Rick Owens Looks Back at a World in Suspension and Imagines What Fashion Might Become When It Awakens

Read time 4 minutes

Images courtesy of OWENSCORP.

Rick Owens looks back at the transformative period of lockdown, reflecting on the lessons of grace, humility, and the profound importance of living with purpose.

The world stopped. Rick Owens looked closer.

On the roof, the beehives continued their quiet work. Beyond the terrace, newly hatched ducklings appeared in the neighboring garden. Beneath the trees, Owens returned to the books, drawings and objects that ordinary time had pushed aside.

He read Edmund White, studied Joseph Beuys and Pierre Legrain, and listened to the final acts of Richard Strauss’ Elektra and Salome. Their stories of urgency, glory and extinction sounded different against the stillness.

“When you think of all the contention and disharmony and things that could go ecologically wrong in the world, it’s a miracle we’ve been spared a crisis like this for so long,” Owens reflects.

For him, lockdown revealed life as a cycle of death, rebirth and effort made in the face of fragility. Humility became the lesson. Responsibility became its silver lining.

Time no longer moved in its familiar way. Owens imagined the Bouguereau paintings sitting alone inside the Louvre—nymphs beneath the trees, brushing their hair and composing poetry in their minds. For a moment, his own surroundings began to resemble the scene: the world outside held at a distance, beauty becoming something to notice again.

What, then, can fashion offer when the world feels fragile?

“The pleasure of grace and beauty is one of life’s greatest rewards, and some people can provide that better than others,” Owens says. Having been allowed to become what he calls an aesthetic voice, he feels a responsibility to bring that beauty forward.

He resists calling fashion art, yet understands that fashion must now reach beyond appearance. In an increasingly saturated world, the work that remains must press the same emotional and intellectual buttons as art. It must ask something of us.

For Owens, fashion has never been only an escape. It is aspirational—a rehearsal for the person one hopes to become. “The way you present yourself can telegraph your character,” he explains. “Fashion can subtly communicate a set of value systems before you open your mouth.”

Before the wearer speaks, the clothing has already entered the room. It can suggest modesty, order, respect or defiance. It reveals a decision about how one intends to meet the world.

Lockdown left Owens with humility, responsibility and gratitude. It also returned him to a quieter understanding of beauty: not as distraction, but as something worth defending.

In a fragile world, grace is not an escape. It is a way forward.

MONTROSE

When the world went indoors, what happened inside your own days?

RICK

We were fortunate to have the comfort of space and a small piece of the outdoors. We spent our days beneath the trees, reading, absorbing and learning about things we had previously left for later.

I read Edmund White, pored over Joseph Beuys’ drawings and studied Pierre Legrain’s work for Jacques Doucet, as well as Doucet’s patronage of Rousseau, Picasso, Eileen Gray and Georges Hoentschel.

I researched anthroposophical furniture. We gardened, played with the cats and followed the progress of the beehives on our roof and the newly hatched ducklings in the gardens beyond our terrace.

I listened carefully to the final acts of Richard Strauss’ Elektra and Salome. Under the circumstances, they took on a special significance—stories of misguided urgency culminating in a transcendent peak of glory before extinction.

MONTROSE

What do you think we carry away from an experience like this?

RICK

When you consider all the contention and disharmony in the world—and everything that could go wrong ecologically—it feels miraculous that we were spared a crisis like this for so long.

Life is made of cycles, death and rebirth. Doing our best in the face of that fragility is the meaning and glory of life: doing our best while we can.

We will emerge from this with a lesson in humility and responsibility. That is the silver lining.

“In a time of uncertainty, we are reminded of the importance of living with purpose, humility, and grace. Fashion, at its best, is not just about escapism, but a powerful form of self-expression that communicates our values before we even speak.”

RICK

When you consider all the contention and disharmony in the world—and everything that could go wrong ecologically—it feels miraculous that we were spared a crisis like this for so long.

Life moves in cycles of death and rebirth. Doing our best in the face of that fragility is the meaning and glory of life—doing our best while we can. We will come away from this with a lesson in humility and responsibility. That is the silver lining.

MONTROSE

How did the period of lockdown change the way you saw the world?

RICK

My memory will be that, in the face of a threat, we were given a moment to feel profound gratitude.

