Interview by Caroline IssaPortrait courtesy Kinyan Lam 

CI I discovered your collection through Jillian Xin [fashion director of Labelhood boutique] at Fashion Asia Hong Kong last November, and fell in love with your clothes. You had a small but beautiful rack of pieces and a fabric dye book, and I started following you on Instagram. I love your charming stories about your collaborators  and your approach to “fashion”. I think what you do represents the future of fashion.

KL Thank you. I hope so!

CI From what I understand, you have a few different practices. You teach, you create natural dyes for yourself and other brands, and you make your own clothes with the help of women living in villages in China who embroider or dye your pieces. How did you start?

KL I’ve been doing natural dyes and handcrafting since I was studying at Hong Kong Design Institute [HKDI] nearly ten years ago. I developed a strong passion for natural dye and materials, perhaps influenced by my growing up in a small town in southern China surrounded by nature. During my studies, I went to France to study natural dye under Michel Garcia, an expert in the field [founder of Le Jardin Conservatoire des Plantes Tinctoriales as a horticultural resource for chemists, natural dye researchers and botanists]. Later, I explored plants and dye materials in China by visiting traditional Chinese pharmacies and experimenting with different herbs I got in the shops. Later, I did my master’s at London College of Fashion, where I used [the handmade, uniquely glossy] Guizhou Dong fabric for my graduation project. After graduation, HKDI invited me to teach. Teaching had always been a dream of mine, and I enjoy sharing and engaging with others. I taught full-time for two years before realising I still had a strong desire to create. My boss offered me a part-time role, which allowed me to start a dye studio. It was never meant to be a brand, but a space for public workshops and materials exploration.  At a networking event, I met Tasha Liu, co-founder of Labelhood. They liked my pieces, visited the studio, and invited me to their showroom around the end of 2022. From there, I began developing a label. We’re now on our third collection, and the feedback has been great. People really appreciate the craftsmanship. I still teach and have interns and former students working with me. It’s the first time I’ve been a boss, so we’re learning together, figuring things out step by step.

CI You’re merging theory and practice into real-world products. It’s impressive.

KL Hopefully they learn from it – and so can I.

CI Your label isn’t just a brand, but feels more like a movement. It’s a studio, a workshop and a public invitation to learn. Your storytelling on social media is so engaging. But I feel like you are still getting input into your practice. Are you still learning from traditional experts, or are you teaching them more modern techniques?

KL It’s a two-way interaction. Sometimes I improve their methods, and sometimes they inspire me. For example, they know indigo plants very well, so I follow their methods, but for other colours, I use more efficient techniques which I learned from Michel Garcia. We learn from each other.

CI How do you find these experts and traditional craftspeople?

KL Through research, friends and fabric markets. For my graduation project, I found a unique fabric in a corner at a supplier in Guangzhou. It was up on the top shelf in a corner, but it spoke to me – I asked about how it was made and was fascinated by the process. I visited Guizhou twice during that time, explored villages, and discovered many communities and women working on these crafts and fabrics.

CI You’re speaking to me from an amazing [wooden-built] craft centre now, where you’re dying your new collection with persimmon.

KL Yes, or Kaki dye, which is known as “sun dye” in Japanese, as it requires sunlight during the dyeing process. We’re using multiple dyes – indigo, Kaki, and others – from local plants. Dyeing with persimmon will take at least two weeks. The persimmon dye needs sun exposure to develop the colour. I’m starting the process today [he shows his blue-stained hands and gestures to a lawn with more than a dozen garments laid out flat in the sun], but I’ll leave tomorrow. The women here will continue the process for me over the next few weeks. This craft centre is new but uses traditional methods, including being built from wood. It includes workshops and engages the community. It’s becoming more popular – more people are visiting, and more designers are getting involved.

CI I hope Chinese craft and “Made in China” becomes the next "Made in Italy” – where much more value is attached to the label.

KL I hope so too. The challenge is that the current generation of craftswomen in these villages might be the last, as young people are moving to the cities. If we can provide income through craft, they may stay. That’s my goal – to preserve these traditions, support local communities and show that you can make a living through carrying on these ancient techniques. I found a Japanese book that documents steps in embroidery, and I use it to reintroduce lost methods to the embroiderers. I also demonstrate stitching myself. In Hong Kong, we’re opening a new, permanent studio this summer. It will include a dyeing studio, showroom and office. I want it to be interactive. Customers can join workshops and learn about the craft while we showcase our products.

CI Your thoughtfulness and intentionality with how you build your practice and your collections is made clear in your clothes.

KL Thank you. Right now, we’re focusing on the dye studio and as for the future, I’m still exploring the market. I’m not strong in business or finance, so I hope to find a partner who can look after the business side of this. Eventually, I’d love to have a physical store – I prefer that to anything online. .