Doo Ri’s Craft of Design

Photo by Lee Clower

For a designer who’s only been working on her own collection for the past two years, Doo Ri is making quite a name for herself. Along with a long list of glowing reviews by the top fashion publications, a Barney’s buyer paid her the ultimate compliment; she cited Doo Ri in the same breath as Yohji Yamamoto and Rei Kawakubo, two of fashion’s greatest avant-garde.

Having designed for Geoffrey Beene for six years, his influence is subtly evident in her work—such as the innovative use of materials—but Doo Ri’s vision is her own. Her design signature is movement; in Doo Ri’s choice of cuts and fabrics, her clothes seem to come alive when the body moves. Like a well-choreographed dance, there is a controlled drama to her aesthetic—a high-necked, somber sheath is transformed into a sultry dress by a dip in the back that reveals a swath of bare skin. A dynamic tension between her minimal design palette, pushed by her dramatic and often lush details, give her clothes a depth that consistently surprise and delight.

I think when so much is mass-produced, people crave a sense of something personal.

When we caught up with Doo Ri at her design studio, we found a designer keenly aware of her discipline, and one who sincerely cares about moving her profession, not just her career, forward.

Theme: How would you describe your style?
Doo Ri: I think it’s very difficult to say until you have a true understanding of the scope of your work. I’ve only shown four times now. It’s been two years basically.
I think about Mr. Beene and how he’s remembered in history, and he made his mark in the late ’80s early ’90s with these extraordinary collections. But if you look at what he did in the ’60s—the inception of the greatness to come was there but it took him from the ’60s to get to the highpoint in his career—I’m reminded that it takes time to understand your design language. When I design for ten years, and when I really have a full understanding of my vocabulary, I’ll know how to describe my style. Fashion, like anything, is a specific language you speak, there are certain cuts and lines that I’m always drawn toward, and that will dictate what I’m about.

So you feel like you’re just getting started.
Oh yeah, without a doubt. I know in terms of press, there’s a lot of interest in what I’m doing right now, but I try not to be aware of that. It’s so much nicer not to have any expectations.

Portrait by Dylan Griffin

It’s not so easy to define what your style is, but tell us more about the lines and cuts you get inspired by.
It’s mostly drape, for instance, it’s how the fabric moves around the body. This side of it [points to a dress in her new 2005 Fall collection] billows up, and it all cascades down [the back]. This has been my signature. I don’t like darts. You look at Alexander McQueen’s jackets and they’re completely fitted. You’ve got seams up every which way. But that’s his technique and that’s what he’s very good at. I’m the antithesis of that; I like to eliminate all lines as much as possible. That’s why I like jersey so much, because it allows me the freedom to move around the body without using strict lines.

Your fascination with drape and with jersey, was that influenced by your work with Geoffrey Beene?
The inklings were there before I started working with Mr. Beene. I’ve always been drawn to Claire McCardell. My senior thesis at Parsons was inspired by the Claire McCardell diaper dress. This top moves around the body and wraps. It has an organic feel, it has no seams but all this billowing fabric. That was always there. With Mr. Beene, the way he uses jersey is very tailored, rigid, close to the body and tight. Now I’m discovering my own way, which is to move away from the body, which I absolutely love, because it’s more freeing.

What influences you in your design?
Everything influences me—some influences stay with me, like Martha Graham, creating within a jersey tube, others are everyday things like seeing a woman slouching on the subway and her sweater creates interesting gathers. I am always drawn towards movement; the sway of a skirt or the break of a pant.

Why do you think people appreciate your work?
I think when so much is mass-produced, people crave a sense of something personal. It’s a long process, from inspiration to the actual product hitting shelves.

Photo by Lee Clower

Do you see any new fashion movements coming along?
Right now, I think everyone is sort of lost, I really do. When nothing is new, everything becomes retro. I can’t stand retro. I think it’s really important to know your history, to know your designers so that if you are going in a direction where you’re designing a specific way, you should know why it’s going that way and how you can make it modern. To advance fashion is very important to me and it doesn’t happen with one collection. It happens over time. Fashion reflects what’s happening in society.

As it should.
Yeah, there’s this word, theory…zeitgeist. The theory goes that creative people are naturally receptors to what’s happening in the world. These are confusing times, so fashion tends to be confused.
The last great movement was the Deconstruction movement headed by Martin Margiela and Ann Demeulemeester. It didn’t happen just in fashion. I don’t evoke political messages in my designs. Design to me is about the language of form, lines, and color. It’s very personal. It’s a very quiet moment. It’s very methodical and it’s very controlled. I think it’s also very meditative. I really do. People have this image of fashion as very frenetic and fabulous. It’s so not that.

It’s a craft?
It is a craft. It’s definitely not an art statement: It’s not a political statement. The process itself is very artistic, and I love that about it, but ultimately, it’s a craft, and a business.