This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
> NECESSARYAlways enabled
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously.
> FUNCTIONALDisabled
Functional cookies help to perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collect feedbacks, and other third-party features.
> ANALYTICSDisabled
Analytics cookies are used to understand and analyse website traffic and user behavior. This helps us improve our website and services.
Direct from Milan, beauty disruptor Kiko Milano hit Paris and London Fashion Weeks with an interactive activation.
Built around a simple concept of ‘tear, wear, get rewarded’, the campaign invited passersby to tear off a wristband to unlock exclusive in-store rewards.
UNCLE brought the idea to life across both capitals, turning high-fashion crowds into active participants.
The neo-soul diva joined forces with hip-hop producer, The Alchemist, to drop their new single, ‘Witch Doctor’. Teasing their ironically titled upcoming project, Sorry, we don’t have an album title yet…, the duo issued an invitation to share one last kiss, hit, dance, and joke before the world blows up.
UNCLE spread the message between Paris and London, deploying a bilingual campaign with 4-sheets and B1 posters carrying playful slogans like ‘one more dance’ and ‘un dernier baiser’.
“I always felt Creole heritage had been put in the same box. I wanted to decolonise it, refresh it and reframe everything.”
That’s Vincent Frédéric-Colombo explaining the thinking behind C.R.E.O.L.E, the Paris-based fashion project and wider cultural world he founded after moving back to France from Guadeloupe, the French Caribbean archipelago where he grew up. A world that now exists somewhere between fashion label, photographic language, nightlife institution and cultural manifesto.
Born in Paris before being raised in Guadeloupe, Frédéric-Colombo returned to mainland France after high school, initially studying product design, sociology and anthropology before a brief spell in fashion education. “Fashion was actually the shortest part of my studies,” he laughs. “I only spent one semester in fashion school.”
Still, fashion became the medium through which many of his wider questions around identity, diaspora and representation would eventually take shape. Early on, he worked in retail while slowly developing a personal project that was initially less about launching a brand and more about understanding himself. “It was more sociological and anthropological for me,” he says. “I was trying to have this introspection about my identity, to see what I could add and what was missing at the time.”
A major turning point came through meeting photographer Fanny Viguier during an editorial styling project. Together, they began creating images built around a “new vocabulary” of Creole identity, producing portraits that centred different body types, mixed identities and communities often flattened or stereotyped within mainstream depictions of Caribbean culture. Those early shoots eventually became exhibitions, and those exhibitions eventually became parties.
“At first, people thought it was another exhibition opening,” he says. “But a lot of people came, and they really liked the concept of the party too.”
That chance crossover became La CREOLE, now one of Paris’ most recognisable clubnights and a vital space for Afro-Caribbean, Black and queer communities within the city’s club landscape. Dancehall, shatta, house, ballroom, rap, zouk and electronic music all collide on La CREOLE dancefloors, where fashion, movement, sound and identity become difficult to separate from one another.
The nightlife side of the project became important not only because of the music itself, but because it transformed the philosophy behind the imagery into something physical and communal. A room where people could experience those ideas together rather than simply observe them.
Even as La CREOLE grew into a major club institution, Frédéric-Colombo stayed focused on developing the fashion side of the project. During the pandemic especially, he began refining what C.R.E.O.L.E could become as a standalone brand. “Creole is clearly a colonial term,” he says. “But what Creole means now is not the same meaning it had at that time. I wanted to give my own version of what could be interesting to debate about Creole culture.”
Now almost five years into the brand’s existence, and firmly established within the Paris fashion calendar, C.R.E.O.L.E continues to move fluidly between clothing, photography, sound and public space. That fluidity now extends onto the streets themselves through UNCLE’s Paris flyposting campaign, placing Frédéric-Colombo’s imagery directly into the city around him.
“If they don’t know me,” he says later in our conversation, “they will know me.”
THE NAME CARRIES A LOT OF MEANING THAT CAN DIFFER ACROSS THE WORLD. WHAT DOES CREOLE MEAN TO YOU PERSONALLY, CULTURALLY AND POLITICALLY?
For me, it’s really linked to the concept of creolisation. Before I realised there was this theoretical aspect to it, it was something I was personally experiencing.
Even when I was a kid in Guadeloupe, I knew I was from there and that my family was from there, but I also felt like I needed something from other places. I deeply connect with this community, but I also need to be kind of far from it.
Maybe I felt more connected to my culture when I moved to France, because when I was in Guadeloupe, I just wanted to escape. Not because I felt like it didn’t fit me, but because I felt bored. Everything could feel the same every year, every season. If you tried to go a little bit out of line, people would criticise you or judge you. They would ask, “Why are you doing that?”
From a young age, I think I had this confidence to try to be myself, no matter what people thought. That is still something really hard, and it still triggers people today. But I saw that experience of frustration as maybe the fuel of creativity.
Because of the frustration we can have from these archipelago places, maybe we are also more connected to the outside. We create something deeper from the inside, because we have this necessity to prove to ourselves, and to the community, that we are bigger than just the place we live.
CAN YOU TALK ME THROUGH THOSE BEGINNINGS, AND WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO EXPLORE VISUALLY?
At first, it was really a personal fashion project. I didn’t know if I wanted to release a brand, but I wanted to explore my identity from a sociological and anthropological point of view and think about what I could add and what was missing at the time.
Then I started collaborating with Fanny Viguier. We met through an editorial project, when I was doing styling, and it was the first time I felt a special connection with a photographer. I wanted to compose a new vocabulary around Creole heritage. I always felt Creole heritage had been put in the same box. I wanted to decolonise it, refresh it and reframe everything.
We slowly started developing images with samples I had made. The first exhibition was like an introduction to the brand chapter. We made portraits of different body types, different mixes of people, showing the diversity of communities that exist in Creole society.
The audience received it really well. People were asking, “Where can I get this T-shirt, this hoodie, this bag?” And I thought, okay, maybe I have something to do with that.
I READ THAT THE CLUB NIGHT ALMOST STARTED BY ACCIDENT, AFTER AN EXHIBITION OPENING TURNED INTO A PARTY. WAS THERE A MOMENT WHERE YOU REALISED THIS COULD BECOME MORE THAN A ONE-OFF NIGHT?
Exactly. It started from an exhibition opening. We didn’t know if people would be interested in the project. We invited the models, friends, and there was maybe an article somewhere to bring people, but you never know if people will really engage.
Then, when you see it in real life, when you see how invested people are, how they come and how they react, you realise something is happening. It was not just a frustration inside, or a discussion you have with friends. It was more like: okay, let’s do something. Action is stronger than words.
And then the cops came too, because people were drinking bottles outside in the street. It wasn’t really about the opening, but maybe that was a sign of success.
THE FASHION ARM OF THE BRAND IS FLOURISHING BUT THE BRAND CONTINUES TO MOVE BETWEEN PHOTOGRAPHY, FASHION, DANCE, NIGHTLIFE, POLITICS AND COMMUNITY RATHER THAN SITTING NEATLY IN ONE LANE. WAS THAT ALWAYS THE PLAN?
I feel like the party is an immense element of reunion in Caribbean and Black culture. It doesn’t need to give a political speech to bring people together. That might be one of the strongest things we did.
With images, you can present a certain sense of fashion, a certain aesthetic, a certain casting, and all the philosophical aspects we like. But when you put that into a party environment, it becomes speechless. You don’t have to say anything special. People just experience it.
We wanted to push the limits. You have Caribbean vibes, African vibes, Latino vibes, but often they stay in separate sections. People create and listen to similar kinds of music, but they also stay in their own communities because that feels safe for them. We tried to create a bridge for people from these communities, and for people from these communities who feel disconnected from them because they have other backgrounds, other aspirations, other styles of music and life.
That is why we bring together electronic cultures too: drum and bass, techno, house, dancehall, zouk, salsa. These are things people might share at a house party, but in the club, it can feel like you have to wear a mask or enter into a character.
At La CREOLE, the idea is that it can mean a lot of things, and sometimes nothing fixed at all.
YOUR PINNED POST ON INSTAGRAM SAYS LA CREOLE IS OPEN TO EVERYONE BUT STARTS FIRST AND FOREMOST WITH MINORITIES. WHY WAS IT IMPORTANT TO SAY THAT SO CLEARLY?
Because we feel every good party starts to become a little bit gentrified in its audience.