It made me think of those Bouguereau paintings sitting alone in the Louvre—nymphs brushing their hair beneath trees in a glade while composing poetry in their minds.

I felt we were recreating our own version of that: time suspended in the appreciation of beauty.

MONTROSE

What is the importance of fashion in circumstances like these—or in any circumstances?

RICK

The pleasure of grace and beauty is one of life’s greatest rewards, and some people can provide that better than others. I have been allowed to become an aesthetic voice, so I feel a responsibility to bring that to the table.

I always hesitate to call fashion art. But as the fashion world becomes more saturated and competitive, standing out requires reaching another level—one that touches many of the same emotional and intellectual points as art.

There is a quote attributed to Winston Churchill. When asked to cut arts funding in favor of the war effort, he supposedly replied, “Then what are we fighting for?” Except he never said it—the quote was later revealed to be a fabrication. But isn’t it compelling and completely convincing? Doesn’t it sound exactly right?

Hun—Michèle Lamy—has used that phrase as her leitmotif for years: “What are we fighting for?” I always joke with her, “Why do we have to fight at all?” But I understand her point. We must decide what our priorities are and take a stand.

MONTROSE

Fashion can offer escape, aspiration and fantasy. What does that mean when reality feels this harsh—or must fashion remain grounded in the real?

RICK

Fashion can be about escapism, but I have always been more interested in its aspirational side—the desire to present the person you hope to become.

The way you choose to present yourself can telegraph your character. It can signal modesty, respect for others and a sense of order. Fashion can quietly communicate an entire system of values before you open your mouth.

That is the direction of fashion I have always been interested in, and I suspect there will always be a place for it.

Lockdown left Rick Owens suspended between fragility and gratitude. Beneath the trees, among rooftop beehives and newly hatched ducklings, the outside world briefly receded. What remained were the quiet rituals of observation—the small signs of life continuing while everything else stood still.

Fashion occupies a similar space in Owens’s world. It is neither a distraction from reality nor merely an escape from it. It is a way of moving toward the person one hopes to become. Before a word is spoken, clothing can communicate character, restraint, respect and an entire system of values.

For Owens, uncertainty is part of a larger cycle of death and rebirth. We cannot escape life’s fragility, but we can decide how we meet it. With intention. With humility. With grace.

Time resumes, the world changes, and beauty remains—not as decoration, but as something worth protecting.

Text by
Kylar Ashton

Photography by
Rick Owen

Posted
February 5, 2022

Text by
Kylar Ashton

Photography by
Rick Owen

August 9, 2018

During lockdown, Rick Owens found the world slowing around him. Beneath the trees, he returned to books, drawings and objects once left for later. On the roof, beehives continued their quiet work. Beyond the terrace, newly hatched ducklings appeared in the neighboring garden.

In that suspended time, Owens considered fragility, gratitude and the responsibility of creating beauty while the world remained uncertain.

MONTROSE

When the world went indoors, what happened inside your own days?

RICK

We were fortunate to have the comfort of space and a small piece of the outdoors. We spent our days beneath the trees, reading, absorbing and learning about things we had previously put aside for later.

I researched anthroposophical furniture. We gardened, played with the cats and followed the progress of the beehives on our roof and the newly hatched ducklings in the gardens beyond our terrace.

MONTROSE

What do you think we carry away from an experience like this?

RICK

When you consider all the contention and disharmony in the world—and everything that could go wrong ecologically—it feels miraculous that we were spared a crisis like this for so long.

Life is made of cycles, death and rebirth. Doing our best in the face of that fragility is the meaning and glory of life: doing our best while we can.

We will emerge from this with a lesson in humility and responsibility. That is the silver lining.

MONTROSE

How did that suspended time alter the way you saw the world?

RICK

My memory will be that, in the face of a threat, we were given a moment to feel profound gratitude.

It made me think of those Bouguereau paintings sitting alone in the Louvre—nymphs brushing their hair beneath trees in a glade while composing poetry in their minds.

I felt we were creating our own version of that: time suspended, absorbed in the appreciation of beauty.

MONTROSE

What can fashion offer when the world feels fragile?

RICK

I always hesitate to call fashion art. But as fashion becomes increasingly saturated and competitive, standing apart requires another level—one that presses many of the same buttons as art.

There is a quote often attributed to Winston Churchill. When asked to cut arts funding in favor of the war effort, he supposedly replied, “Then what are we fighting for?” The attribution was later exposed as a fabrication, but isn’t it compelling? Doesn’t it sound exactly right?

