A Former Patternmaker For Yohji Yamamoto And Calvin Klein Launches A Line Of Her Own

We tend to split designers and brands into two categories: those who make “runway collections”—the mind-bending, trendsetting stuff that challenges and inspires us—and those who make wearable, quietly luxurious clothes that prize fit, fabric, and craftsmanship. Ashlynn Park is the rare talent who can do both, offering garments that are otherworldly yet accessible, and studied down to the last stitch.

Much of it can be chalked up to Park’s training as a patternmaker, not a creative director. Usually the “behind-the-scenes” types we see starting labels or getting artistic-director roles at luxury houses have résumés filled with design positions; Park found her strength in the more technical side of things. After completing her Master of Arts in fashion design at Japan’s Bunka Fashion College, she started her career with Yohji Yamamoto, first as a student intern and later as a patternmaker.

“When I started my internship, I thought I was a designer,” she said with a laugh, recalling the house’s reputation for meticulous craftsmanship. “But they asked me to sew. When I was hired, I had to sew for two years, then I got the chance to do the patterns, then I got the chance to work on my own designs.” In 2011, she moved to New York to work for Alexander Wang (where she made special-event pieces for Beyoncé and Rihanna) and Raf Simons at Calvin Klein; through the years, Park developed a creative vision of her own, culminating in her solo project, Ashlyn.

She debuted her fall 2021 collection to buyers and press in a quiet Chelsea gallery, with a few of her more sculptural pieces displayed like artwork. Bustles, cutouts, and back interest are early signatures for Park. An ivory gown had soft padding around the hips and a curvy vent at the spine, while a bustled skirt came in air-dried organic cotton, giving it a surprisingly casual energy. A short-sleeve “backwards” jacket dipped below the shoulder blades, and a puffed-sleeve cotton blouse was entirely open in the back, save for a small string tied in a bow. A few more classic-looking jackets and shirts appeared to be layered together but were actually hybrid pieces, like a button-down with a wool bustier on top. While the two-in-one thing can look clunky or obvious in other designers’ hands, the result here was quite effortless.

It goes back to that technical prowess and artistry, but Park is a confident and intuitive designer too. Her collection was a joy to explore but was rigorously edited, with no extraneous details or filler. As a one-woman team, she makes every decision and executes every single step in creating the clothes, from the sketch to the pattern to the sample (plus fabric research, buying appointments, website maintenance, and the myriad other tasks involved in starting a brand).

Park’s autonomy has allowed her to make sustainability a focus as well, from sourcing organic and deadstock fabrics to maintaining a pre-order-only model. Some of her most inventive designs were driven by an effort to reduce waste: She picked up a shirtdress that can be worn several ways, with sleeves you can wear “normally” or draped over your shoulders and ruching along the back to tweak the silhouette. It was cut from a single sheet of silk-cotton poplin and is the hero piece of Park’s “zero-waste” project, a capsule of garments made without discarding any fabric. “Organic cotton and deadstock fabrics aren’t really going to fix the industry,” she said. “The system needs to change. We produce too many things, and most of it gets thrown out. So I’m constantly thinking about how to reduce waste.”

In that way, Park’s line feels like a model for new designers (and some existing ones too). Yes, you can make beautiful, creative clothes that people will actually wear, and you can do it in a conscious way without making sustainability your only message. Eventually, we shouldn’t have to mention a designer’s fabrics or waste-reduction methods at all, because they’ll be standard practice. That will take time, but Park proves that it can be done—and beautifully so.