It’s important for people to know that we make this party for communities that don’t always have a large visibility. Even when they do exist, sometimes it is only for their own community and not outside of that.
We wanted to invite people to discover how we love to party, how we like to dance, and how we don’t need the hype to feel valid. A lot of this music and culture did not have a big place in certain clubs before, so opening space for it is also part of the education.
We are here to celebrate people, but you don’t need to make them invisible. People from minorities, including sexual minorities, are deeply important to us.
In the queer community, sometimes it can be separate from Black communities too, so it is important for people to feel safe and embraced. You can see that in carnival, for example. Carnival is such an important event in so many Caribbean and Black Caribbean places, and maybe one of the most unique moments where queer people can express their creativity and not feel blamed for it.
We have had a lot of people from the ballroom community, dancers and performers in the crew, and we always defend this part of the community being visible.
Even though I’m queer and mixed, and Fanny is straight and white, we still work hand in hand to push this further, and also to be respected for that. Sometimes people approach us and say, “We like what you do,” but they just want the vibe. And we have to say, no, we don’t work for that.
You need to respect the fact that it’s not only DJs you are booking. It is not only a certain kind of music you are booking. If you book us, you book us to represent something. You need to respect that.
WE’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THE TERM “SAFE SPACE”, AND HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO GUARANTEE SAFETY IN ANY SETTING. WE RECENTLY HEARD SOMEONE USE “INTENTIONAL SPACE” INSTEAD. DOES THAT FEEL CLOSER TO WHAT LA CRÉOLE IS TRYING TO CREATE, AND WHAT DOES THAT CARE LOOK LIKE IN PRACTICE AT ONE OF YOUR NIGHTS?
For sure. We always choose places where we know they have a certain way to welcome the audience. We don’t just do parties to do parties.
A lot of spaces contact us because they want to do something, but sometimes they just want to make money. For us, if we are bringing our community into a place, we need to be sure that it can be safe, and that if something happens, people will react in the right way.
We had one situation where a guy from security asked a girl who was topless to cover herself. We were like, why are you doing that? Because some other guys are talking about her? You don’t do that. We spoke to the head of security, and that person was removed during the night.
We have also had moments where someone seemed suspicious, and some girls mentioned it, so we brought the guy out of the door. Girls love to come to the party because they feel people are not trying to flirt with them too much. They feel they can be themselves.
The crowd also helps regulate that safety. If there is a problem, people are really open, and they call security fast. Sometimes we will say something on the mic too.
One time, one of our performers saw someone in the crowd doing a middle finger towards him while he was dancing. He asked the DJ to stop the music, took the mic and called it out. We called security, stopped the music, and told the guy: if you don’t like seeing people like this, why did you come? You are free to leave.
There is a balance that is naturally made by the crowd, because they love the space for a reason and they try to preserve it. That is really important. We didn’t always make posts about this before, but at a certain point we felt it was necessary to put it on the page as a reminder, because our people need to feel like this party is home.
YOUR WORK IS NOT EXCLUSIVE TO PARIS, BUT IT IS THE BRAND’S HOME, SO HOW DOES PARIS INSPIRE YOU CREATIVELY?
Paris is really a human-sized city for a capital. It is a global city, but you have so many communities in the same small area. You can have so many styles of life, so many styles of architecture and so many kinds of people you can meet.
That cosmopolitan aspect of the city is really interesting. If you want to eat world food, you can find so many good addresses. If you want something more basic from French cuisine, you can find that too. If you want to go to a little grocery or a boulangerie, you can find something really delicious for almost nothing, or something really expensive.
It has different levels. It can be fancy, it can be simple.
HOW DOES YOUR OWN HERITAGE AND UPBRINGING INFLUENCE THE CLOTHES YOU MAKE?
I try to synthesise a lot of elements of the aesthetics I love, even some things I hated before. I think it is interesting to use the frustration of why I hated certain things, and why they were so popular, and then try to find a way to like them.
I celebrate elements of style my grandfather had, my dad had, my brother had, and people I loved to see on my island. I also bring in my personal point of view on fashion, because I always felt like an outsider. I was received as an outsider for my style, even in middle school and high school.
People would say, “Why are you dressing like this?” Or they would say, “You’re like an Oreo. You’re trying to look more white than Black.” But I was never trying to pretend that. My aspirations were just different.
At the same time, there are a lot of elements from Caribbean aesthetics that I like, but sometimes I didn’t really project myself onto them. Even if I liked them, I wasn’t sure if they dealt with me.
Now I use that in my brand. I explore another way to present some of those elements and try to amplify or minimise certain details. Even the string vest is such a men’s element. You can see it in so many men’s wardrobes in tropical spaces. I think it is funny to see how we can challenge something really simple and make it fashion.
The way I work with tie-dye is similar. It is something anybody could do, but I try to find a way to make it semi-artisanal and semi-industrial. It can look simple, even cheesy, but if you find a way to twist it, it can be genius.
WHAT ARE YOU USING THE UNCLE FLYPOSTING SPOTS TO PROMOTE?
I am using them to promote some samples that were missing from my last show. They are polo shirts, kind of soccer polo shirts.
Because it is the World Cup year, I wanted to show something a little bit sportier in my brand. Maybe some people have never seen that side of my aesthetic before.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO HAVE THIS WORK OUT ON THE STREETS OF PARIS, RATHER THAN ON A PHONE SCREEN, IN A STUDIO OR AT A SHOW?
For so many brands, and in particular for brands managed by Black-owned designers or Black-owned entrepreneurs, it is really important to show people that we exist, and that we can make it well.
Not just to make it, but to make it well. We can have a global impact, even in really gentrified places. It is about showing: if they don’t know me, they will know me.
The idea is to make really nice images, and also to show that I can surprise people with Creole culture. Even the name of the brand is a question. People could be like, “What is Creole about this?” or “I never saw this kind of person in an advertisement.”
It will be fun to see how people react to that, and to see how images usually dedicated to social media can take place in the city. Sometimes we never know which wall will be chosen, and it could create something magical.
Kayali took over Berlin with a bold, experiential campaign that turned heads and sweetened the daily commute. To launch the irresistible new fragrance, Vanilla | 28, the brand unveiled an audacious sampling billboard rooted in a simple philosophy: ‘Life’s too short not to live it sweetly!’
Executed by UNCLE, this interactive activation allowed passing Berliners to take a little sweetness with them. It was a cheeky, sensory escape brought to the street, proving that Kayali know exactly how to deliver pure indulgence.
“Breakers means anyone breaking a mould – not just dancers, but people carving their own path.”
That definition, offered by designer and co-editor Sebastián Esguerra, sits at the heart of Breakers Magazine, a print-first platform rooted in breaking but reaching far beyond it. Founded by Paris-born dancer Tom Chaix in 2021 while living on Réunion Island, Breakers began as a self-taught experiment in editorial storytelling. Inspired by the likes of The Surfer’s Journal and independent skate zines, Chaix envisioned a magazine that could do for breaking what print culture had long done for other street movements: document it with care, creativity, and intent.
Now five issues deep, Breakers has evolved into a bilingual, community-built project run between Paris and Montpellier, with an extended network of contributors around the world. It’s as likely to include essays on dance as it is portfolios on graffiti, interviews with hip-hop academics, or short stories that orbit the culture in more abstract ways. Its design sensibility, led by Esguerra is raw, tactile, and always evolving. More than just a magazine, Breakers has become a kind of ecosystem: producing events, collaborating on video and editorial projects, and working with cultural spaces across France.
Their latest collaboration with UNCLE sees Breakers return to the street, this time through a wildposting campaign that turns pages into posters. Bold quotes pulled from past issues now line Paris walls, inviting passersby into the world they’ve built. “It’s not just marketing,” says Tom. “It’s part of our DNA. DIY, physical, public-facing. Just like breaking itself.” At the centre of everything is a belief in community over clout. Their Tribe Tales event series, channels that same ethos: bringing crews together not just to battle, but to build. For Breakers, success isn’t measured in followers or sales, but in relationships and in staying true to the culture that raised them.
What follows is a conversation with the two co-leads Tom and Sebastián, about their creative process, how to grow something without diluting it, and what it means to build a platform that’s local, global, and rooted in real movement.
CAN YOU INTRODUCE YOURSELVES IN YOUR OWN WORDS?
