The Woman of Her Dreams Wears Asia Furia
Image courtesy of Asia Furia
Speaking to Asia Furia about creativity is like watching someone tear through a cage they never asked to be put in. She is very thought-provoking and unafraid of going against the grain, and for a designer to decide to isolate herself and reject statements from the noisy voices in the fashion system saying “it’s all become oversaturated for new talents” or “you can’t build a brand on your own without gaining experience with bigger brands first” — it speaks volumes. When I met Asia for the first time, she was not labeling herself as a full-time creative devoted to her brand yet. As a young designer, she started doing jobs between social media management and working in the atelier of Onitsuka Tiger in Milan before she decided to leave it to dedicate herself fully to her brand.
“Sometimes change is like an earthquake, you know? It destroys cities, but then things settle again—it was like that for me. I turned my life upside down, but it eventually realigned to match my own vibration”, that’s one of the first things she told me when we had our videocall for this interview.
She looked tanned and bleary-eyed but blissful, it seemed as if getting away from the Milanese fashion scene had given her some fresh air of perspective, which is usually what happens to people when they turn their lives away from the biggest fashion capitals—especially when they go to live to the seaside of Italy, it’s impossible to feel stressed in an environment like that.
When I asked Asia about where her mind was creatively, it took her two seconds to say, “I feel as if the lack of creativity in the world has given me the strength to experiment with new creativity. I have stopped looking for references and looking at the past—it might sound silly, but I stopped looking at Vogue Runway, looking at the work of (Lee) McQueen, even though he is my greatest inspiration” Yet, the work she’s doing by making and fitting garments out of papier-mâché onto models offers a unique perspective, creatively rejecting the mold of having to be commercially appealing, just like McQueen wanted to live by. “When I make those papier-mâché dresses on a model, that stuff doesn’t have a purpose related to sales; its only purpose is pure liberation, and this can’t exist in this system. Creatively, I feel positively inclined to build another perspective that is closer to a performance: fashion seen as a before and after, something cathartic, something that can truly change.” This rejection of practicality hasn’t gone unnoticed, and she has already been invited to take part in the Respira Festival, an arts festival focused on emphasizing a sense of community and inclusivity where different artists are showcased.
Image courtesy of Asia Furia
People like Asia Furia don’t directly feel part of the system, but are rather indirectly bringing new ways of experiencing fashion and reconnecting it back to its artistic roots.
You told me once you got inspired by Japanese fashion designers for some of your previous work, and most of them reject the idea that fashion is art. Do you agree with this?
The fashion industry is not art. The interpretation of fashion is. And the way I live fashion in my case, maybe I’d define that as a disease for me. The way I see it, the way I live it, fashion could be art because of the filter I use to express what I feel inside, and so because the fashion industry doesn’t feel like art, I don’t feel part of it.
So you don’t feel part of the fashion industry because you are oriented towards fashion as performance. Is there an aesthetic that has been following you for any specific reason?
There’s an aesthetic that has been following me for some reason.
Do you know that specific reason?
(She laughs) I think I’m motivated by different reasons. When I used to make the dresses for the dancers of the Cocoricò Club at Riccione, I was then particularly inspired to narrate the night. Because for me, the night was a subculture that isn’t valued enough. I wanted the people who lived the night to see my clothes—under those lights, with those scents, that smell of nightclub smoke—and to remember that moment, those garments that accompanied their feelings. Now it’s not like that anymore, because I’m no longer part of those environments. Would you believe me if I told you that now I don’t even know what kind of aesthetic I’m tapping into?
Is it maybe because you have stopped looking at your aesthetic as a reference of other designers?
Yes, I have removed all apps, including Pinterest! I’m following what feels right to me, even if it’s not considered ‘cool’. I’m making clothes most nights on my mannequin that I end up throwing away, only because I want to relieve my need to do things. Even if something doesn’t look objectively ‘cool’, I might do it anyway, which is something I didn’t use to do before. I’d look at an Ann Demeulemeester dress, or any designer where I would recognize myself, and try to rework it as I would want it. Now I only recognize myself in my work. It’s a little bit of the woman I’d want in my dreams: the woman of my dreams wears Asia Furia.
Image courtesy of Asia Furia
What is so fascinating about Asia Furia is the way she’s framing her work into a new system that is established by herself. After experiencing being part of the industry firsthand, she came out in a state of retrospection where it was impossible for her not to be curious to try changing the rules of the game. Aside from the performative acts of making dresses out of papier-mâché on models’ bodies (confirming she’s not only a designer who loves the atelier, but also the stage and being in front of people), Asia has her namesake brand and a website where the browse consists of a homepage showcasing two dresses: one in black, one in white. She told me that she managed to sell two dresses to two completely unknown people just under a month after setting her website online.
Her brand, though, doesn’t stop there, as she is also planning to launch one single garment at a time. Each garment will be ready for purchase by only one customer who manages to get it. “The inspiration for this idea came from the fact that I just can’t imagine a stunning, well-thought-out garment being owned by more than one person. I’m tired of the assembly line—because the assembly line, in my opinion, even if it's just ten pieces, strips away the uniqueness of that act. If ten years from now I will not have sold a single thing, I will not care less. I didn’t start my brand to sell. I haven’t even done a single advertisement. I’ll keep going like this: I’ll make one piece, when I feel like it, and whoever grabs it, grabs it.”
One of the next garments Asia Furia will release consists of a Kimono inspired by an artist named Mara, who passed away recently and was the grandmother of a close friend. This artist used to make the kimonos for Issey Miyake, and was the only thing she could remember as she developed Alzheimer’s later in her life. “I want to make this kimono, I’ll name it Kimara, and whoever takes it, takes it. This is my new approach. I want to produce only single garments, and I want to create a community of people who buy my pieces based on their identity. Because the truth is, I’m not creating garments that identify me. Right now, I want every identity to find its place inside my brand.” This is new, and it plays with the notion of letting fashion be experienced rather than just worn. She continued: “It’s not niche, nothing to take away from niche brands like Rick Owens, who is my mantra, but he has created himself a cult of people that have become so identifiable that they have almost become too predictable.” She pauses. “I want my brand to offer single pieces for single identities, and I don’t care if they don’t sell.”
There’s no need to romanticize Asia Furia. What she’s doing isn’t some dreamy resistance—it’s rigorous, isolated, and emotionally high-stakes. But in a world that rarely lets creatives breathe before demanding proof of success, she offers a rare refusal. Not of fashion itself, but of what it’s become.