We’re used to fashion coming from Paris, London, Milan or New York but what about Latvia, Estonia and Croatia? Recently, a generation of increasingly powerful eastern European designers has emerged.

An outift by Roksanda Ilincic from Serbia

Consider Roksanda Ilincic, born in Serbia and now based in London, who revealed a capsule collection for Whistles in July. Ilincic, beloved of Vogue thanks to her demi-couture evening dresses and a clientele list that includes Cate Blanchett and singer-songwriter Róisín Murphy, has had her own-name collection since 2003.

Then there’s Estonian designer Reet Aus, who had a show at Estethica, a showcase for eco-sustainable designers at London Fashion Week in February. In April, Latvian duo Marite Mastina and Rolands Peterkops, otherwise known as Mareunrol’s, won both the L’Oréal Grand Prize and the 1,2,3 Prize at the Hyères new design festival in southern France, the first time in the event’s history that one entry won both awards.

Diane Pernet, a leading fashion commentator, says: “No one was ever thinking about Latvia and fashion in the same sentence, and it seems all of the jury was pleasantly surprised by their fresh approach to fashion.” Pernet cites Romanian designer Rozalb de Mura and Bogomir Doringer from Croatia as other eastern European designers she has been following closely.

An outfit by Mareunrol’s from Latvia

“I think the fact that the eastern European designers do not have any fashion culture gives them this fresher approach,” says Pernet. “The important element is that they work from their roots and consider the international market without trying to duplicate what is already out there. It cannot be easy working in countries far removed from the fashion radar and without much financial support.”

In fact, the emergence of fashion design talent from eastern Europe has been happening for some time. Unit F büro für mode is a Vienna-based organisation that supports designers with the potential to be an international success. Also known for its annual fashion and photography festival, Unit F started its Kontakt Fashion award for designers from central and eastern Europe in 2006. Ulrike Tschabitzer, Unit F’s director, says: “We’ve seen that designers are doing more and more networking. We’ve also seen that more eastern European designers get their education in Milan, Paris, Antwerp, London and Vienna, and that they participate in awards.”

Similarly, the Trieste-based International Talent Support (ITS) festival “has always had a high number of entries from eastern Europe”, says festival director Barbara Franchin. ITS started eight years ago as a fashion competition for young designers and has since built up significant links with important fashion colleges worldwide.

“Recently we have seen a dramatic change in quality of work from eastern European designers,” says Franchin. “They can match even the best western European schools.” Even before Mastina and Peterkops’s win at the Hyères Festival, they were 2007 ITS finalists. “We take a different approach on things and we perceive the world differently, due to our recent history of independence,” says Peterkops.

An outfit by Reet Aus of Estonia

Indeed, given that eastern countries, in pre-internet days, were far removed from western culture and entertainment, their designers inevitably looked towards their own cultures in search of inspiration, finding local, rather than global, ways of expressing themselves. The business model for fashion concerns in the east has also had an influence on how local product has developed.

Estonia-based designer Reet Aus says: “The relatively small number of major foreign fashion outlets in Tallinn means that the independent designers operating here are working in what is perhaps a less commercially-influenced environment. I feel like there is much more new ground to break here creatively and that I have much more scope to offer an alternative to the fast fashion business model.”

Eastern Europe’s rich but troubled history also resonates in its designers, as it does with its writers and filmmakers. Peterkops says: “A new generation has grown up with a great deal of hope, confidence and belief in something greater. This generation has begun to announce itself to the world, and it is very strongly opinionated. It is not just the interest in eastern European designers; it is also our interest in the international market.”

“You can feel that there’s something happening, a fresh, unconventional approach to fashion,” says Unit F’s Tschabitzer. “I just hope that the financial crisis won’t destroy this movement in the east.”

Peter Aspden, Rocking all over the world

www.ashadedviewonfashion.com
www.itsweb.org
www.mareunrols.com
www.reetaus.com
www.roksandailincic.com
www.unit-f.at

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Sneakers are hip from the old Bloc

Call it a geography test: if the cherished athletic shoes of your childhood include names such as Nike, Converse, Fila, Reebok and Adidas, you probably grew up west of the Iron Curtain. If Tisza and Zeha are your footwear madeleines, then chances are you hail from the old Eastern Bloc, writes Evan Rail.

For years western companies have been capitalising on nostalgia for vintage sneakers by making reproductions of Nike’s original Air Jordans and issuing upscale retro lines such as Adidas Originals. But it’s only recently that shoemakers from the other side of the former Berlin wall have begun to follow suit, releasing updated, high-quality versions of communist-era marques.

On the streets of Berlin’s trendy Prenzlauer Berg district, for example, hipsters who were scarcely toddlers at the time of reunification wear trainers from Zeha Berlin (right), an update of the Zeha shoes once worn by East German footballers. “The brand was highly successful in the former Eastern Bloc,” says Torsten Heine, one of the company’s owners, who, together with his business partner, Alexander Barré, grew up in East Germany and wore Zehas himself as a young athlete. “They developed shoes for nearly every sport,” he says.

Despite its proletariat past, Zeha Berlin’s line-up today is decidedly high-end: prices for their all-leather trainers start at around €130 for the most basic models, climbing to €200 for the padded leather Liga. Patterned on a pair of East German football boots discovered in the attic of the museum in the brand’s original hometown of Hohenleuben, Thüringen, the ankle-high boot is almost literally a museum piece. And though relatively unknown to western consumers, according to Heine, Zeha’s original logo was actually changed from four straight stripes to a sharp V as the result of a mid-1950s trademark infringement lawsuit from Adidas.

Meanwhile, in Hungary, the communist-era brand Tisza rivals Nike in popularity. And in the Czech Republic, the Classic 66 line of retro sneakers appeared this summer from Botas, the traditional sportswear manufacturer of communist Czechoslovakia. Based on the brand’s mid-1960s originals, the line was reconceived by Jan Kloss and Jakub Korous, students at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design in Prague.

“It’s really a vintage design,” says Kloss of the contemporary trainers, noting that his modern versions are slightly wider than the originals, and offer a much wider selection of colours. “The changes now are really small and mostly for comfort.” The results, Kloss says, have been beyond expectations, with the initial run of 10,000 pairs selling out after just three months.

This all come in the wake of Ostalgie, the nostalgia for the former East – or Ost, in German – that was a key component of the 2003 film Good Bye Lenin!. This fondness survives despite memories of low quality and inferior workmanship (Hungary’s Tiszas were said to have had extremely slippery soles made out of PVC, and Botas were once known for their use of cheap, synthetic leather).

“In all Eastern Bloc countries it was very difficult to get good materials,” says Heine. “But in the 1950s and early 1960s, I think that the quality was as good as the West German brands. Afterwards it went down. And now it’s back.”

www.botas66.cz
www.tiszacipo.hu
www.zehaberlin.de