There was an evening a few months ago, in the midst of the civil rights movement that swept through America and then across the world, when A-Cold-Wall posted an Instagram both calling for submissions for series of grants the brand was allocating to independent Black business. “Defend and support by any means necessary,” the brand wrote. “Black liberation, families, business and resources.” It was one of the first public statements of action from the fashion industry, and spoke powerfully to how A-Cold-Wall has established its identity: not simply as a Black-owned British brand, but a business agile and confident enough to quickly respond to the world it reflects. “We’re not too big, but not too small,” smiles founder Samuel Ross a few months later. “That allows us a unity which big companies don’t have, and a proficiency which small companies don’t have.”
It is that responsiveness echoed within his latest offering of the brand, showcased through a three-chapter short film in lieu of a runway. “It’s impossible to not talk about politics in terms of what we’re creating right now, because we’re about adapting to our common needs,” the designer explains. For spring/summer 2021 that materially manifests in a softened approach to the brand’s tailoring – less nylon, and more stretch fabrics that are “luxurious and wearable and comforting on the body” – alongside a more significant emphasis on (very good) knitwear. “It feels elegant but can still carry a visual language,” Ross says. “I foresee it replacing 50 per cent of what we do in jersey in the next few years.” Alongside the utilitarian aesthetic Ross is renowned for there is, essentially, an array of what he describes as “luxury loungewear,” designed for an era in which that category appears of paramount relevance.
Equally, the messaging that underlines his precisely-formed yet eased elegance speaks specifically to the cultural moment we are inhabiting: not only in terms of the ever-shifting directives about where and how we might be working (today, commuter style adapted for the sofa appears the reality of the foreseeable future), but the identity politics that underline 2020. It’s a sentiment Ross endeavours to explore through his film with Pierre Debusschere – which follows a loose arc of solitude and self discovery/redefinition and returning to work/modern maturity in a narrative which somewhat reflects his own experience of the year.
Through lockdown, Ross has restructured his business model – leveraging the profits from his three sell-out collaborations alongside the brand’s e-commerce success “to fuel the level of development and hires we required to open up new categories.” He has brought on new fabric technicians and accessories consultants while doubling down on his brand’s visual codes and core values. Now he finds himself in phase three, whereby he is determined both to dress a generation while addressing the issues that plague Britain.
“My long term, mid term and immediate goal is to support Black infrastructures and economics – not just talk to fashion, but sectors from agriculture to fintech,” he says. “I want to make sure that the Black British community gets the support it needs. We need to start developing and articulating our own specific stories. Of course there are shared experiences with my brothers in America, Australia, Belgium, across the world. But it’s naïve to have an umbrella of “Black” that fits every single person of the diaspora under it. Yes, we can support what’s happening in America, but my identity is Black British and I can’t live my brothers' experience. We need to tackle our issues and live ours.”
Ross has long imbued his clothing with his reflections on his world – but as consumers navigate their responses to uniquely tumultuous times, and where they’ll be investing their money ahead of a looming recession, that messaging appears more important than ever. “Right now, collections appear to be coming from more of a socialist spirit,” he smiles. “This is where the power of actually having personal value system, of being a good human being, is really coming to the forefront of fashion. It’s critical right now. We’re in a free market, and people can put their money where they want. People in positions of creative power have been elected. If they want to hold their spot, they need to do the right things.”
“My long term, mid term and immediate goal is to support Black infrastructures and economics – not just talk to fashion, but sectors from agriculture to fintech,” he says. “I want to make sure that the Black British community gets the support it needs. We need to start developing and articulating our own specific stories. Of course there are shared experiences with my brothers in America, Australia, Belgium, across the world. But it’s naïve to have an umbrella of “Black” that fits every single person of the diaspora under it. Yes, we can support what’s happening in America, but my identity is Black British and I can’t live my brothers' experience. We need to tackle our issues and live ours.”
Ross has long imbued his clothing with his reflections on his world – but as consumers navigate their responses to uniquely tumultuous times, and where they’ll be investing their money ahead of a looming recession, that messaging appears more important than ever. “Right now, collections appear to be coming from more of a socialist spirit,” he smiles. “This is where the power of actually having personal value system, of being a good human being, is really coming to the forefront of fashion. It’s critical right now. We’re in a free market, and people can put their money where they want. People in positions of creative power have been elected. If they want to hold their spot, they need to do the right things.”
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