TOM: I’m Tom Chaix. I was born in Paris but didn’t grow up there, I’ve spent most of my life abroad. I started Breakers Magazine in 2021, during a period of reset on Réunion Island, just off the coast of Madagascar. I was trained as a civil engineer, but I’ve been breaking for over a decade now. That mix of technical background and creative curiosity led me to try something new. The magazine began as a personal experiment: a way to learn design, writing, and publishing on my own terms and to offer breaking the kind of visual and editorial culture that exists in skateboarding or surfing. I did the first edition solo, but thanks to that, I met Sebastián and from there, we started building a collective.
SEBASTIÁN: I’m Sebastián Esguerra. I grew up in Colombia and moved to France a few years ago. My background isn’t in dance, it’s in skateboarding, football, photography, and design. I’ve always been close to hip-hop through friends and creative projects, but it was when I saw Tom’s first issue of Breakers that I really felt connected. Even though it focused on breaking, it wasn’t just about moves or battles, it was about the lives, the stories, the emotion around the culture. That human side of things drew me in. Now I help lead the artistic direction of the magazine, and we try to make it a platform that goes beyond breaking, into the full spectrum of street culture and creative self-expression.
HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE BREAKERS MAGAZINE TO SOMEONE PICKING IT UP FOR THE FIRST TIME?
TOM: It’s a physical object first. That’s always been central to the vision, something tactile, something to hold. From the beginning, I didn’t want to build a website or chase SEO. I wanted to make something beautiful, like the surf and skate mags I admired. That kind of print culture never really existed in breaking, so we made our own. It’s bilingual, built from scratch, and it’s grown issue by issue alongside the people who’ve joined the project.
SEBASTIÁN: And it’s not just about breaking, it never really was. We use breaking as a way in, but what we’re really interested in is the people: their stories, struggles, creativity, and how culture lives in the everyday. For me, Breakers is a platform for all kinds of street culture, not just dancers, but skaters, DJs, photographers, writers, even academics. It’s a home for stories that aren’t always told, but that carry a lot of weight.
WHAT WAS THE ORIGINAL MOTIVATION BEHIND STARTING A PRINT MAGAZINE IN A DIGITAL-FIRST WORLD?
TOM: Honestly, digital never even crossed my mind. I wanted something physical, something you could leave out on a table, something collectible. That feeling of print as an object, not just a container for content. It wasn’t about starting a media company or building a brand. It was more instinctive: I love breaking, I love talking to people, and I wanted to make something that could archive all that in a way that felt meaningful. And to be honest, I also wanted to teach myself how to do everything, from editing to layout to building a website. The magazine gave me a reason to learn.
SEBASTIÁN: For me, it was about getting back to that feeling of permanence. As a designer, I’ve always loved books, posters, printed matter. I’ll buy something even if I don’t speak the language, just because of how it looks and feels. And I think print helps us slow down, it lets you sit with something, come back to it. It becomes an archive, a reference. Each issue of Breakers is a snapshot of the culture at that moment, and I think there’s value in that beyond the instant pace of online content.
WHAT’S THE HISTORY OF BREAKING IN FRANCE, AND WHY DO YOU THINK IT RESONATES SO DEEPLY HERE?
TOM: France has a long relationship with hip-hop, but breaking’s position here is still pretty unique. One reason is that, unlike rap or DJing, breaking was never tied to a product. You can’t sell a dance move. It’s not like skateboarding, where there’s a whole industry built around selling boards and shoes. In breaking, you’ve got music, a floor, maybe some shoes but that’s it. So the culture grew live, in the moment. You had to be there. And I think in France, that suited something about our creative spirit, especially in cities like Paris, where street culture has always had a strong presence. There’s a history here of reclaiming public space, performing in the street, and building scenes without needing permission.
HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHAT MAKES IT INTO AN ISSUE OF BREAKERS?
SEBASTIÁN: From the beginning, we’ve tried to keep a strong editorial structure, things like the photo portfolio, the “Talks” section, interviews with people inside and outside of dance. Some articles focus on breaking history, others are more abstract. We’ve even included fiction. What matters most is the voice and the perspective. We’re not interested in sport-style breakdowns or fitness routines. We want to know how people use breaking or hip-hop more broadly, to navigate their lives.
TOM: Exactly. We’re more drawn to the stories behind the moves. Breaking teaches you emotional intelligence, how to collaborate, how to fail and keep going. It’s a hustle. And once someone’s learned to move through all that, you know there’s a lot they can say about their environment, about culture, about themselves. We’re open to anything that carries that kind of depth, whether it’s a dancer or a photographer or someone writing about film. What links them is mindset. That’s what Breakers is really built around.
WHAT WAS SPECIAL ABOUT THE ENERGY AT TRIBE TALES II, AND HOW DID IT EXCEED YOUR EXPECTATIONS?
TOM: Tribe Tales came out of a feeling that we needed to bring people into the Breakers world, not just as readers, but physically into a space. The magazine is about building something slowly, with trust, with emotional intelligence. And the event was the same. We created a concept based on how crews work together: how they make decisions, how they choose who battles who. It’s not just about the best dancer, it’s about communication, about understanding your crew and how to support each other. The name “Tribe Tales” reflects that. We wanted to celebrate collectives and the way they move together.
SEBASTIÁN: And it wasn’t just the format, it was the energy. The second edition completely blew us away. So many more people than we expected showed up. It was full of love, of community. What made it special was that it didn’t stay inside one bubble, we had one day inside a library, with cyphers and DJ sets, and another with a party and a battle in a totally different venue. That contrast helped draw in new crowds. It’s what we always try to do: keep things rooted in breaking and hip-hop but also open the doors to anyone who wants to connect with the vibe. People came as crews, as friends, as families. That’s the kind of unity we care about.
BREAKING IS SOMETHING THAT TYPICALLY HAPPENS IN THE STREET, SO IS WILDPOSTING A NATURAL FIT FOR YOU? WHAT EXCITES YOU ABOUT THIS FORMAT, AND WHAT DO YOU HOPE THE POSTERS WILL ACHIEVE?
SEBASTIÁN: The wildposting campaign is a way for us to show that Breakers is much bigger than just breaking. The posters going up around Paris right now are designed to communicate the spirit of what we do, bridging hip-hop with other street cultures, and opening the door to new collaborators. We want people who don’t know the magazine yet to see something that makes them curious, that draws them in. And for those who do know us, it’s about reaffirming what we stand for: independence, creativity, and cultural connection.
TOM: One of the things you’ll see in the posters are quotes pulled straight from the pages of Breakers, lines that capture the energy, values, and voices of the people we feature. Things like “Ego is a dance.” We kept the design raw and direct: just the quote, the speaker’s name, and our logo. Because for us, wildposting isn’t just a marketing tool, it’s a continuation of our approach since day one. DIY, street-level, self-funded. Like breaking itself, it’s about being present in public space and sharing something real. This is how we reach people by being visible, not just online, but on the walls of the cities we care about.
HOW WOULD YOU COMPARE THE CREATIVE SCENES OF PARIS AND MONTPELLIER, YOUR TWO HOME CITIES?
TOM: Paris is amazing if you’re organised and know exactly what you’re aiming for, it’s full of opportunities, but also full of noise. So many creatives, so much competition. For me, Montpellier made more sense. I’ve got family here, and I’m not trying to do this full-time for a living. It’s still a passion. And here, you can build more stable relationships, more community. People trust you quicker. I linked with venues super easily, they believed in Breakers right away. In Paris, it might’ve taken longer to get that trust.
SEBASTIÁN: That’s it. In Paris, before people even give you a chance, you need the social network, the right references, all that. In smaller cities, like Montpellier, it’s more, “Okay, let’s talk, let’s do something together.” There’s less gatekeeping. And the crowds are more mixed. You’ll get families, young people, older people, people who’ve never seen breaking before all at the same event. It feels more open.
WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE TO HEAR MUSIC? IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE IN PARIS…
TOM: Honestly? My car. These days, I spend so much time in it with my daughter that it’s where I listen to everything.
SEBASTIÁN: I’ve been enjoying smaller venues in Paris like New Morning, La Gare Jazz—places where you get live jazz jams with different line-ups every night. It’s raw and made for the moment. There’s also a good scene around Bastille with everything from rap to rock.
AND THE BEST PLACE TO DANCE?
