From The Craft Issue
Abraham Ortuño Perez (Abra), Rachel Scott (Diotima), and Christopher Esber. Each, in their own way, embodies a new generation of designers for whom the artisanal gesture is integral to the way they envision fashion. A conversation with three creatives at the dawn of their journey — for whom craft is not a reference, but a foundation.
A conversation with Australian designer Christopher Esber about Sydney, attunement, and letting ideas take their time.
When you speak with Christopher Esber, the first thing that registers is the space around his words. The Sydneybased designer’s cadence moves in quiet lockstep with the pace of his environment — unhurried, with pause, much like the language of his namesake label. Even now, as he shows on the official Paris Fashion Week calendar, Esber remains grounded locally. His craft moves through a kind of considered tension: between distance and presence, fluidity and form, gesture and technique.
Your work often seems to blur the space between body and nature. Where does that come from?
C. E. I find being based in Sydney quite inspiring. The pared-back, relaxed aesthetic — especially near the beaches — is always something I come back to. But I’ve also never really had to travel to feel inspired. I’m very much in my thoughts, or in the little things I’ve collected that inspire what I’m working on. I think you can create your own world within your own mind.
Where did your training begin?
C. E. I studied at the Fashion Design Studio in Sydney. After I graduated, I apprenticed with a tailor for about a year. It was mainly menswear tailoring, very bespoke and made to measure. It was a traditional approach to fit and tailoring, and really focused on function. I think it was essential to have that training early on. Even now, I can look at something and I know how to fix it.
You started your label soon after. Was that always the plan?
C. E. After my first year of study, I was really inspired to start my own thing. I was just making custom pieces for Vogue Australia shoots — quite bespoke and unique in that way. And over time, it just started to build. I’m definitely a big believer in the slow burn. I really wanted all the pieces I created to be thoughtful and to represent something. The first few years were really just for me — a time to experiment, explore, and test a lot of things.
What role does timing play in the way you develop ideas?
C. E. Even though I was rushing to start my own thing, I was happy with the pace being super slow. This slowness shapes both silhouette and strategy. I feel like I know when something feels right, or when an idea’s not ready. It’s important not to rush. Sometimes you need to hold onto things for a while, and that’s okay. That’s part of the craft, too — knowing when to wait.
There’s a clear physicality to your idea of craft — stones, resin, acetate. Are materials a starting point for you?
C. E. Yes. We’re constantly foraging — for bits and trinkets, or things that connect back to nature. It could be a stone pressed close to the body, designed to absorb warmth over time. Or an orchid encased in resin.
You often work with makers and ateliers around the world. What does collaboration look like for you?
C. E. We work with quite a few makers. I love working with people who aren’t necessarily in the business, because they bring their own perspective. You’re trying to push them, but without losing what they do. That’s the song and dance — getting them to move a little, while still protecting the tradition.
Do you see that as part of your definition of craft?
C. E. Definitely. A lot of these factories are small or family-run, and they’re often going above and beyond. Supporting them from the beginning is really important. You build these relationships, and they become part of the process.
How does being based in Australia shape the aesthetic of the brand?
C. E. When I think of Sydney, I think of beach culture. There’s a relaxed code to how people dress — things are a bit more undone, more dressed down. I’m always trying to bring that spirit into the collections. But it’s more about decoding that feeling and translating it. Coming from Sydney and showing in Paris, it’s a kind of merge — balancing structure with ease, polish with something more lived-in.
