friends who work in the industry and friends who have nothing to do with the fashion world, and I find balance in the people around me as well because they keep me connected to both realities.

People assume modeling is just about being in front of the camera. What’s the part of the job that no one sees?

What many don't see is the connection you build with people on set. It's not just about being in front of the camera, but about contributing creatively. Every day it feels frst day at work and also I love that. Sometimes, you're given the freedom to add ideas and be part of the creative process because, as the main character, you also have a voice. You're more than just a body; you have personality, opinions, and things to say. That’s how I experience modeling because of who I am and the way I approach it.
But there’s also a lot that goes on behind the scenes. The time spent alone, the rejection, the uncertainty. You never really know what will happen until the last moment in your life plans, and the idea of long-term planning in this industry is almost impossible. It’s an unpredictable journey, where you have to embrace the unknown and trust that each step leads to something new, even if you can’t always see the bigger picture. A LOOOOOOT of faith in the process.

If you weren’t in fashion, where would your creativity take you?

TV host, actress, casting director, model agent…There are things I still think about today. But most of my thoughts are still around the fashion industry.

Social media can turn a face into a brand overnight. How do you define success beyond the numbers?

For me, expressing yourself in a way that both inspires and allows you to be inspired is everything. It’s the heart of why I love social media and connecting with others. Social media gave me a lot of opportunities to be seen frst that model agencies for example did, it was where all it began. The true reward comes from using your success to create something meaningful that positively impacts those around you. It's about using your power and your voice for good and making a diference.

Is there something next already planned, or are you letting the moment decide?

This year, I decided to surrender to the process and let life take me a little, without planning too much, leaving many doors open to new possibilities. A few months ago, I started an acting course, and I’m excited about it. Nobody knows what will happen tomorrow, but I always have new concerns and new things to learn that will help me grow both as a person and as a professional. There is a saying in Spain: “Caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar.” This refects the idea that life doesn’t come with a pre-determined path; it’s created through the actions we take, the choices we make, and the steps we choose to follow.

coat NEXT COUTURE
shoes COPERNI

shoes COPERNI

model ALICIA GUTIÉRREZ via JAG MODELS
photography + creative direction ARDEN
styling SERGI PADIAL
styling assistant PAULA SÁNCHEZ
retouch ISMAEL VILLAR
set design JORGE GARCÍA

set assistant BLANCA DE LA CIERVA
film developing + scanning CUARTO COLOR LAB
photo assistant NANO HERNÁNDEZ
second photo assistant MARINNA BORHAN
location RUGE STUDIO

ILONA *Always The Bride

ILONA
*Always The Bride

written + interview HANNAH ROSE PRENDERGAST

"In some way, I always knew," ILONA says of her call to fashion. Born in Paris and raised in LA, the odds were set. In 2022, she made it official, launching her label on home soil.

Each piece is handmade with love, guided by self-taught haute couture techniques and the meticulous instinct of a Virgo. After all, psychological armor is heavy; the wearer must feel unbridled, deranged, and somewhat aggressive.

In this spirit, ILONA’s second collection, Psychosis, recounts her time as a teenager in a psychiatric hospital. Rather than relying on the darker, more literal tones often tied to mental illness, she stains warm off-whites and soft pastels for a more poignant touch.

The mood exists somewhere between frayed cotton, silk linings, weathered lambskin, distressed tulle—and lots of sparkle. Ask Esther. Here, ILONA emerges from under her rock, roaming the streets of Carroll Avenue in her own creation—a pink and gold lamé bridal gown with Calais lace.

ILONA seen by Miriam Marlène

ILONA seen by Miriam Marlène

ILONA seen by Miriam Marlène

Hannah Rose Prendergast
AS OF LATE

Ilona
I’ve been in LA planning some exciting future projects and taking a small break since the release of my latest collection.

LA EXPORTS

I brought back Betty Crocker fudge brownies and a sunny attitude, both lacking in Paris.

SHUTTER MEMORY

I got my first film camera when I was 16. It was a manual Nikon FM2, and I wanted to figure out how to use it. I had a photography teacher in high school who was really influential and taught me the ins and outs of the darkroom. It helps me today because I still shoot film occasionally and sometimes incorporate it into my work.

PLAY BY EAR

Music inspires me during the design process and keeps me going during the sometimes tedious sewing stages. I also always listen to music during my cigarette breaks and come up with new ideas.

BERLIN BRAIN

I moved to Berlin when I was 20 and knew only one person there. On a gloomy winter day, I decided to study neuropsychology. It was an enriching experience for which I’m grateful. I love Berlin and cherish my time there.