TOM: My car, again… No, maybe a crowded room with tight cyphers, or a techno afterparty. Anywhere with energy bouncing off the walls. SEBASTIÁN: I don’t break, but I love to dance, especially to Latin music. I’ll go wherever there’s movement, even if it’s a reggaeton night. But honestly, any place with a good vibe and a fast two-step works for me.
HOW CAN PEOPLE SUPPORT BREAKERS MAGAZINE?
TOM: The best way is just to reach out. Write to us, share your ideas, show us your work. We’re always open to building something interesting together, whether it’s editorial, design, photography, or events. It doesn’t have to be big or polished. We’re a collective at heart, and collaboration is what’s kept this whole thing alive.
SEBASTIÁN: Yeah, and it’s not really about money. Of course, funding would give us more time to dedicate to the project, but what we’re really looking for is connection. People who get what we’re doing and want to contribute creatively. Writers, designers, editors, cultural workers. If you see a way to build with us, let’s talk.
Brotherhood. Beurcore. Tears in a virtual outdoor gym. Hookah smoke in a pixelated lounge. This is the world of Sara Sadik.
Born in Bordeaux in 1994 and now based in Marseille, Sadik creates richly imagined universes that blend fiction, documentary, French rap, gaming, and emotional intimacy. Her practice explores masculinity, Maghrebi identity, and working-class youth culture in France, what she sometimes calls Beurcore through the lens of digital art, machinima, and performance. With a degree from the Bordeaux School of Fine Arts, her work has been exhibited internationally in cities including Paris, Berlin, Liverpool, London, Rome, and New York.
Across films and CGI, Sadik’s characters, usually young men, undergo emotional or spiritual transformation in stylised, often surreal environments. In XENON PALACE CHAMPIONSHIP (2023), a mystical hookah lounge becomes a refuge for friendship and healing. In La Potion (EH), a video game avatar navigates anxiety, melancholy and serenity from inside a BMW parked on Camden High Street. These aren’t just visual experiences, they’re emotional architectures, filled with tenderness, tension, and unexpected humour.
“The worlds I create are fictional, but rooted in real life,” she tells UNCLE. “Sometimes they take place in the present, more often in the near future. They can be set in virtual or real environments, but they always stage real emotions and real experiences.”
Her imagined spaces, often shaped like video games or reality TV, remix the codes, objects and symbols of French working-class youth culture. These aren’t just visual spaces, she explains, “they’re emotional and symbolic territories where other ways of existing can be imagined.” At their core: identity, love, masculinity, and transformation.
But what happens when an artist like Sadik takes her virtual world to the streets, through a wildposting campaign across Paris?
Well – more of the same.
Because for Sadik, the gallery has never been the final destination. “I believe that art shouldn’t be confined to exclusive places,” she says. “It’s all about who feels welcome and who doesn’t.”
Her own first encounter with an exhibition came late, and only through art school. That distance still shapes her outlook. “My work is about creating environments where people can see themselves reflected,” she continues, “especially those whose lives and realities are rarely represented in these spaces. And showing it exclusively in those institutional spaces sometimes feels counterproductive.”
Instead, she speaks of bending institutional rules, slipping between formats, and making space for new audiences. Audiences that will find the Marseille artist’s work on Parisian walls.
YOUR WORK LIVES BETWEEN FICTION AND DOCUMENTARY, YET DRAWS HEAVILY ON GAMING, ANIME AND RAP MUSIC, TOO. CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT THE EARLIEST INFLUENCES THAT SHAPED YOUR VISUAL LANGUAGE?
I’m really a child of television. I grew up with cable at home, so I was constantly watching everything from Disney Channel to MTV, cartoons, reality shows, anime, whatever was on. That shaped my visual language early on. When I started art school and began making videos, I naturally started remixing those references, recreating the formats I grew up with. It’s the same with video-game and French rap. It was a huge part of my life growing up and so it’s always been part of my work.
Among all of it, the very first one was TV shopping. I used to watch it every morning with my mom. That format gave me so much freedom. I could experiment with visuals, voiceovers, objects design, writing, and performance. I was creating my own objects, playing the host, building a whole show. It was a way for me to talk about my culture differently, with humour but also with depth. Behind the playful surface, there was something more personal and layered happening. It allowed me to express working-class culture on my own terms, both in how it looked and in what it meant.
DO YOU SEE YOUR PRACTICE AS WORLD-BUILDING? AND IF SO, WHAT DOES A SARA SADIK WORLD ALWAYS INCLUDE?
Yes, actually the world-building process comes first in all my projects. Each project has a complete universe where fiction and real-life emotions coexist. I would say that they always include young men from working-class and diasporic communities in France, often marked by fragility, but never reduced to it. These worlds blend the codes of video games, reality TV, rap, and sci-fi to create transformative narratives. They are built from real gestures, objects, languages, and emotions that I reinterpret to imagine new ways of being. They are always spaces for inner journeys, for love, for self-discovery, for resilience. They always include a deep emotional dimension, and a desire to offer alternative narrative. MUCH OF YOUR WORK REVOLVES AROUND EMOTIONAL TRANSFORMATION – ESPECIALLY FOR YOUNG MEN AS SEEN IN YOUR XENON PALACE CHAMPIONSHIP. WHAT DRAWS YOU TO EXPLORING SPECIFIC THEMES IN YOUR WORK?
For me, it reflects something deeply intimate and political at the same time. I often work with young men who carry visible and invisible wounds, and I want to create spaces where they can be seen as they are, where fragility becomes strength, and emotions are not a weakness but a path to growth.
Themes like love, identity, resilience or friendship are at the core because they’re rarely offered with care or depth to these men in mainstream narratives. Through my fiction, I try to imagine what healing could look like when tenderness is allowed to exist, especially for those who are denied the space for personal growth in real life where social and emotional transformation is often blocked by structural violence and everyday struggles.
YOUR WORK PUTS EMOTIONS LIKE ANXIETY AND SERENITY INTO A GAMING-STYLE ENVIRONMENT THAT, GROWING UP PLAYING GAMES, DIDN’T ALWAYS COME ACROSS IN THE LIMITED GRAPHIC QUALITY AND STORYLINES. WHY DO YOU THINK VIDEO GAMES AND INTERACTIVE ANIMATION ARE SUCH A POWERFUL ART FORM?
These types of media create immersive spaces where emotions become active experiences rather than passive observations. As an artist, I have the freedom to create games and interactive work that are not intended for commercial platforms but rather become machinima films or experimental narratives. This freedom allows me to tell sensitive and nuanced stories, exploring emotional depths that conventional games often avoid, even though this has changed now. Within this space, I can experiment and push boundaries, to develop new ways of storytelling.
THERE’S AN INTIMACY IN YOUR CHARACTERS, EVEN WHEN THEY’RE STYLISED OR ‘VIRTUAL’. HOW DO YOU HUMANISE DIGITAL FIGURES AND KEEP EMOTION AT THE CENTRE?
I believe the key is to ground them in real, intimate stories and emotional truths. Even when they’re virtual avatars, my characters carry the weight of lived experiences of the people they’re inspired by, their vulnerabilities, desires, and contradictions. I draw from real voices to make them relatable and authentic.
A central technique I use is internal monologue, which allows the character to express their inner thoughts and emotions directly to the audience. I’m doing this as a way to humanise this virtual persona but also to show or tell their internal struggles and aspirations, making their experiences more tangible and emotionally resonant. I feel that’s how the connection between the viewer and the character can happen, by making an avatar a complex, feeling individual.
YOU’VE SAID YOU LOVE WHEN ART IS TAKEN OUT OF THE GALLERY. WHY DOES THAT MATTER TO YOU?
I believe that art shouldn’t be confined to exclusive places. It’s all about who feels/is welcome and who doesn’t/isn’t. I don’t remember the first time I went to a gallery show, but it was quite late in my life, and only through my art studies.
My work is about creating environments where people can see themselves reflected, especially those whose lives and realities are rarely represented in these spaces. And showing it exclusively in those institutional spaces sometimes feels counterproductive.
I chose to work within the institutional art world and I accept some of its rules, but I also try to bend them to make space for other presences, other narratives, and other audiences. That’s why, whenever I can, I try to make sure my work can also be experienced in more public or accessible ways.
WHAT KINDS OF SPACES (PHYSICAL OR DIGITAL) DO YOU FEEL ARE STILL MISSING FOR ARTISTS WORKING LIKE YOU?