Hun—Michèle Lamy—has used that phrase as her leitmotif for years: “What are we fighting for?” I always joke with her, “Why do we have to fight at all?”

But I understand her point. We must decide what our priorities are and take a position.

MONTROSE

Is fashion an escape—or a rehearsal for who we hope to become?

RICK

Fashion can offer escapism, but I have always been more interested in its aspirational side: presenting the person you hope eventually to become.

The way you choose to present yourself can communicate character. It can signal modesty, respect for others or a sense of order. Fashion can quietly reveal an entire system of values before you open your mouth.

That is the direction of fashion that has always interested me, and I suspect there will always be a place for it.

By & Large Film Philosophy Photography Rick Owens Unique Perspectives

Discourse

Sabu Suzuki and Mika Kailes Blur the Line Between Body and Image

Read time 4 minutes

Text by
Kaden Mason

Photography by
Mika Kailes

Posted
March 30, 2024

Photography by Mika Kailes.

Make-up is more than a beauty ritual; it’s a reclamation of identity, a rebellion against the predetermined, and a medium for expression.

In a world that is often preoccupied with conventional beauty standards, make-up has become more than just a tool for enhancing appearance—it has evolved into a form of rebellion, a medium for storytelling, and a catalyst for self-discovery. For 21-year-old make-up artist Sabu Suzuki, the transformative power of make-up transcends its surface-level appeal. Swedish-born and London-based, Suzuki’s artistry is bold, intentional, and disruptive, challenging societal norms and redefining what it means to be beautiful in an era of conformity.

Suzuki’s recent collaboration with photographer Mika Kailes is a testament to his unique approach to the craft. Together, they have created a series of striking images that capture the fluidity of identity and the interplay between light and texture. Each look tells a story that resonates on both a personal and universal level. For Sabu, make-up is not just about painting faces—it’s about bringing inner truths to life and celebrating individuality in its most unapologetic form.

But Sabu’s journey hasn’t been without challenges. From navigating a competitive industry to overcoming personal struggles, he has faced moments of doubt and uncertainty. Yet, through it all, he has remained steadfast in his belief that make-up is a powerful medium of expression. “Make-up,” he says, “is not about hiding who you are—it’s about revealing who you want to be.”

As we sit down for this conversation, Sabu reflects on his beginnings, inspirations, and the philosophies that drive his work. With a laugh as vibrant as his creations, he welcomes us into his world—a space where art meets identity, and where every brushstroke is an act of self-empowerment.

Photography by Mika Kailes.

Kaden: Can you recall the first time you did someone’s make-up? What was the experience like?

Sabu Suzuki: Oh, absolutely! It’s seared into my memory—partly because it was such a disaster but also because it was a pivotal moment for me. I remember using this drugstore foundation that was completely the wrong shade and piling it on like I was frosting a cake. The end result wasn’t pretty, but there was something magical about the process. It was the first time I felt the thrill of transforming someone’s appearance, even if I didn’t quite know what I was doing. I think those early attempts are crucial—they teach you to embrace imperfection and to keep experimenting until you find your voice. Looking back, I realize that the heart of what I do now was already there in those clumsy moments: the desire to tell a story and create something meaningful.

Kaden: Why do you believe make-up is important in today’s world? It feels like people have very polarized opinions about it.

Sabu Suzuki: That’s such a loaded question, but I love it because it gets to the heart of why I do what I do. Make-up is important because it’s one of the few art forms that’s accessible to almost everyone. You don’t need a gallery or a platform to make an impact—you just need a face and some imagination. At the same time, it’s also a deeply personal thing. For some, it’s a way to express joy or creativity; for others, it’s a shield or a source of confidence. What’s fascinating to me is how polarizing it can be. Some people see it as empowering, while others see it as superficial. I think both perspectives miss the point. Make-up isn’t about vanity or conformity—it’s about choice. It’s about taking control of how you present yourself to the world, and in that sense, it’s incredibly powerful.

Photography by Mika Kailes.

Kaden: When did you know that make-up was going to be more than just a hobby for you?

