Han Chong is not the kind of designer to present a mood board papered with esoteric references, and nor does he theme his collections around lofty narratives that make profound statements about the state of the world. That’s not to say he couldn’t—it’s easy to insert depth where there is none—but he is too pragmatic to waste time stroking his chin when there are people out there who just want to look and feel good when they leave the house. Ideas can be their own form of luxury, of course, but his Self-Portrait customers are shopping for well-made and well-priced clothes, not the concepts behind them. This is a refreshing—and perhaps even radical—approach: Fashion is in the midst of a global luxury slowdown where the material qualities of a garment are the inarguable markers of worth.
When previewing his fall collection, Chong immediately drew attention to a suite of georgette columns weighed down in clusters of hand-embroidered crystals that will retail for no more than $600 in-store. Beside them hung a miniskirt-set in bronze-toned chainmail hand-scalloped with the same house lace used for long-line negligées. Each of the knitted pieces—ranging from pastel cardigans with crocheted floral brooches, peplum sweaters, and taffeta-skirted dresses with embellished costume-jewel buttons—were also produced in Self-Portrait’s state-of-the-art manufacturing facilities in East Asia. “Because our price points are so accessible, people assume there is a lack of craftsmanship involved,” the designer said. “The truth is: we built the infrastructure to develop everything ourselves.” Which is to say nothing of the stigma that collects around the clothes being made in China, a nation with centuries of savoir-faire and the modern tech to rival even the most prestigious ateliers in Paris. “We put a lot of effort into uplifting the craftsmanship this season,” said Chong. “People deserve value for money.”
There is value, too, in the sense of optimism these clothes will inject into people’s lives—among them tweed shifts and crochet sets with serotonin-topping trims of pale-pink fuzz; chenille bodycon numbers that Chong described as having the structural properties of shapewear; and a pussy-bow twist on a lamé maxi dress which has proved almost as popular as last spring’s hot pants. “People want to get laid,” Chong said, with a laugh. “But we can’t just design for the adventurous types.” A series of double-breasted midi dresses and power-shouldered suede button-downs will be better suited to those on the demure end of Self-Portrait’s global audience. “The message is similar each season,” said Chong. “The question is: ‘How can we build on the blueprint and perfect our customer’s wardrobe through subtle details?’ It’s never about what I want to design. It’s about catering to her everyday life.”