ILONA seen by Miriam Marlène

“After all, psychological armor is heavy; the wearer must feel unbridled, deranged, and somewhat aggressive.”

Ilona speaks with Hannah Rose Prendergast
for LE MILE Issue 38 / Ephemeral Edition SS25

NOBLE CAUSE

In the past, I struggled with the idea of working in fashion, thinking it was a selfish or superficial profession that didn’t contribute much to the world. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that the creative process of making garments makes me happy. Some people resonate with the clothes, and I’m okay with it being my calling.

CASTELLUCCI’S PARSIFAL

It inspires me to this day. The colors, costumes, and set design are insane. Castellucci creates a world like no other.

DEADSTOCK VALUE

I’ll continue using deadstock fabrics, as there is way too much waste in the world. I can also source unique couture fabrics I don't believe are made anymore. I like the individuality they bring to the garments.

NEVER THE BRIDESMAID

Most of all, I love the couture looks that take weeks to make. I included some more ready-to-wear elements for my second collection, which I hadn’t done in the first. I wanted some garments to be wearable every day. But I’ll always include a bride because I love to do it and think it really ties a collection together.

THE GOOD NURSE

I included quite a few nurses who were definitely my saviors during that time, as well as my friends who stuck with me through that traumatic period. I usually name my garments after my friends and people I love.

LAMB OF GOD

I sent Brodie Kaman pictures of all my stuffed animals, and we decided the lamb made the most sense. There’s a stuffed bunny that I've had since I was born, which I also included in some of the imagery for the collection.

LIGHTEN UP

Now, people think goth has more colors..

HAPPY IS

Iced coffee, puppies, cake, books, palm trees, my family, and my friends

NEXT LEVEL

I’m in a transitional phase of my life, figuring out where I might relocate as I plot my next collection.

LIFE ADVICE

Be delusional.

ILONA seen by Miriam Marlène

ANXHELA *Plays and The Room Follows

ANXHELA Plays
*The Room Follows

written + interview ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Anxhela moves with steady momentum. Her sessions open when the day allows for it, tracks surface with the kind of weight that feels tied to place and time, and each one holds its shape without needing to explain how it formed.

She releases music in a way that suggests she’s already past the part where it needs to be explained — each piece arrives formed, quiet, intact, without scaffolding or commentary, and then lives where it lands. The tone across her output remains steady, and the surrounding space—both physical and digital—feels maintained with the same attention, creating a rhythm where every release holds its own position, shaped by a sense of timing that reflects the internal pace of her process, with no visible urgency or external structure, and everything aligned with a working method that keeps expression at the centre and lets the material speak without interference.

The same applies to how she dresses. There’s alignment without overthinking, detail without decoration. Each look feels connected to the environment she enters, whether that’s a small club, an outdoor stage, or a studio session in progress, and the alignment between sound, space, and image settles without commentary. Nothing leans toward performance and everything in view appears selected with quiet precision, creating an overall impression that builds naturally as part of the experience she’s creating, rather than functioning as a separate layer around it.

total look JUUN.J

Kosovo sits in recent memory — the kind of night that works in layers, with a familiar crowd positioned close to the stage, a set that held its shape across its full length, and a kind of energy that remained steady from beginning to end. Family watched. Energy held. Nothing overstated. Just the kind of connection that registers in the body and stays there for a while. Right now the work is happening in parts. Studio sessions, fragments, outlines, days where something clicks and the rest falls into place. The process stays active, shaped by the environment and the rhythm of her own attention, with new material appearing as part of that motion, guided by feeling and sustained by structure.

Playing live remains essential. The volume in the room, the faces, the architecture of the room and the way bodies move inside it. Each set builds on instinct, adjusted in real time, shaped by the way the crowd responds without language. She approaches the set as a whole structure, one that forms through presence and holds together through instinct, with every element placed deliberately and nothing overstated. The direction stays inward, the delivery stays exact, and the result maintains a kind of clarity that travels well beyond the night itself. That balance works. It’s already working.

total look DIESEL
jewellery ARCHIVED PROTOTYPES

jewellery ARCHIVED PROTOTYPES

Alban E. Smajli
Please, define your sound without limitations. What does it evoke, where does it live, and who does it belong to?

Anxhela
Yes,my sound is an emotional journey and it reflects what I feel, what I imagine, and what I want others to experience. I stay true to what moves me, but I also think of the listener because I’ve been on that side too, waiting to be transported by music.
Every track I play or create carries a piece of my mood, joy, sadness, energy, nostalgia. It’s a mix of instinct, emotion, and connection. My sound lives between my inner world and the dancefloor, and it belongs to anyone willing to feel something real.

