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The Greatest #25 The Nostalgia Essay // Interview : Colm Dillane

The Nostalgia Issue

 The Nostalgia Essay

A deep smell of cedar and spruce, a long and slim figure, a light blue football jersey. I was staring at one of the closest bonds I’d have without knowing it yet. I clearly remember what was still
a stranger to me, sitting alone in a familiar room playing video games. With his back towards me, I indulged in his slender figure. If I recall that moment, that instant before everything started for better and worse, I smile. Some bonds are forever, no matter how strong you fight to ward them off, they stubbornly stay there, collecting all the dust of the years. I wonder if it’s possible to recognise them immediately and want to believe it is, although it’s impossible to explain how.

A white paper with tiny grey lines, folded in two columns. A task to describe in words what your future will be and a small drawing of it. I was seven and knew it: a house with a small garden, a dog, a collection of shoes, and many words to write daily. I was seven and knew what it would’ve been like - at least three out of four. As a kid, you have the power of dreaming, an unceasing strength in failing, and all the paths in front of you. That memory is vibrantly clear in my mind, and it’s my rescue when I feel that I don’t know anymore what it’ll be like.

A feeling of freedom, lightness, and that tricky sensation of not knowing what day it is. A backpack half full, tiny beads of sweat, and the friend of a lifetime next to you. You’re on the other side of the world, without any duty. Everything around you is new, the smell of fried rice mixed with the stagnant air of a chaotic city is exciting. Days go by, made with flights, tastes, people you’ll probably never meet again, and a whole new universe. You know that you’ll keep everything with you forever. A feeling of warmness is the soundtrack to the journey, you’re tired, but you keep going because you know that’s the time and place you’ll dream of going back to, once home.

A deep voice interrupted by small clouds of smoke and sips of white wine. The story of a past time you never lived, but you’re craving for feelings. A sparkling masquerade party, with a young dancer, a loud group playing, and a charming house by the sea. It was winter and the goosebumps were restored by tenderness and dances. Through the story a love was born, a friendship ended and a few glasses were broken. While words descri- bed a mesmerising atmosphere from decades ago, my mind blows through images of so- mething I’ve never seen but made mine. That vibration of craziness bonds me to the idea that you can look back, constructing a future of unexpected possibilities.

A tiny hand is looking for yours. Silky skin and eyes closed. It’s unbelievable to think that all of us were like that baby once. That hand is so strong, with such long fingers that seem to fight for gripping yours. It’s scary, yet worthwhile to feel that she probably likes you. The lightness of that body makes you think that everything can happen, so you believe you need to be aware of every single movement, while you’re just welcoming someone here with us. It’s certainly exciting to think that she has everything to construct, and you too: a new possibility to start again becomes concre- te. A beautiful illusion you can grab, while letting go of that tiny hand.

The past is wistful, just a common misconception. What stands behind us, what we left, what ended, what left us is just ruins constructing a beautiful historical scenario of us. We can always look back to it, we can always construct other ruins and we can always destroy them. What we should never do is forget the road we travelled to arrive here, the same road that leads us to go on. In the middle of a journey, it’s possible to have the impulse of sadly basking in what was, refusing how it could be again or be better. Nostalgia is the most common feeling ever, more than love, more than sadness, more than excitement. It bonds us together tightly since we all have a heritage, a be- autiful field of ruins that we should nurture with pride, to lay gentle foundations for what’ll come.

Nostalgia is for dreamers.


COLM DILLANE // KIDSUPER

I’d like to start with the name KidSuper and a statement of yours: ‘You have to make the best out of it’. They make you sound as if you’d never really been afraid of any- thing. Probably, it’s also because you do so many things with an enthusiastic attitude. Were you already so mul- ti-disciplinary and brave as a kid?

Maybe, more as a kid. I think that I was always very brave and fearless. From the age of three to twelve, I moved seven times throughout different states and countries. So, I had this idea that I wasn’t in a certain space for a long time, hence I had to make the most of it. That thing created this sense of urgency to do things. Plus, in the grand scheme of things, we don’t know how many lives we have, but I didn’t know how many days I was going to have in these different places. My parents are kind of crazy people. They were very strict on me for school, sports, and the arts, but not on manners and personality. So, I was very much a kind of crazy kid, but I’d also score very high on tests. I moved back to New York City, where I was born, when I was twelve and this is when KidSuper started. The city where I lived before was Beloit in Wisconsin, in the middle of America, where you only shop at Walmart for everything. So, all this fashion thing wasn’t a part of my childhood, but when I went to New York, I discovered a new world made of stores, streetwear, and brands I’d never seen before. For instance, I found out that if you wore the same pair of shoes every day in school, people would comment. I thought it was weird because I was from Wisconsin, where not only did people wear the same shoes every day, but the same outfit. Since I was very good at art, I started with that skill. The good thing about New York is that everybody is always doing some- thing, so I said to myself: ‘What if I paint on T-shirts?’. And that’s kind of how it started. What was cool about it was that, through those T-shirts, I started meeting new people. I’d just moved there, so I didn’t have a lot of friends, and I realised how much this small thing was introducing me to new people, creating a community that was everything I wanted.

