Known for challenging the boundaries of fashion, Storrveldi weaves rebellion, ritual, and personal meaning into every collection. Here is our conversation:
Your collections and shows have this decadent, slightly unhinged energy, very Marie Antoinette moment before the guillotine, if you ask me. :) What is it about aristocracy that keeps you coming back to dissect it? I think I might guess the answer, but I still very much would like to hear your thoughts.
Thank you, this is very sweet, but I will say Marie Antoinette is not the muse; it is rather the peasants' revolt. And I reject the aristocracy.
The thesis of my 2025 collection was to make fun of the aristocracy and the whole culture of the ‘wannabe upper class’. It was a display of bread and circuses. I wanted to point the finger at the very audience that consumes 'fashion' only for clout, not as a tool of politics.
My previous collection also played on this theme; however, it focused more on the forgotten legacy of my ancestors. I studied anthropology at university, and I still study anthropology. I am in love with humanity, but I am not in love with the powers that bastardize our humanity. I hate class division, I hate the idea of the upper class, the rich, and the glamour; it will inherently corrupt us.
There is also something to be said about this new age aristocracy, the class of people who cosplay as elite and rich. They manufacture ‘taste,’ and it comes off so wrong. Ill-tailored clothing, gaudy accessories that do not communicate class but rather excess.
It is difficult to communicate this, but I am also trying to show the concept of ‘debt’. This false idea of infinite money: buy now, pay later. In my personal ethos, I would rather have a boring appearance and no debt than be thousands in the negative and adored in something ‘luxurious’.
All this to say, aristocracy as a recurring theme in my work is a reflection of my sentiments and disdain towards the upper-class lifestyle being fronted as desirability.
Storrveldi translates to "Empire," and that's a bold choice for a name. What does that word mean to you, and why did it feel right for the label?
The realm of haute couture is dominated by beautiful French atelier houses. Makes sense, Paris is literally the home of haute couture, but I wanted to turn my direction towards the north to find inspiration for a company name. It is unusual to hear the Icelandic language outside of Iceland. And for me, I find this language sparks so much inspiration.
I find when I speak it ( although I am limited in my Icelandic vocabulary) I can feel the history within the language. As a French and English speaker daily, I am not charmed by the sounds of French name brands or English, so naturally, I was going to turn towards another language I adore. My nana would have likely preferred I choose German, but alas, I did not.
As for why I specifically chose the Empire, that is a bit of a silly reason. I am a lover of fantasy, elves, fairies, knights, and magical kingdoms. All of that, although it is folklore, feels real to me. Magic is not a fantasy to me; it just feels real. I see magic everywhere.
So, I went with Empire because I knew I wanted to create a company that is beyond design. It would be production, it would incorporate not just my own visions but the visions of my collaborators. It would be a reflection of my rich inner world curation. This is my ‘empire’.
You’ve recycled your entire archive to create “Les Incroyables et les Merveilleuses”, which is a collection about revolutionary excess and overconsumption. That’s brilliant, tell me about it.
Yes, I did recycle, and I am quite proud of it.
You see, I understand my designs are not for everyday use. I know that not every garment will likely be sold. Rather than let the unsold garments be thrown away or rot in my archive (my closet), I wanted to breathe second life into them.
In my personal life, I am a minimalist. I don’t like excess, and I am not attached to material items. This bleeds into my design work in unconventional ways. I reject the notion of ‘new’. I would rather make myself a garment from an old bed sheet, a previously unloved garment, or whatever, before I buy new.
For this collection, I went all out with my recycling. I took it a step further and used paper from my packing when I moved house. I used a few other unconventional materials because I knew I wanted my models to rip everything up and destroy the garments on stage. That itself was an act of protest.
I don’t like the false idolatry worship of garments; it is a bit bizarre to me. So I rebuked this by creating clothing from ‘trash’ and letting it be destroyed.
Fashion used to be dangerous, and I guess now it's just pretty. You're one of the few designers still making work that feels like it has teeth. Do you think the industry has gone soft, or are the rest of us just not paying attention?
I am not sure if the industry has gone soft or if we are just disillusioned with legacy brands not being worthy of legacy anymore.
Where I may stand out the most when it pertains to brand is in aesthetics. My artist identity is deeply tied to my academic studies. I am not copying something that already exists, nor am I just giving a reference for the sake of it; I have curated a unique dialect for what I make.
The difference between being a curator and being a consumer is becoming more polarizing. I believe many people think they have tastes right now, but if Pinterest and Instagram disappeared tomorrow, they would be stuck without a reference for inspiration. This isn’t meant to be harsh; it is simply an observation. Taste has been sold to us, a new cycle of trends every season. We don’t know why we are wearing things anymore.
A lot of people tell me they haven’t seen work like mine. And I must correct them that they have, they just cannot see it. My inspirations are so clear in my work; the only thing is that I am not copying, I am curating.
In returning to my critique of the internet as a source of inspiration, I think social media has created this parasocial relationship between content creators and inspiration. Many people are giving their opinions, critiquing, and assuming without having a proper idea of how to analyze and consume fashion, as it borders more on art than simply clothing. I could say a lot about this point, but I will leave it here.
My work still has its teeth because what I do in my private time (spend time alone, read physical media, spend time in nature, listen without talking) is reflected in the work I create; it is satisfying to me. Which is why I am okay if I remain obscure or if I don’t. Either way, I will still remain myself.