I don’t yet have a clear vision of what kinds of spaces should be created, whether physical or digital. I do believe that it’s necessary to have many of them, hybrid and evolving. But I think others will be the ones to imagine and build them.
YOU’RE BASED IN MARSEILLE, AND MUCH HAS BEEN SAID ABOUT ITS CULTURAL DISTANCE FROM PARIS. HAS BEING FROM THERE SHAPED YOUR SENSE OF IDENTITY AS AN ARTIST – OR YOUR STORYTELLING?
Choosing to live in Marseille instead of Paris, especially at a time when Paris was the obvious choice for many graduates, gave me the freedom to evolve at my own pace. I was able to grow without being in a hyper-competitive context and stay free in how I wanted to create. Marseille is also a city filled with powerful symbols, which naturally found their way into my work. Since I focus on a specific social group, being here also allowed me to collaborate with local people and institutions directly connected to the stories I tell.
A LOT OF YOUR WORK FEELS LIKE IT’S ABOUT TRANSFORMATION – MORAL, EMOTIONAL, PHYSICAL. DO YOU SEE YOUR CHARACTERS AS STAND-INS FOR YOU, OR FOR SOMEONE SPECIFIC?
They’re not autobiographical, but they carry parts of me (emotions, memories, questions). They’re shaped by people I know, people I share moments with. It can be teenagers that I meet and work with during a workshop or men from my life such as my husband or my brother. It’s always a mix of personal and collective experience.
What interests me is transformation as a form of resistance or survival. These characters often go through things that reality doesn’t allow them to fully experience like healing, tenderness, recognition. Fiction gives me a way to offer them that space, even if it’s virtual or imagined.
YOUR INSTAGRAM IS PRIVATE – WHICH IS RARE FOR A DIGITAL ARTIST. IS THAT A CONSCIOUS BOUNDARY, OR MORE PERSONAL THAN PROFESSIONAL?
I’ve switched it back and forth a few times but recently decided to keep it private for good. Even if it’s a professional account, it’s my only one and still gives everyone a kind of direct access to me. At some point I needed to protect that. My personal life comes first, even if it’s not the most strategic choice professionally. I still accept most requests, but I just feel safer this way.
WHAT FEELS URGENT FOR YOU TO EXPLORE NEXT – EITHER IN TERMS OF FORMAT, THEME, OR EMOTIONAL TERRITORY?
I feel like I’ve managed to bring certain stories and voices into Contemporary Art, now I’d like to do the same with French cinema. It’s another space where I feel there’s still a real lack, maybe less in terms of who’s represented but definitely in how. I already started to think and work on it, but it’s taking some time.
Regarding themes, I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing and try to keep expanding it. Lately, I’ve been drawn back to teenagerhood because it’s a period where everything shifts so fast and I want to keep telling and archiving those new stories.
DO YOU THINK DIGITAL ART IS BEING TAKEN MORE SERIOUSLY NOW, OR ARE THERE STILL MISCONCEPTIONS YOU’RE WORKING AGAINST?
Yes I think it is. But I still feel that within institutions, there’s often a lack of proper equipment and professional technicians to support the installation of digital works, even more interactive work. There’s also sometimes a lack in how these works are discussed and presented to the public by mediation teams, especially when it comes to convey the why and how about the medium, the technologies involved and the artistic intentions behind the use of them.
WHAT WOULD YOUR DREAM PUBLIC ARTWORK LOOK LIKE, IF THERE WERE NO LIMITS?
I actually have one in mind, but I’d rather not describe it yet. It’s something I hope I can make happen in the future, so I prefer to keep it to myself for now.
The Paris-based fashion label is rooted in community, identity, and defiance against mainstream fast-fashion brands. This is not something you rock for a season, this is something you tie your flag to. And DÜNYA’s flag is upcycled keffiyeh featuring Arabic lettering.
Everything item of clothing you’ll find for sale at Isis Dünya’s website has been handmade, from the leopard print hijabs worn by models next to busy Parisian streets, to the KHALID polka-dot swimsuits worn atop a Ducati motorcycle. The independent designer behind the brand that’s resonating with first, second and third-generation immigrants, LGBTQ+ communities, upcoming DJs, independent musicians and more, admits that it’s a ‘constant challenge’ to balance sustainability and creativity – especially when you’re up against huge corporate brands.
However, as her latest campaign is about to hit the website and the streets of her hometown, she seems as upbeat and resilient as the message that her vibrant brand sends out. Having worked with giants like adidas and Nike, and uniquely community-led names like Red Star and Palestina FC, Isis’ work has spanned culturally rich yet remarkably candid lookbooks, and creative workshops that seek to help and inspire the next generation of marginalised designers and artists break through.
As the latest campaign prepares to go live, not only on the brand’s website but also in the streets of Paris, ISIS DÜNYA maintains an upbeat and resilient energy—one that echoes the defiant tone of her collections. The UNCLE x ISIS DÜNYA collaboration amplifies this message, with the iconic keffiyeh at the centre of the designs. For Isis, it’s not just about incorporating a traditional fabric into her designs; it’s about amplifying the political weight the fabric holds. The keffiyeh, she says, ‘is often appropriated in the fashion world without much understanding of its cultural significance. It represents the struggles of an oppressed people.’
The reimagined keffiyeh print in pink, as seen in the campaign visuals, brings an additional layer of flair, and gives the message that fashion itself is resistance. A mix of bikinis, jackets, pants, and two-piece sets, traditional symbols of resistance blend with modern streetwear and playful silhouettes that you’re bound to see not just in the flyposting campaign, but also sported by DÜNYA’s like-minded customers across the world.
Her designs are as much about cultural storytelling as they are about fashion—whether it’s using fabrics steeped in history or simply showcasing the diverse faces and bodies of her models, she challenges the narrow boxes that the fashion industry often tries to place people in. She celebrates not only her own culture but that of modern-day Paris, where she says: ‘We all grow up together.’
Not for the first time, ISIS DÜNYA is taking her message from the screens of social media and into the streets. As she sees it, fashion isn’t just about what people wear; it’s a tool for activism, a way to start conversations about the issues that matter most, from identity and representation to sustainability and resistance.
In the following interview, we delve deeper into Isis’ journey, her creative process, and the significance of her latest collection—unpacking how DÜNYA is reshaping the narrative both within and beyond the world of fashion trends.
FIRST OF ALL, CAN YOU INTRODUCE YOURSELF IN YOUR OWN WORDS?
I’m 29 years old. I’m the founder of ISIS DÜNYA, a fashion brand focused on diversity, sustainability, and community. I started this brand because, as an Algerian and Turkish woman, I really missed seeing representation in fashion when I was younger. The aim is to create a platform for everyone, but also specifically for minorities like the LGBTQ+ community and People of Colour, and to fight against capitalism and these massive corporate brands.
WERE THERE ANY KEY MOMENTS GROWING UP THAT SHAPED THE DIRECTION THAT YOU’VE GONE DOWN?
Since I was young, I was interested in fashion—not just the trends or the runway stuff, but how people perceive you based on what you wear. I grew up in a middle-class family, and for me, clothes were a way to escape my environment. My grandmother came to France during the Algerian War and became a journalist for a major magazine, but she started with nothing. Clothing played a big role in her ability to navigate this new world, and that really stayed with me. Clothes were a way for me to express myself and challenge stereotypes, whether I was in sportswear or something more elegant.
YOU’VE SPOKEN ABOUT HOW THE FASHION MARKET CAN BE DOMINATED BY FAST FASHION BRANDS. WHAT CHALLENGES DO YOU FACE AS SOMEONE WHO IS ANTI-FAST FASHION?
It’s a constant challenge. Being a sustainable brand costs a lot in terms of logistics and creativity. Every day is a fight to stay true to my values, and the bigger the brand gets, the more complicated it becomes. I mostly create unique pieces, and while that’s what I love, it’s hard to scale that up internationally. I’ve started to produce small series—maybe 10 or 20 pieces—but it’s not easy to grow while maintaining sustainability. I face a lot of resistance from retailers because they’re scared of my approach. They prefer big, trendy brands with mass production, but I think it’s my job to help change that mindset.
CAN YOU WALK US THROUGH YOUR CREATIVE PROCESS WHEN DESIGNING A NEW PIECE?