Fashion and music—does one dictate the other for you, or do they move in tandem as part of the same vision?

For me, fashion and music move in harmony, they’re both expressions of the same inner world. Just like sound, what I wear reflects how I feel, what I want to say, and the atmosphere I want to create.
Sometimes a look can amplify the energy of a set, or help tell the same story the music is telling. I don’t see them as separate, they evolve together and complete each other as part of my artistic identity.

Albums seem like a relic, streaming is a battlefield. Where do you stand in this war for attention?

Streaming is important, it’s where people discover you, connect with your music, and follow your journey. But I don’t create just to grab attention. I create to express something real and to connect with the listener. Whether it’s one track or ten, the emotion behind it is what matters most to me. I released singles so far, because I like focusing on each track as its own story. Every release is a moment, a feeling, something I want to share without waiting for a full project.

At the same time, I really admire the idea of building something bigger, like an EP or album. I haven’t done that yet, but it’s definitely something I think about for the future. I don’t follow a fixed strategy or release constantly, I create when it feels right. But at the same time, I know how important it is to stay visible, especially today. So I try to find a balance: I want to stay true to my sound, but also be smart about how and when I share my work. I’m learning to combine both sides: the passion and the planning, without losing myself in the process.

total look JUUN.J Archive

“Every track I play or create carries a piece of my mood, joy, sadness, energy, nostalgia. It’s a mix of instinct, emotion, and connection.”

Anxhela speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE Digital SS25

Are clubs sacred spaces, or are we witnessing the birth of something new?

I think clubs will always have a special place. There’s a certain and real energy you can feel there,but at the same time everything is evolving. Music evolves, and we see new collectives, new concepts and new ways to connect. I think we’re already in the middle of this change.
I love playing in clubs, but I’m also excited to explore other spaces and see how electronic music keeps evolving.

Festivals—have they lost their cultural significance, or are they evolving into something new in the live music experience?

I don’t think festivals have lost their meaning,I think they’re just changing, like everything else in music.
Today, festivals bring people together in a big way. It’s not just about the music anymore, it’s about the full experience, the community, the energy, the visuals, the feeling of being part of something. I think they’re evolving into something new, and that’s not a bad thing. As long as the music stays at the center, festivals can still be powerful and emotional moments, just in a different way than before.

Your music is a world of its own—what stories echo through it, and what emotions form its foundation?

My music is built on emotions. Every time I create or play, it depends on how I feel.
Sometimes I’m happy, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes sad, I try to express that through sound. I don’t follow one story, but I want the listener to feel something to connect with the mood. For me, music is a way to speak without words. It’s like sharing a part of myself, and at the same time imagining what the people on the dancefloor might need in that moment. I don’t follow one fixed story, it’s more like a journey through feelings.

If you could construct the perfect performance from the ground up—what does it look like, sound like, feel like?

My perfect performance would be in a special place, maybe outdoors, in nature, or somewhere unexpected. I’d want the music to be emotional, and full of energy. A sound that makes people feel something and takes them on a journey.

The lights, the space, the people, everything would come together. But the most important thing is the connection. I’d want everyone to feel free and present, just enjoying the moment with the music.

Kosovo—Europe’s youngest pulse. How did this performance come to life, and what was it like to play in a place so charged with energy and change? What’s next for you? A whisper, a roar, a new world?

Playing in Kosovo was a really emotional experience for me. I’m Albanian, and having my family there, people I love made it even more special.The energy was powerful, I could feel the crowd connecting with every sound, and I felt so free to express myself. It wasn’t just a performance, it felt like home.

What’s next?

I think it’s a mix of all three: a whisper, a roar, and maybe even a new world. I’m in a phase where I’m discovering myself more through music, step by step. I don’t always know where it’s going, but that’s the beauty of it. I just follow the emotion, stay true to what I feel, and let the sound lead the way. Whatever comes next, I hope it surprises even me.

dress HADERLUMP ATELIER
shoes DR. MARTENS
jewellery ARCHIVED PROTOTYPES

talent ANXHELA
photographer PASCAL SCHONLAU
production + styling BASAK SAYGIN
makeup & hair GIOVANNI ZUMMO
production assistant ANETA TARASEVICIUTE

GUY REMMERS *The Duke Goes Off-Script

GUY REMMERS
*The Duke Goes Off-Script

written + interview Alban E. Smajli

There’s something about Guy Remmers. Maybe it’s the voice — precise but unbothered. Maybe it’s the posture — somewhere between centuries-old nobility and Gen Z’s nonchalance. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s straddling about five different lives at once and making it all look impossibly casual.