The shoot in nature for “Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors” was stunning and almost pagan. What were you trying to summon out there?
The elves... It is hard to describe the feeling of being on that land, but there is something ancient in those rocks. I have a friend in Iceland who is deeply spiritual. She told me that there are elves that live within the land, and there are spirits of the land. She taught me how to feel their presence. I wanted to communicate that presence in the photos, and I think the photographer, Yael, captured that so well.
I hear your new collection is about your hometown. What does that place mean to you, and what made you want to capture it now?
It is about tying up loose ends. I want to essentially pay homage to the original cradle of my early life. I want to pay homage to my final editorial here before I leave.
“The Revelator" was your New York Fashion Week debut, and it was inspired by your grandmother's history with ballet. How did it feel to step onto that stage with such a personal legacy behind the work?
It felt very private and vulnerable. I hope I made her proud.
You chose to use dancers instead of traditional fashion models. What can a trained dancer’s body express that a model’s can’t?
This is a very easy question to answer. I find that models have mastered stillness, whereas dancers have mastered movement. My showcases and runways require movement as an important part of the production. The dancers can communicate nonverbally, the rest of the story.
I've heard whispers you're working on something unlike anything you've done before, a ballet production, if I'm not mistaken. What can you tell us about it?
I can tell you a bit about it.
I have a deep love and appreciation for the classical ballet world. That was my foundation as an artist, and this has shaped my outlook on the world. I am learning that what I liked in my childhood is the key to what my purpose is.
I want to connect my love of ballet to my love of design and video games. When I was about 12, I had an idea that my favourite video game (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword) would actually make a really good ballet. Understand that ballet was how I viewed the world around me since it was the center of my world.
I want to explore this possibility, but with a different game series. A much-loved Montreal-made game series.
It will take me a while not only to build my credibility but also to convince the game development company that this is a good idea. But I know I can do it.
Can you take me behind the scenes of a Storrveldi production? With people in Toronto, Paris, Reykjavik, and all your dancers and collaborators, what does a typical day look like for you now?
For my sanity, I stay very organized, and I have no shame in asking for help.
There are a few levels to a Storrveldi production: a photoshoot, a runway, a showcase, and a gathering. They typically start the same with a first instant of communication. I try my best to organize my thoughts and visions for the initiation of the project before I share them. This helps with communication and delegation of tasks.
With whoever is helping me, I will normally meet with them and give them a list of what is imperative to do. I tend to have at least 3 helpers per task. For runways, I normally have three or four. This is because my runways are the most chaotic. If you have been to any fashion week, you know what I mean. Communication is critical; everyone on my team must be informed of the schedule and the happenings of the day to ensure all runs smoothly.
Once I have a clear schedule and delegated tasks, I will inform my talent. This is either models or dancers, or actors. I like a mix of all three because they really offer a beautiful blend of expressions. I tend to separate my talent into small groups and assign a leader from my management team. The leader will ensure everyone is dressed, fed, and done up before showtime.
Rehearsals are led by me as I need to ensure the vision is properly executed, but I rely on my management team to catch small details I may miss. For example, as I use recycled materials, it is common that a thread can be loose, a button falling off, or anything else like that. On my management team, I only have close and trusted people who have worked with me before, and typically, they are bilingual. This is because I often work with international talent, and when stress is high, communicating in your first language is often more comfortable. I want my people to feel cared for and comfortable.
As for myself, I don’t normally get overwhelmed because every show or production I have done, I learn from past mistakes and improve for the next time. But I do have some special needs, and I do require accommodations. Again, when I work with people I know and trust, I have no issue asserting when I need a quiet space or when I need help. I have a no shame policy in my workplace; we all sometimes need a little help.
For showcases and runways, the social aftermath is often where I need to draw boundaries. I know the audience loves our shows, and I am an open person; I love to talk to folks and hold space for them. But right after a show, when I have often spent 12 hours in work mode, I am not in the mood to socialize. I think my core audience knows this, but again, I rely on my management and support team to redirect people who might not understand that I am not trying to be rude; I just need to be alone to take in the day. I love my support/management team <3.
After the day is done, sometimes the group (talent, support team, and sometimes friends from the audience) will get dinner or spend some time together. My best memory is when I did a super small local show and my kendo team (Japanese sword fighting hobby from my time in University) showed up! Since my core team was so small, we all went out together for some snacks, and I was so happy and full of support.
My gatherings are typically little picnics or parties I host as a thank you to people who help me out. This career path can require you to be very selfish, so I try to give back my time and attention to people in my life. I love to host picnics and just sit and talk with my people.
You've got private showcases lined up this year, and London might happen with Fashion Week. What are you building toward? What do you want to leave behind?
I am building a legacy as a narrative-based designer. I want to go beyond clothing to tell my stories. My art direction needs to be stronger. I have so much to say and tell, and I feel I don’t have the right words yet. My showcases are to be the first glimpses at my legacy projects. I have been planning and preparing an intricate project that I believe will be my legacy. I am ready to be free, I am ready to grow up and become the artist and woman I want to be.
"I am building a legacy as a narrative-based designer. I want to go beyond clothing to tell my stories. My art direction needs to be stronger. I have so much to say and tell, and I feel I don’t have the right words yet. My showcases are to be the first glimpses at my legacy projects. I have been planning and preparing an intricate project that I believe will be my legacy. I am ready to be free, I am ready to grow up and become the artist and woman I want to be."
