When Philosophy Meets Design at Central Saint Martins

^{Image: Lorenzo Bartocci}

Delving into Sechan Park's process designing for the 2023 Reset Project.

First-year fashion design students only get one chance to produce a look for Central Saint Martin’s emblematic White Show. Garments are dissected by the scrutinising eye of tutors and industry leaders, and verdicts are harsh: it’s either a hit or miss. This year’s event specifically sets a milestone in the university’s fashion BA’s legacy, as what was known as the White Show for more than two decades becomes the Reset Project. In resonance with the industry’s ongoing discussion about sustainability, students from all fashion design pathways were challenged to design and sew, in the strict time constraint of a month, a garment made out of limited quantities of white Circulose sustainable suede or cotton. Additionally, they had to ensure that their final creations were constructed in a way allowing them to be taken apart after the presentation for the fabrics to be recycled, and reused by next year’s newbies.

For many, the Reset Project represents a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to assert their identities as creatives and showcase their work to influential figures of the industry, marking the beginning of their careers as designers.

However, for Sechan Park, the project never seemed to hold much more relevance and importance than the university itself. “I think CSM is boring,” he told me upon our first meeting. There’s some kind of provocative paradox between his nonchalant attitude towards the university and the implicit acknowledgment that, as an overseas student from South Korea, he is paying the onerous tuition fee of £25,970 (or more) a year to attend it. Many would kill to have the opportunity to design in the second-floor studios of Central Saint Martins. But apparently not Sechan. Nonetheless, I thought, indifference doesn’t equal a lack of talent, and everybody deserves the benefit of the doubt.

Finding the balance between highly conceptual and innovative ideas while also ensuring their realistic achievability can be daunting, especially in an environment pushing students to develop their creative individuality as much as Central Saint Martins. Sacrifices made for the sake of practicality are heart-wrenching, yet ultimately define the quality of the final garment. Looking at Sechan’s creation, one ponders whether a change of approach during the conceptualisation process of the project could have better showcased a vaster array of technical skills.

^{Sechan's draping trials, a week before the final crit}

Rooting his concept in the new materialist theory whilst drawing aesthetic elements from Greek mythology and the myth of Pygmalion, Park strived to channel the doctrine calling for the separation of the life of an artwork, and this of the artist. “I focused on the life of the work rather than the artist, and explored the life of clothing, which I use as my art medium,” he describes. While his vision does transpire through the final design resting on the form, one can’t help but wish there was more to see, especially regarding the technical conception of the garment worn by the plaster dummy. If technicality could’ve been achieved through the draping of the toga, its irregularity, and unfinished edges feel simple when thinking about what a Central Saint Martins is expected to produce. As Sechan explained he chose to hand sew his design entirely, perhaps opting for another, less time-consuming technique would’ve allowed him to allocate more of his energy to experiment and build upon the fabric he was given.

^{Image: Understructure connecting the model to the dummy}

^{Image: Final garment on the form, 3 days before the official hand-in}

Yet, the day of the Reset Project proved to display the young designer’s concept, as well as himself, in a totally different light. On December 8, 2023, students from all courses congregated around the balustrades of every staircase and bridge overlooking the runway set up in The Street of the Granary Square building by the Fashion Image and Promotion class.

To the beats of American rap music, the models went down the catwalk adorned in a multitude of pioneering garments to rapturous applause. When the time finally came for Park’s garment to be in the spotlight, the audience went silent. Contemplating the design that was nothing like any other, phones were whipped back out of their pockets to capture the stiff walk of the sculpture that came to life before their eyes. Technical rigour was perhaps not at the forefront of the designer’s project, but surprise and entertainment sure were. Only then and there, as it was animated by the model, did his creative vision take on the meaning he’d unsuccessfully been trying to communicate.

Ironically, in order to do so, his garment had remained dependent on the human touch.

After the show, I stumbled upon a very apologetic Sechan on The Street. After weeks of chasing around the studios and a string of unanswered Instagram DMs, Park finally opened up about his lack of communication. “I was really anxious throughout the entire project”, he confessed. “I had so many sleepless nights… I never even touched my phone anymore,” he continued. The change in his attitude was astonishing. From the reserved designer I first met, constantly biting his fingernails and speaking to an almost inaudible volume, Sechan transformed into a smiling stranger. Beaming with excitement, he told me he was flying home to Korea the following day “Merry Christmas! I’ll see you around after the break”, he said as we parted ways.

Startled by our interaction, I walked to the student bar, anxious to tell my friends the tale of the designer who actually cared a lot more than we’d all believed.

_{Official Reset Project lookbook image in thumbnail courtesy of Lorenzo Bartocci}