My process is very instinctive. I don’t work like other designers where they sketch something and then start production. I start with the materials. I go to my suppliers, gather different fabrics, and from there, I plan what I can create. Sometimes I’ll have 10 meters of one fabric, and I’ll design something based on that. I also make mood boards, looking at what worked in the last season and how to evolve from there. Once I’ve got the pieces, I’ll either sell them online or at pop-ups.
Another key part of my process is custom work, where clients come to my atelier, and we have a conversation about what they need. I love being able to make clothing for people that they have played a part in the creative process – perhaps by telling me what they are most comfortable wearing or even what they are not comfortable wearing. It’s a very personal journey, and that’s what I love most.
YOUR CLOTHING INTEGRATES ELEMENTS OF YOUR OWN CULTURAL HERITAGE. COULD YOU EXPLAIN HOW YOUR BACKGROUND INFLUENCES YOUR DESIGNS?
My designs are inspired by a mix of influences. Of course, my Algerian and Turkish heritage plays a role, but I don’t want to limit myself to just that. I work with a lot of non-Western materials and techniques from places like Sub-Saharan Africa, India, and Latin America. I didn’t want to only focus on one cultural identity because that feels exclusionary to me. Paris, where I grew up, is so diverse, and my friends come from all over— my two best friends I have grown up with are from Vietnam and Mali, for example. That’s reflected in my work. It’s about celebrating global heritages, not just one.
YOUR INSTAGRAM HAS A CANDID, UNPLANNED FEEL TO IT. LOTS OF YOUR CUSTOMERS AND FRIENDS FEATURE ON THE FEED, WEARING YOUR CLOTHING OUT AND ABOUT. IS THAT SOMETHING INTENTIONAL THAT YOU’VE DREAMT UP IN A MARKETING PLAN, OR DOES IT JUST HAPPEN ORGANICALLY?
It’s definitely organic. I’m the only one managing the creative direction for my Instagram. I do everything myself—the marketing, the photos, even the sewing. Now I have some help with assistants, but most of the content you see is spontaneous. I’ll post a picture if it feels right at the moment. It’s very instinctive.
AND AS AN INDEPENDENT BRAND, HOW VALUABLE HAS THE IMPACT OF SOCIAL MEDIA BEEN FOR YOU?
Instagram is a powerful tool for communication, especially for people like me who aren’t necessarily represented in mainstream fashion. When I do workshops in fashion schools, especially in more working-class areas, I see the impact my work has on younger brown girls. They can look at me and feel seen, knowing that they can exist in this space without conforming to the stereotypes.
There’s this French term, beurette, which was often used in the ’90s to describe fashionable Arab women in a very reductive way—think Kim Kardashian, with everything always perfect, glamorous, and heavily curated. But I grew up not really fitting into that image, nor did I want to. My style and my reality are different from what’s typically expected. I’m an Arab woman living in Paris, hanging out with my friends, going to techno parties, just living my life. That’s what I try to reflect on my Instagram: authenticity. It’s not curated for perfection; it’s just me and what I experience every day.
WHAT HAS BEEN THE HIGHLIGHT OF YOUR CAREER SO FAR?
One of the biggest highlights for me is going into workshops in popular areas and providing representation for young girls. When I enter a room, I can see that they feel represented by me—a brown girl working in fashion—and that gives them hope. It’s not just about being a designer, it’s about showing them that they can be whatever they want to be. That’s something I really cherish.
I feel a responsibility to provide representation for the younger generation, especially for girls of Arab heritage. It’s not about creating a false image; it’s about showing the many ways you can exist as an Arab woman, without needing to fit into any one category.
WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR THE COLLABORATION WITH UNCLE? WHAT WILL YOU BE USING THE FLYPOSTING CAMPAIGN TO PROMOTE?
The campaign will be the launch of my new collection. The collection is centered around traditional fabrics, specifically the keffiyeh, which is a symbol of resistance in Palestinian culture. For me, fashion is deeply political, and I want this collection to reflect that.
This collection is important because it draws attention to the various cultural and historical narratives that are often overlooked or commodified in mainstream fashion. The keffiyeh isn’t just a piece of cloth; it carries weight and meaning. It’s a symbol of Palestinian resistance, but it has also been appropriated by many in the West without fully understanding its significance. In this collection, I want to bring back that meaning, to remind people of its origins and what it stands for.
I want this campaign with UNCLE to promote not only my collection but also the message that fashion can be a tool for activism. The flyposting campaign is a perfect fit for this, especially in a city like Paris, where street culture and art are so ingrained in the fabric of the city. It’s not just about selling clothes; it’s about starting conversations. I hope that when people see these posters, they’ll stop, think, and maybe even dig deeper into the story behind the collection.
HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE YOUR WORK SHARED IN PUBLIC SPACES AS OPPOSED TO JUST ONLINE?
First of all, I’m grateful to not have to put the posters up myself. I’ve done it by myself before, putting up posters on the streets of Paris at night. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds—it’s actually a real fight! I remember one of the first times I tried, I went out at 5 a.m., putting up posters all around the city center, only to come back a few hours later and find that most of them had already been taken down. It didn’t even last until the next day! It was frustrating but also kind of funny. My friends were laughing at how I’d put so much effort into it, only to see it all disappear so quickly.
So, to be honest, it feels amazing to finally have a team behind me, doing this properly with UNCLE, and knowing that my work will stay up there longer. It’s a completely different experience to see your art in the real world, not just on a screen.
WE’RE EXCITED TO SEE IT ON THE STREETS! WHY DO YOU THINK FASHION IS SUCH AN EFFECTIVE TOOL FOR WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO ACHIEVE?
Because without saying a word, people can see what you stand for based on what you wear.
HAVE YOU GOT ANY LONG-TERM GOALS FOR ISIS DÜNYA AS A BRAND?
Yes, definitely. One of my biggest long-term goals is to create my own workshops, to have a space where I can share my skills and experiences directly with younger generations, particularly in communities that don’t often get access to these kinds of opportunities.
I’ve already done workshops for different brands like Adidas and Nike, and even in prestigious fashion schools in Paris. But, in the future, I’d love to establish my own independent workshops. I want to create an environment where young people, especially those from marginalised backgrounds, can learn and see that there are many different paths in fashion. When I was 16, I was kicked out of a fashion school because they didn’t see me fitting into their narrow idea of what a student should be. I wasn’t interested in the factory-style education they were providing, but I knew I wanted to create, to make something different.
So, through my own workshops, I hope to show young people that they don’t have to conform to anyone else’s expectations, and that there’s space for everyone in fashion, regardless of where they come from.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE THING ABOUT PARIS?
The diversity. Paris is so rich in different cultures, and that’s what makes it so vibrant. Unlike other cities where communities are more separated, in Paris, we all grow up together. That diversity is a strength, especially when it comes to creativity.
AND FINALLY, WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT PARIS?
There’s a lot of hypocrisy in the fashion industry here. Sometimes brands will collaborate with me because I’m seen as a symbol of diversity or sustainability, but they don’t really care about those values. They just want to look good. It’s frustrating to be used for “greenwashing” or for brands to jump on trends they don’t genuinely believe in.
On May 26th, 2024, the northern streets of Paris witnessed the second chapter in the CONGREGATIONS series, titled ‘Marcher les murs’ or ‘Walking the Walls’. It consisted of a journey along a curated 4km trail that passed through various touchpoints of the Parisian landscape. Throughout this exploration there were five performances from artists individual pieces that took inspirations from the themes of the event – read more on them here.
The day hoped to spark a conversation on the homogenization taking place within districts of Paris that continues to result in the suppression of contemporary art that critiques authoritarian structures behind this privatization. Performative artistic gestures were used throughout the event to disrupt the spaces they happened within temporarily and then inspire collective action moving forward.
Beginning in Square Marmottan, a little green haven amongst the electric scenery of the surrounding area was the first performance from Puer Deorum. They spent time crafting plaques from clay that slowly formed a path that traced the memory of love through a touching piece of prose engraved onto them. This process was thoughtful and allowed time for people to read and take in the messaging as it was being written – a unique way to take in text.
Many were gathered here to watch not only Deorum but also the start of the afternoon. Vegan food was passed round along with zines filled with illustrations and a text by Dita Hashi later to be read aloud. This brought with it a sense of community, the joining of the attendees that would soon begin a touching journey together. This was facilitated by Gribaudiplytas who designed and built a bespoke trolley-like structure that was the core part of the day. It held everything that was needed and used to bring the crowd together, acting as a hub, a beacon for the procession.