You’ve seen him as Theo, the Duke of Tintagel, in The Buccaneers — Apple TV’s velvet-clad, chaos-laced, post-bridgerton fever dream of a period drama. He plays it with just the right amount of restraint and emotional slippage, like someone holding a glass of brandy they’re about to smash. Now, with Season 2 freshly dropped last week, and the one and only Leighton Meester joining the cast, Theo’s world is about to get flipped on its finely groomed head. No spoilers, but let’s just say Remmers is riding the heartbreak horse hard this time around.

total look ANN DEMEULEMEESTER

But The Buccaneers is just one thread in the tapestry. Before screen, there was stage — and before that, Bristol. Guy trained at the Bristol Old Vic and made his debut at The National Theatre in The Grandfathers, a moment he still talks about like a first kiss. “Being a Bristol boy at that age in London… that was the moment I knew,” he says, and you believe him. His presence off-camera feels less rehearsed. You might’ve seen him walk for Burberry, pose for Jimmy Choo, or drift across a moody editorial like he woke up in a 1970s issue of The Face. But fashion, he insists, is its own thing — something he enjoys, but doesn’t conflate with his work as an actor. Still, there’s a symmetry: both spaces let him play with image, identity, and what he calls “the evolving shape of masculinity.” You get the sense he’s aware of how he’s looked at, but not defined by it.

Ask him what he wants next, and he lights up. A detective role (“Life on Mars” energy), a comedy-drama à la The Thick of It, something American-accented. What you’re reading is a man who wants to stretch — not because he’s bored, but because he knows how good the view is from the edge. In an industry obsessed with immediate heat and viral cool, Guy Remmers is moving differently. He’s not here to be loud. He’s here to last.

total look ANN DEMEULEMEESTER

Alban E. Smajli
So you’re the Duke of Tintagel—old money, stiff collars, and then boom: American chaos. What made you say yes to Theo, and how did you find your way into all that aristocratic angst?

Guy Remmers
Thank you! Theo's constant battle with the benefits and disadvantages of his title has always fascinated me. I did a lot of work on what his upbringing would have been like and how he physically carries himself and speaks. A lot of suppressing his emotions but the really exciting part was then allowing him to be swept off his feet by this new unique ball of energy from overseas. 

Season 2’s loading, Leighton Meester’s crashing the party, and Theo’s still stuck between duty and desire. Where’s he heading this time—and what happens when fresh blood hits old money?

New faces and characters are super exciting as it means you get to meet and work with incredible new actors. I loved seeing how they all seamlessly intertwined into the story. Theo's journey in this season is an absolute rollercoaster and his world flips upside down when he has to decide if love is more important than the institution he has been born into.  

You started on stage, Bristol Old Vic, National Theatre, all that velvet and sweat. Now you’re in streaming land. What do theatre and screen give you that the other can’t?

They are both magical in slightly different ways. I haven't done theatre in a few years now and the thing I miss most is the feeling of being part of an ensemble where you all rehearse together and feel like one organism. The Buccaneers is an ensemble cast but it is rare for us to all be on set at the same time. But I have now done two seasons of seeing the world through Theo's eyes and growing with him and that is equally as special.  

You’ve done Burberry, Jimmy Choo, the whole fashion orbit. What itch does that scratch that acting doesn’t or is it all just dress-up in different lighting?

I feel very lucky to have done those things, especially as I have a love for fashion. To me they are completely separate, neither offers me something that I would need from the other.  

You move between film sets and fashion shoots, all soft tailoring and sharp stares. Do you see yourself as part of a generation that's reshaping what masculinity looks like, or does all that talk just feel like another box to be put in?

I definitely feel like 'masculinity' is evolving into more open and expressive ways and I think one strong representation of that is in fashion. I hope it keeps moving in that direction. 

You’ve done corsets, campaigns, a bit of everything in between. Is there a role or genre still lurking on your wishlist, just waiting to be cracked open?

I've always wanted to play a detective, that would be super cool. I loved watching police dramas like 'Life on Mars' and 'Ashes to Ashes' when I was younger, I think that's where my love for them started. My favourite TV series is 'The Thick of It' so I'd love to do a comedy drama in that tone too.  Also a big goal is to do a role in an American accent.  

Was there a moment where it all just clicked and you thought, yep, this is it, this is the thing I’m meant to do?