Sabu Suzuki: That realization hit me like a ton of bricks during one of the hardest periods of my life. I was going through a lot emotionally and felt completely disconnected from myself. One day, almost on a whim, I started playing with make-up. It wasn’t for a job or a look—I was just painting my face to see if I could create something that felt alive. That process became my therapy. It helped me reconnect with parts of myself that I thought were lost. Over time, I started to see make-up not just as a coping mechanism but as a calling. It became clear to me that this was what I was meant to do—not just for myself but for others, too.

Kaden: How do you view make-up as an art form? A lot of people still see it as something trivial or surface-level.

Sabu Suzuki: I completely disagree with that mindset. Make-up is one of the most dynamic art forms because it’s alive. Think about it: you’re working on a canvas that breathes, emotes, and changes with every passing moment. That’s what makes it so exciting—and also so challenging. You’re not just creating something to look at; you’re creating something that interacts with the world. For me, make-up is about transformation, not just in a physical sense but on an emotional and spiritual level, too. It’s about taking what’s inside and bringing it to the surface in a way that feels authentic and powerful.

“Make-up isn’t just an accessory—it’s a declaration of freedom. It’s the power to rewrite your story and embrace the beauty of becoming.” — Sabu Suzuki

Photography by Mika Kailes.

Kaden: Your work feels deeply personal. How do you navigate creating something that resonates with your own story but also connects with others?

Sabu Suzuki: That’s a balance I’m always trying to strike. My work is undeniably rooted in my personal experiences—my struggles, my identity, and even my joys. But what I’ve learned is that the more specific you get, the more universal it becomes. People see their own stories in your honesty. When I create a look, I’m not just thinking about what it means to me; I’m thinking about how someone else might interpret it. It’s like planting a seed and letting others grow their own meaning from it. That’s the beauty of art—it becomes a shared experience.

Kaden: Have you ever felt pressure to conform to certain beauty trends or standards, especially in the industry?

Sabu Suzuki: Oh, absolutely. The beauty industry is full of unspoken rules and trends that you’re “supposed” to follow. But honestly, I’ve never been interested in playing by those rules. Early in my career, I felt that pressure to create looks that were “trendy” or “marketable,” but it didn’t feel authentic to me. I realized I’d rather be known for doing something unique—even if it’s polarizing—than for creating work that looks like everyone else’s. The way I see it, trends come and go, but authenticity lasts forever.

Photography by Mika Kailes.

Kaden: What inspires you when you’re working on a new look or concept? Do you draw from specific sources?

Sabu Suzuki: Inspiration is everywhere if you’re open to it. I get ideas from the most random things—like the way light hits a cracked mirror or the texture of peeling paint on a wall. Music plays a huge role, too. Sometimes a single song can inspire an entire look. And of course, people inspire me—how they move, how they express themselves, how they carry their stories in their faces. I think the most exciting part of being an artist is that you never run out of things to be inspired by. The world is a giant mood board if you pay attention.

Kaden: What advice would you give to someone who’s just starting out as a make-up artist but feels overwhelmed by the competition?

Sabu Suzuki: First of all, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed—that’s normal. But don’t let it paralyze you. The best advice I can give is to focus on finding your own voice. It’s tempting to look at what others are doing and try to emulate that, but the only way to stand out is to be true to yourself. Experiment, make mistakes, and don’t be afraid to create something that feels “wrong” by industry standards. Some of the most groundbreaking work comes from people who dared to do things differently. And remember, your journey is yours alone—don’t compare your chapter one to someone else’s chapter ten.

Photography by Mika Kailes.

As our conversation winds down, it’s clear that Sabu Suzuki is not just a make-up artist—he’s a visionary. His work challenges conventional ideas about beauty, art, and identity, inviting us to see make-up as a tool for empowerment and self-expression. Through his bold creations, he encourages us to embrace imperfection and celebrate individuality.

Sabu’s journey is a reminder that art can emerge from the most unexpected places. Whether it’s inspired by a moment of personal struggle or the mundane patterns of everyday life, his work proves that beauty is everywhere if you’re willing to look for it. His collaboration with Mika Kailes is a shining example of how make-up can transcend its traditional boundaries, becoming a medium for storytelling and connection.

But perhaps the most profound takeaway from Sabu’s story is his unwavering belief in the power of choice. “Make-up,” he says, “is not about conforming to someone else’s standards. It’s about creating your own rules and living by them. It’s about taking control of your narrative and saying, ‘This is who I am.’”