Once we set off towards La Chapelle Éric Androa Mindre Kolo began a moving piece of performance art. His body contorted along the streets of Paris as he held firm the flag of the Democratic Republic of Congo whilst using a megaphone to release an unnerving siren to those listening. He used tape to cut off walkways, unafraid to interact with those around him as if to will passivity to stop; using his body as a vessel for the great pain and conflict he needed to portray. Due to the nature of the unignorable act, CONGREGATIONS began to draw in people passing in the street who joined our entourage, mesmerized by what was taking place.
As the group continued on, posters were pulled from the trolley, their designs driving home the themes being explored. In an act of rebellion against negative political agendas, they were pasted onto walls to mark the moment and spark intrigue from people who followed in our footsteps, aptly letting the walk continue even in our absence.
We were next led to an alcove just off the main street, wedged between two venues when Lucie Camous began their reading and performance of ‘Filer Droit’ or ‘Fly Straight’. This took advantage of awkward and disruptive movement alongside a fluctuating tone of voice to contrast with the words spoken that created a disjointed experience only deepening the words spoken. Despite an attempt to move the group along during, the performance persisted, underscoring the resistance to conformity.
Finally, we had a three-part reading from Marie-Julie Chalu, that prompted listeners to think about what our futures could look like. She herself spoke of her fixation on a place for black women to be safe and heard, theirs being a voice that is so often overlooked in our society and of course must be one we continue to uplift. The sentiment of utopias felt like an appropriate ending to our day, as we shared another meal and discussed hope for what could come to be if we continue to bring what was shared today with us into the future.
The day captured the essence of Parisian resistance to conformity, blending intimate readings with rallying performances. These moments of unity and defiance are central to the CONGREGATIONS series, supported by UNCLE as we continue to champion cultural activism.
UNCLE presents Congregations Paris ‘Marcher les murs’ taking place on the 26th of May that will see six performances from artists as we navigate a path around the north of the city. Following the success of Congregations Milan ‘Lingua Lunga’ UNCLE have since been keen to continue working with Ludovica Bulciolu and Brenna Horrox to facilitate another event. This one is based in Paris, exploring the various cultural patterns rooted in the city.
Before the event takes place, we have broken down the different artists that will be performing across the day to give context to any future attendees and shed light on the work the artists have done thus far, exploring their relevance to the themes of the event.
First, we have Éric Androa Mindre Kolo, a visual performance artist that often explores the links between the continent of Africa and Europe through a political lens that draws from historical context. Through this, he combines pillars of spirituality, autobiography and understanding and aims to use the body as a receiver and emotion transmitter.
Next is Marie-Julie Chalu, known for being a cultural creator with a plethora of projects to her name. Some of her passions include the investigation and exploration of music for projects including ‘Archives du R&B français’ and ‘Zouk Vintage’, facilitation of independent media for ‘NOIR CINEMA’ and examining utopias or (afro)diasporic cultures via ‘afropea’.
Puer Deorum is an interdisciplinary artist who uses radical imagination as the grounding factor of their pieces in the hopes of giving context to that which cannot be contextualised. Using abstract methods that are non-linear yet familiar in the hopes that those who engage can perceive this unknown. They often pulls from folk culture, psycho/socio political geographics and the mundane effects of the everyday.
Artist Lucie Camous approaches their work with a sensitivity embodied in intimacy, normality and boundaries in accordance with the delicate issues that surround them. This leads to work that is the intersection of artistic, theoretical and activist views that always culminates with experimentation.
Following this is Gribaudiplytas whose chosen mediums are very physical including welding, sculpture, sewing and installation. Their work has a foundation within landscape and how both the urban and the rural are impacted by the destructive nature of human greed and how that then impacts every day for living things.
Lastly, we have Dita Hashi who predominantly works with word and installation to pull through artistic expression surrounding culture often aided by the moving image as well. She has been tasked with writing a text “reflecting on the entanglement between gentrification, contemporary art, incarceration, language and occupation” for the event.
Attend the event on 26th May at 1pm and find our more at the Congregations Instagram for this and other upcoming projects.
Creative hospitality company Ennismore took advantage of a bold format to takeover both London and Paris for their latest campaign. Their travel and food membership plays with the phrase Disloyalty that promises to help you beat boring when travelling somewhere new.
Horrox has been hotting up the fashion scene with a poster campaign popping up internationally courtesy of UNCLE. Our continued partnership with the androgenous clothing brand seems an opportune moment to home in on the effective and varied methods UNCLE uses in cities worldwide to create campaigns worth talking about.
London is the foundation of UNCLE’s existence; we were borne in the rebellious beginnings of the fly format, it’s our roots. Our mindset for our home market tends to be ‘go big or go home’, using all our format types to create a high frequency and saturated campaign across the city. Whether that be three billboards in a row for a street takeover or a paste up to play with a unique square creative, Horrox took advantage of all this city has to offer.
European markets themselves each carry with them individualistic elements that are iconic in their own rights. Amsterdam always makes for a campaign that transitions to the digital well, being a city so instantly recognisable, our sites work wonders across social channels. Barcelona, a sunny haven where pillars cut through crowds, high foot traffic are always on the cards for those who are displayed here. Ever the crowd pleaser is Berlin, a sought-after mecca for brands that like an edge, our sites have an industrial feel, and this grittiness certainly added a sense of intrigue to the Horrox campaign itself. Milan – one of the world’s fashion capitals – it’s sunny streets and refined site design always lead to a clean looking outcome for campaigns, a favourite of brands going for class. Finally, we have Paris, whose arguably most important feature being the context that comes with it – all things fashion needs to have a presence here. A combination of these cities made a unified stamp across the continent for Horrox and built brand image in alignment with each city’s perspective.
Let’s not forget our overseas cousin America – a beast that brands always want to conquer. The cities Horrox appeared in are all key players in the vast market that makes up the country. Whether the relaxed west side with Los Angeles and San Francsico – where your poster can be backdrop to a beach walk and golden sunset or the red-hot west side that offers a streetside catwalk in fashion hub New York or a fiery addition to Miami’s iconic skyline. Horrox is a brand based in Brooklyn, and the campaign felt at home amongst its streets, UNCLE made sure to emphasize the homecoming with a focus on distribution surrounding the area.
Tokyo needs no introduction; the powerhouse city of the east has an unmistakable feel. Formats here are clean cut and perfected – an apt style that seems to reflect the general feel of the city itself. Due to lack of competition with advertising space, Horrox had no trouble standing out against the brutalist architecture. The striking red was a key colour in eyeline with all onlookers, working perhaps best on the digital screens that offer a distinct look that posters cannot replicate.
The true definition of global includes that of Australia; laid-back and homegrown posters here feel part of the woodwork and have no trouble looking like they belong. Sydney makes for a city that offers a casual edge that capitals tend not to include, this only grounded the Horrox campaign and approachability is important within advertisement. Whereas Melbourne delivers on locations that are unmissable, want to be noticed? Melbourne is the one for you if you want eyes down under.
Every city offers its own opportunities, and if you can align yourself with the pulse of that city you can appeal to its onlookers. Horrox was at home in all markets, reaping the benefits of the cultural markers and standing out amongst the grey.
Horrox is not a brand that exclusively pulls from the past but also the present, with some of its most prominent pieces being collaborations with artists and charities. In continuation of UNCLE’s partnership with Horrox we put a spotlight on one of these collaborators. JV Aranda, an artist based in San Francisco uses a mixture of colour, printing and repetition to make an impact with his graphic designs. His playful graphics prioritise impactful, layered motifs that are reminiscent of a pop art and dadaism which seemed a fitting match for the first collaboration of Horrox as the brand also borrows from the past for its creative direction. We took a spotlight and enquired about how his contemporary techniques and style have developed as he’s grown as a creator.
HOW DID YOU GET INTO ART?
Fortuitous museum visits during my formative years. For instance, in 1998, while on a trip to Los Angeles to celebrate my 16th birthday, I had the good fortune of being introduced to the work of Yayoi Kusama via a retrospective exhibition of her work at LACMA, which was mind-blowing and incredibly influential in a multitude of ways: from her enthusiastic experimentation across different mediums to how her practice overlapped with her mental health, nationality, gender, era, and pure intuitive visual talent. Her work has always served as a wonderful example of the limitlessness of Art as a storytelling device and her resilience and prolific output continues to be an inspiration.