When I was 18 I did a play called The Grandfathers at The National Theatre - it was an extremely special experience. Being a Bristol boy at that age in London doing a play at that theatre was the best feeling in the world and a moment that I knew I was doing what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. 

total look PAUL SMITH
shoes JIMMY CHOO

“I definitely feel like 'masculinity' is evolving into more open and expressive ways, and I think one strong representation of that is in fashion.”

Guy Remmers speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE Digital SS25

blazer + beret EMPORIO ARMANI
trousers ANN DEMEULEMEESTER
vest SUNSPEL

coat + trousers ISSEY MIYAKE
shirt DAVID KOMA
trainers ADIDAS X WALES BONNER

jacket + trousers Y-3
shirt BRUNELLO CUCINELLI
boots DAVID KOMA
gloves HANDSOME STOCKHOLM
tie TURNBULL & ASSER

“Theo's journey this season is an absolute rollercoaster. His world flips upside down when he has to decide if love is more important than the institution he was born into.”

Guy Remmers speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE Digital SS25

total look VERSACE

total look DANIEL W FLETCHER
trainers ADIDAS x WALES BONNER

photographer ANTONIO EUGENIO
stylist JUSTIN HAMILTON
grooming TRAVIS NUNES
photo assistant GEORGE TAYLOR
styling assistants KATIE SOMAVIA, LORNA LANE
videography VALENTINA VILLA
talent GUY REMMERS

Special thanks to Caroline Fergusson + Grace Yeoman, PR Pinnacle

WANDA LEPHOTO *Fabric As Archive

WANDA LEPHOTO
*Fabric As Archive

written + interview ALBAN E. SMAJLI

Wanda Lephoto builds narratives in fabric. His work is a continuum of history, community, and identity, shaped by memory and lived experience. Fashion carries weight, holds space, and restores what has been lost.

His Johannesburg-based label moves through cultural currents, weaving together ancestral knowledge and contemporary expression. Each piece exists with intention, shaped by deep research and a commitment to craft. Materials tell stories. Silhouettes hold memory.

Threads connect past, present, and future. Recognition follows, but the purpose remains. Lephoto’s approach prioritizes ethical production, local artisanship, and material integrity. He moves with purpose. Each stitch marks a place in time. Each piece speaks beyond the surface. Each collection expands the conversation.

trench coat NTWANA
shirt + pants WANDA LEPHOTO
shoes MAISON MARGIELA

photographer THANDO NXUMALO
stylist PEYTON JOE BASSON
talent and designer WANDA LEPHOTO
photo assistant BONOLO TLHOLOE
stylist assistant AYANDA KANISE

follow designer @wandalephot

“I design for a person I envision—someone who doesn’t yet exist in the ways I’ve seen.”

Wanda Lephoto speaks with Alban E. Smajli
for LE MILE Ephemeral Edition - SS 2025 Nr. 38

total looks WANDA LEPHOTO

Alban E. Smajli
What does fashion allow you to say that words can’t?

Wanda Lephoto
I think fashion allows me to express my love and gratitude toward a people, a culture, and a history in a deep and meaningful way—something words, especially English words, often fail to convey.

South Africa, 2025. What does the landscape of fashion look like to you—raw, evolving, defined, or still untamed?

Oftentimes, it feels as though things are improving, with increasing visibility for designers striving to push boundaries in a complex country like South Africa, where much unlearning still needs to happen. I would say South Africa’s landscape embodies all the words you mentioned—raw, evolving, defined, yet still untamed—due to our complex history, which requires careful navigation. Over the past decade, we’ve seen tremendousgrowth. The next ten years will be pivotal in shaping the future of fashion—not just for our country but for the entire continent.

Your work moves between tradition and now. Do you see yourself as a translator, a disruptor, or something else entirely?

To honor, in the best way I can, those who came before me, fought, and shaped the context in which I now exist is fundamental to what we do. I am because we are—a philosophy rooted in our continent's teachings, emphasizing the human spirit and the essential role of each person in shaping and developing new ideas. This belief is dear to my heart, making the honoring of tradition pivotal to our creative process. Neither translator nor disruptor. I see myself as someone who fosters plurality—bringing together communities, conversations, cultures, and traditions in diverse spaces to create propositions for newness. It’s about shaping a different way of seeing and being, but even more, a different way of believing.

What’s the hardest truth about building a fashion label in Africa that no one talks about?

It’s a lonely feeling. The hardest part, for me, is that when we win, we win together—but when we lose, I lose alone. That can feel isolating. The financial setbacks. The emotional, mental, and spiritual weight of carrying it all alone. The responsibility of dreams—not just your own, but those of so many who rely on you.