WHY COLLAGE?
Collage was always a medium that just made sense to me since first being introduced to it at school. The materials needed were accessible and the process of destruction, manipulation and reinvention has always felt liberating and cathartic.
Additionally, with the amount of content being generated daily in this day and age, Collage has grown in importance as a method to utilise the world’s growing collective archive, showcasing and re-contextualising imagery that would otherwise be ignored or forgotten.
DESCRIBE YOUR DESIGN PROCESS?
It’s a mix of following my intuition and problem-solving. I’ve always loved being commissioned and receiving a brief to interpret with various constraints to meet. So the design process can vary due to the project at hand, and my favourite experiences have been the ones that allowed me the opportunity to widen my scope and try new things, like working with Horrox, which gave me the chance to use the comic-strip panel format as a structural device and incorporate speech bubbles in my work for the first time.
WHAT IS THE THING YOU LIKE MOST ABOUT BEING AN ARTIST?
I love how artwork can form a life of its own while retaining that psychic link to its creator, who essentially become visually invisible when the work is finished. As a Queer, Person of Colour, creating artwork feels like one of the few realms in which I’m not immediately judged by any of my physical or sociological attributes, though my work is always representative of all of those things purely from being filtered through my vantage point.
TELL US MORE ABOUT THE COLLABORATION WITH HORROX?
Legs somehow found my work out there in the ether and got in touch with her vision for the prints that she had wanted to commission for Horrox. I was enthused after being introduced to her work and learning where she wanted to go conceptually with the prints and was pleasantly surprised to discover the strange parallels we had with one another; Namely that I was an American living in the U.K. at the time and that she was British and living and working in my home state of California.
WHY ARE YOU DRAWN TO USING COMIC STRIPS IN YOUR WORK?
When working with Comics, I’ve primarily been drawn to utilising work from the Golden Age of American comics, which spans from the 1940’s and 50’s, since I not only enjoy the aesthetics of that era but additionally have gotten a kick out of re-contextualising work that was originally found in arguably quite wholesome environments, and reconfiguring the work with more modern narratives that reflect our current realities and collective discourse.
HOW HAS CALIFORNIA AND LONDON INFLUENCED YOUR WORK?
Growing up in California, I was surrounded by pop culture and the grandeur of nature. I was essentially raised by cartoons and theme parks. And I’ve often felt that the hyper-saturated colour palette of my work is very much informed by being a Californian. Living in London was quite a contrast and helped me realize that pursuing the arts was not only valid but important, and it was incredibly inspiring to be in such a global and diverse city, absorbing such a range of stories. My work may be incredibly influenced by California conceptually, but I learned how to become an artist thanks to London.
HOW HAS SAN FRANCISCO HELPED SHAPED YOU AS A DESIGNER?
When Legs got in touch about the commission, I was living in London and when she mentioned she was based in San Francisco at the time and wanted the prints to reflect the city and it’s musical history, specifically during the Jazz age, I was absolutely delighted as a former San Franciscan, previously living there for a number of years in the early 2000’s, back before I even realized I was an Artist and Designer. So, I’d say my time in San Francisco planted a lot of seeds, that still grow to this day. There’s an organized chaos to the city, or rather, a battle between structure and hedonism, that definitely shapes my work.
DOES THE CITY INSPIRE YOU?
Absolutely. Living in San Francisco was my first experience as a young adult with the wonder and perils of embracing spontaneity. I was raised in San Diego, which is very much a car-based city, so it was quite liberating living in San Francisco, which is much more pedestrian friendly. I’ve always been inspired just walking around the city and getting immersed with the different personalities of both the different neighbourhoods and the characters who happen to be around on any given day.
WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR FAVOURITE PLACES THERE?
I’m biased towards the neighbourhoods I previously lived in: the Castro and the Mission, which includes my absolute favourite place in the city, smack dab in the middle of those areas: Mission Dolores Park, which is situated on an incline with a gorgeous view of Downtown San Francisco, and has been the setting of many meditative walks, sunny celebrations and heartfelt conversations with loved ones in the past.
WHAT’S NEXT FOR YOU?
More Collages! Currently, I work as an Editorial illustrator for a variety of clients. Most recently, I’ve been working with the esteemed American automobile magazine, Road & Track, creating collages for a column called the ‘Department of Overthinking’ and I’ve also begun to participate in different art fairs, showcasing all of the different adaptations of my Collage work, in preparation of opening Sinewy Sea Fine Art, which will be a hybrid of an Arts Space, Tea Lounge and Gift Shop, showcasing modern curiosities and storytelling, to be based in San Diego.
Based in Brooklyn, New York fashion brand Horrox are launching their debut collection to a global audience promising to deliver on an informed and cultural array of designs. Horrox marries culture, art, music and collaboration with fashion that culminates in an informed yet edgy drop. This emerging fashion brand seemed a great match for UNCLE to support in their beginnings with a partnership.
Horrox was born of music. From the intrigue of record sleeves and music publications, to clothing synonymous with music subcultures throughout history, it all serves as muse for the core Horrox product. Whether it be the new wave stylings of Talking Heads or punk rock powerhouse The Clash, the brand infuses distinctive eras into its pieces with a modern edge. These aesthetic choices could often misinterpreted as vapid, but instead are rooted in politics, class structure and other poignant moments within the zeitgeist. Horrox revels in research that elevates design beyond the visual and strikes a balance between concept and composition.
The brand’s founder – Riona Horrox – a graduate of the Royal College of Art used Motifs have most commonly been drawn from the ‘77 punk era, alongside elements that borrow and modernise 50s and 60s styles. Shrunken t-shirts and jeans lend themselves well to the inherited seventies influence on the west coast.
As part of the partnership, UNCLE will be continuing to dive deeper into the core of the brand with interviews with collaborators. This is only the beginning. Fashion can be a portal of education for its audience. Horrox is a brand that plays with nostalgia; style can intertwine with who you are and pull you into whichever community you wish to be a part of – let Horrox be yours.
With all eyes on football this month, UNCLE have teamed up with Goal Click on project One Game to celebrate the unity football can bring to communities across the globe. Goal Click are an international football storytelling organisation who specialise in bringing real stories to light via an assortment of mediums. UNCLE have collaborated with Goal Click to show how football can be used as a force for good for people across the globe. We have adorned our poster sites with beautiful photography showcasing extraordinary stories that exhibit the true power of the beautiful game.
Project One Game is bringing visibility to the movement worldwide; Goal Click have provided important stories that range from the USA to Europe. Across UNCLE’s three poster designs we showcase Maria Romanchenko, Fatima Rouina and Samuel Gedeon. We wildposted their respective cities – London, Paris and NYC – with imagery indicative of the countless ways football can fit into the lives of many. Football is the most popular sport in the world, but not every game is played on a pitch, and it is this flexibility that allows the sport to touch so many. The stories told by One Game hope to portray this range and the transformative nature of the game.
Maria Romanchenko is a Ukranian refugee now living in London, she played at a professional level in Odesa, Ukraine. Football has shaped who she is, playing a formative part of her settling into her new home – “Football gave me a lot: friends, endurance, character and determination. This is something that I will never tire of doing. With the help of football, I maintain my physical and spiritual health”.
Fatima Rouina champions the beauty and freedom of street football, she is empowered by the versatility of the game – “Football is the place where I feel myself the most. I love playing on the street. There is freedom to play in the city. Football has this magic of being a sport that brings people together without borders. My friend Sarah was juggling the ball in a typical street of Montmarte area. You just need a ball to play on any type of field”.
Finally, is Samuel Gedeon, a refugee originally from Haiti, and aspiring diplomat, who sought out Rooklyn (RIFA) – a disadvantaged youth charity that provide integration into New York City life through football – “I tried to show how passion for soccer has brought immigrants from different countries together and created a community”.
We orchestrated a visit to their respective sites so they could see the impact that their story can have on the masses – reflecting the very ethos of Goal Click. The project is in partnership with BUILDHOLLYWOOD who have also set up sites exploring UK based communities. Please visit the Goal Click website to learn more about the positive impact they make and to read the full stories of those involved in the One Game project.