Who do you design for—the person who wears your clothes or the culture that shapes them?

I design for a person I envision—someone who doesn’t yet exist in the ways I’ve seen. I design for the culture and community that believes in me—whose stories are often neglected but deserve to be seen and celebrated.

I design for those who shape culture alongside me—who, like me, believe in the individuality of our journeys yet the shared responsibility of dreams. I design for those who are no longer with us, but whose memories and stories live on—as a way of ensuring they are never forgotten.

I design for future generations who will inherit, through spirit, the importance of our collective work in shaping history—understanding that for us, it’s more than just clothing.

total look WANDA LEPHOTO
shoes DR MARTENS

What fuels your process—memory, instinct, resistance?

My process at this point in my design journey is hugely fueled by memory and resistance. I believe in honoring where we come from, because there is a lot of healing that needs to happen in the works we create —works that begin to fill the void of the missing archives we have lost. In the future, I know this will evolve. But for now, this remains the cornerstone of our work—restoring pride and memory of where we come from. The sentiment being: from the dusty concrete, a flower can bloom.

If you stripped everything away—labels, industry, expectations—what remains at the core of what you do?

The stories.

Africa has always dictated global culture, whether the world acknowledges it or not. Where do you see its biggest creative shift happening right now?

Africa is the heartbeat of fashion. Right now, I’m fascinated by the cultural fusion happening with high-low fashion, real/fake fashion, and western/traditional styles. The mixing of colonial dress with traditional dress.

The blending of thrifted dupes from Europe with real high-end fashion—which, in many ways, is a metaphor for how western fashion has become destructive to itself. All of this exists alongside the growing pride in wearing African fashion brands—brands that celebrate craftsmanship and culture through design.

Ephemeral. Fleeting. Unstable. How does that word sit with you? Is fashion ever meant to last?

Fashion is meant to last forever—not just as clothing, but as a feeling, a memory of a time that meant everything to us.

If clothing could dissolve at the end of the day, leaving only its impact, what would yours leave behind?

I think my clothes would leave behind the stories of a people, a group, a community—and, hopefully, a continent. Though history sometimes makes us feel as though we should be ashamed, the stories we carry are far more beautiful than any hardship we have endured.

We have true culture and community. We have true design and philosophy—something beyond mere aesthetics or financial trends, something that defines who we are.

GAB BOIS *Endless Playground

GAB BOIS
*Endless Playground

written + interview TAGEN DONOVAN

Gab Bois possesses a rare and almost alchemical ability to take the mundane and twist it into something extraordinary, something that lingers in the mind long after you’ve looked away. Bois’s work doesn’t just sit quietly in the background—it demands attention, not through loudness, but through its quiet valour.

By taking the everyday, the objects we barely glance at, and reimagining them into striking, surreal creations that challenge not just our ideas of design and functionality, but our very perception of reality itself. A pair of boots crafted from old keyboards, earrings fashioned from I-phone cameras—these are not just whimsical ideas; they are provocations, invitations to see the world differently.

What makes Bois’ work so compelling is not just the cleverness of her visual puns or the precision of craftsmanship, though both are undeniable. It’s an innate ability to weave together humour, intrigue, and a deep sense of aesthetic playfulness. Each piece exists in a space where the familiar becomes strange, and the strange becomes oddly familiar. It’s a space that feels both futuristic and nostalgic, as if she’s tapping into a collective memory of childhood make-believe while simultaneously pushing us toward a new way of seeing. Each image doesn’t just ask, “What if?”—it insists, “Look again.”

Gab Bois
seen by Joseph Davies

(c) Gab Bois

Bois’ artistic journey is one deeply rooted in curiosity, a trait that pulses through each visual story she creates. Growing up in a creatively rich environment, Bois was exposed early to the power of visual storytelling. Her father, a painter, introduced her to the language of imagery, a language she now speaks fluently, though in her own distinct dialect. Through this creative trajectory, Bois has etched out her own niche of visual expression, a vast terrain where possibilities stretch into eternity, folding worlds within worlds. Within these spaces, Bois orchestrates a new vocabulary, whereby a cocktail dress made of Scrabble tiles isn’t just a playful costume—it’s a commentary on language, identity, and the ways we construct meaning.

Her visual style is a melting pot of influences—design, fashion, pop culture, and advertising—yet it feels entirely her own. Growing up in the age of selfies and self-representation, Bois has a keen understanding of how images function in our digital age. Extending an open conversation with the viewer, lending itself to an intimate exchange that bridges the gap between artist and audience. There’s a sense of shared understanding, as if to say, “You’ve seen this before, but have you really looked at it?” Through this connection, Bois invites us into her world, a world where the ordinary is anything but.

At the heart of Bois’ practice is a fascination with paradox. A practice that exists in the liminal space between reality and simulation. She plays with these tensions, creating pieces that feel both timeless and of-the-moment. In a world dominated by endless scrolling and fleeting attention spans, we are invited to pause and engage, even to reconsider the forms we encounter every day but rarely truly see.

“It feels like my playground is constantly getting bigger, giving me the opportunity and privilege to work with whatever materials my concepts call for.”

Gab Bois speaks with Tagen Donovan
for LE MILE Ephemeral Edition - SS 2025 Nr. 38

(c) Gab Bois

(c) Gab Bois

(c) Gab Bois

Tagen Donovan
Let’s start at the beginning. How did your early artistic influences shape your creative perspective, and in what ways has this visual language guided your approach to storytelling?

Gab Bois
My creative practice has always been deeply rooted in the sense of wonder I felt as a kid, my wonder of objects and curious perspective of the world. I’ve tried to construct a visual language that blends elements from my childhood play and my teenage Tumblr days, in which I continue to tell a story.

The idea of working with what you have in front of you is a recurring theme in your art. Do you see this as a direct extension of your childhood experiences, or has it evolved into something more conceptual as your practice developed?

I’d say it’s a product of both. My creative practice has always been shaped by my surroundings—a continuation of childhood days spent playing outside and collecting objects. Over time, though, my career has given me access to more resources. It feels like my playground is constantly getting bigger, giving me the opportunity and privilege to work with whatever materials my concepts call for. The spirit of my practice is still the same: playful and rooted in my environment. But the process has definitely evolved, especially when working with briefs and as part of a team.

Your work often features a blend of humor, discomfort and beauty found within the mundane. How do you select objects for your pieces? Is it a meditative process or something more instinctive?

It’s definitely an instinctive exercise—I’m drawn to objects that catch my eye aesthetically. Since my practice is grounded in time and place, I usually gravitate toward objects or themes that feel current, whether they’re seasonal or flooding my explore page.

Blending elements of conceptual art, sculpture, and fashion with a playful and thought-provoking edge creates the tapestry of your practice. If you were to describe the genre or identity of your art, how would you define it? Or is there an element of transcending labels and boundaries?

I don’t usually try to describe my work, but I love when people who know art history connect it to other movements or genres. I don’t really have the knowledge—or the urge—to place myself within the larger art landscape, though I’m not opposed to it. I’d say my work is conceptual, and my practice is more about a general vision than sticking to a specific medium. I see it more as a special sauce that I can adapt to any dish.

In the age of the infinite scroll, your work creates moments of reflection, inviting viewers to pause and view the ordinary through a different lens. All while tapping into our innate sense of curiosity amidst the rapid consumption of content. How intentional is this aspect of your work?

Thank you for framing my work this way—that is very kind. Creating work that calls for a moment of reflection or pause is definitely something I aim for. I think everyone has a personal gallery of images that stick with them—or at least I do. If my work becomes part of someone else’s mental gallery, that is awesome. But if people keep scrolling past it, that won’t stop me from making more. I’m well aware that most of us are overwhelmed by images daily, and I can’t control if my image will cut through this. What I can control—and what I think has been a strength of my practice—is building a distinctive visual universe.

Captions evolve into titles for each piece, while the comment section transforms into a dynamic space for recontextualisation and community dialogue. What is it like to witness, in real time, how your work sparks conversations and invites fresh interpretations from your audience on social media? Have you ever been surprised by how it's interpreted?

It’s funny you say that because I feel like this was especially true when I first started sharing my work online. People were very engaged and the comment section was very dynamic, so many people shared strong feelings, positive or critical. The Instagram landscape has changed a lot in the past few years, and I’ve noticed people interact much more with reels than with still images now. My comment section feels a lot calmer now. It’s mostly a mix of love, clever puns, or references of work that people are reminded of, which I enjoy learning about.

You’ve previously mentioned your father’s ability to“talk with images”,which resonates with your own approach to creating art. Do you see your work as a continuation of this legacy, or have you reinterpreted it in your own way?

Great question. I see it as both. Having a child is merging your essence with someone else’s, creating something entirely new, never just recreating yourself. In that sense, I owe a lot of my creative practice, passion for art, and craft to my dad. That said, our artistic processes and inspirations are quite different, though there is most likely overlap in the way we both approach art on an internal level.

The theme of this issue is EPHEMERAL—the fleeting, raw brilliance of the present. How does the concept of impermanence manifest in your work, especially in a world where images and ideas are so quickly consumed?

I like to think of my work as surreal time capsules, each piece captures my inspirations from a specific time and place. I also draw a distinction between the physical object and the photo or video of it, seeing the act of capturing the object as the time capsule itself.

I am very inspired by the Tibetan Buddhist practice of creating sand mandalas. I like to be as invested in the process as in the final tableau, but not so much in the outcome once the work leaves my hands. I don’t mind spending hours on something that might be shared and then forgotten. In my experience, something doesn’t have to be framed or looked at every day to be real or valuable.

In your "Canapés" collection, you transformed everyday food items into wearable art. What challenges did you face in translating your photographic concepts into physical fashion pieces?

When creating Canapés, my intention was to explore both the design and production processes of wearable accessories, while considering functionality alongside aesthetics. One of the biggest challenges I faced was the balance between form and function. In my creative practice, I’ve always prioritized form, but I quickly realized that to make these pieces wearable and functional, I’d have to make certain compromises. I learned that when something is comfortable and practical, it enhances its overall appeal and becomes more beloved. In the end, the compromise doesn’t end up being a compromise at all.

—follow @gab_bois

What’s perhaps most striking about Bois is her ability to move fluidly across disciplines—without losing the thread of her conceptual vision. Entirely self-taught, a fact that underscores the raw, instinctual nature of her creativity. Bois’s work feels alive, as if it’s constantly evolving, driven by an insatiable curiosity and a passion for bringing ideas to life. This evolution is evident in her recent projects, which expand her practice into new territories. While experimenting with interactive elements, designing wearable objects, and exploring new media to push her artistic vision beyond the confines of the screen.

Le Mile’s EPHEMERAL issue explores themes of impermanence and raw creativity, Bois’ work feels particularly resonant. It’s a celebration of the fleeting brilliance of the present, a reminder that even the most ordinary objects can become extraordinary if we’re willing to see them in a new light. In this exploration of her practice, we delve into the inspirations that fuel her creativity, the evolving relationship between physical and digital creation, and how she navigates the impermanence of contemporary visual culture. But perhaps more importantly, we consider what her work asks of us. It’s not just about appreciating her art; it’s about questioning our own perceptions, about finding the surreal in the everyday, and about embracing the playful, curious spirit that drives her practice. Gab Bois doesn’t just create art—she creates moments of wonder, and in doing so, she reminds us that the world is far stranger and more beautiful than we often allow ourselves to see.

(c) Gab Bois

(c) Gab Bois

In 2020, you released a book with Anteism, and you’re now preparing to launch a new project with Baron Books. Both editions embrace a sense of play, from simulated phone cameras in your first book, inviting readers to take selfies within the gaze of the book itself, to the interactive sticker cover art in your upcoming release, directed by Max Siedentopf, which encourages direct participation with the artworks. How do you approach the design of these interactive elements, and what role does the concept of play hold in shaping your broader artistic vision and practice?

Play is truly at the heart of my practice and my studio’s vision. There’s always an element of surprise, because we’re creating things that don’t yet exist, and we can never fully predict how a work will be experienced in the real world. It is so exciting to see our vision come to life, fully formed by each decision made and each source of inspiration gathered along the way.

I see our studio as a playground, where we have the freedom to experiment and explore. We are so lucky that we don’t have to get bogged down by many constraints in our personal projects. We might still get hurt on the playground by making bad decisions, but we always learn and hop back into the swing of things.

When creating, do you think more about how your work will exist in its immediate context or how it might be archived and remembered in the Future?

Again, both. I’m always aware of how my work will exist in the present moment, but I’m also curious and excited about how it might be perceived, archived, and repurposed in the future.The future informs how I capture and display my works in the present: photographing an object in its best light, preserving it as a high quality image and as a physical object when possible. A photo can withstand time, even if the physical object deteriorates.

What's next for you? What are you excited to explore in 2025?

On a personal level, I’m really excited to dive deeper into creating video works and exploring storytelling as a vehicle for my ideas. For my studio, my team and I love experimenting with different mediums and forms of work, and our goal is to keep raising the bar for what we can achieve and what terrains we can move into. This year, we aim to continue pushing towards constructing a tangible presence of our work and vision, and we have lots of exciting products and projects rolling out this year that reflect this ambition.

“We might still get hurt on the playground by making bad decisions, but we always learn and hop back into the swing of things.”

Gab Bois speaks with Tagen Donovan
for LE MILE Ephemeral Edition - SS 2025 Nr. 38