Quite a D.I.Y. attitude, isn’t it?

I think that I’m too much the D.I.Y. thing (Laughs, E.D.). I’m at a point now where I have to expand and rely on other people, and I’m really bad at it because when I started I did so many things completely alone. Leading other people, trusting them, and delegating is not my strongest skill. I truly see myself as ‘The Adventure of Tom Sawye’: there’s a famous part where he has to paint a white fence and convinces all the kids in the neighborhood that it’s a fun and cool thing to do, and they all paint with him. Well, I can do that. I can convince everyone to come and do things, but what I’m bad at is picking the right person to whom I’m giving a project, trusting that person to do it, and so on.

I’d like to know more about the KidSuper Factory you’re opening in Brooklyn. Referring to the concept of ‘com- munity’, talking about people, what’s your ambition with that?

Everything I’m doing is an idea I had maybe ten years ago. It’s kind of crazy that all my silly ideas are taken seriously now (Laughs, E.D.). My factory has a screen-printing shop, a gallery, two recording studios, a podcast studio, a storefront, an art studio, and - if all goes well - it’ll also have a mini soccer field on the roof. I’ve always dreamed of having this big factory thing, where all my friends can come and I can make everything happen in Willy Wonka style. So, that’s my ambition with it. What’s important to me is magic. In the old building I had, I used to sleep there every day, I let people sleep there, there were like seven people in the building all working and sleeping together, collaborating, talking, and staying up all night. It was magical. My strug- gle is how to capture that energy without being there 24/7. What if I open a new one in Los Angeles, Japan, or wherev- er I want to do it? I’m working on that magic a lot because if it becomes corporate, it sounds like you have rules and then I suddenly become the corporate company I didn’t want to be! (Screams, E.D.).

It’s fascinating how in the past, before the internet and social media era, many stores played a key role in being the centre of something, or just a place where you can meet up and spend time. You remind me of Elio Fiorucci somehow, a volcano of creativity dedicated to people, places, and dialogues between creative fields. In 2024, could a store be again a place to create a community?

Everybody said that I didn’t need a store and it would’ve been enough to just do e-commerce. I mean, how many brands of my size have physical stores? Very few, but I need a store, I need people to come, I need to meet those people, and for them to collaborate and work in this place. I want 100% physical places. I want every KidSuper store to have a bedroom in it! How cool would it be for me to sleep in the store every time I go? It doesn’t have to be a big room; a pod would be enough. I wish I was doing it in the 60’s, that would’ve been fun and so much freedom (Laughs, E.D.).

You truly believe in the power of people, and you keep on creating networks of creatives. At the same time,
it seems like in most of your works there’s a common background, that’s the city. Does the city unify people for you?

New York gives you the feeling that all the people there are fighting for something to happen in their lives, and they chose that city because of the energy it gives. All those people are so different because of their backgrounds, roots, and ambitions, but they’re all New Yorkers. This is what I was trying to capture with my videos, my communities, my clothing. Some people are saying that we aren’t in the New York City Renaissance anymore, and some people are going away because it’s too expensive, but I’m still trying to make it feel that way. I also love this idea that everyone coming to New York is hustling and bustling to make it, it’s inspiring. Whatever you want to be, it’s possible in New York, where there’s an amazing ability to dream, meet people, and have access to anything at your fingertips. I try to capture that energy in the KidSuper world.

So, do you feel nostalgic for this New York Renaissance, or, since you still feel it and are trying to capture that energy, is it more like nostalgia for non-stop dreaming?

I have my nostalgia for this New York City and the energy people talk about. I believe my nostalgia, related to me as a child, is that freedom I used to have both mentally and physically, not that I don’t have it now, but it’s different. Overall, I’d say that what people describe as ‘kid mentality’ is just the best mentality! What other people describe as a ‘child’s eye’ is just looking at the world with wonder and possibilities. The greatest freedom to take risks, because you haven’t learnt to be afraid of them in your life, together with not taking things too seriously, but with a sense of humour. What’s better than that?

You’re definitely the face of your brand and, physically speaking, its protagonist. It seems like there’s a sort of urgency of being the role player of your screenplay. Isn’t it tough to create and interpret something?

When I started, I didn’t have another protagonist or the budget to do it, so I made myself the character because I knew that I could rely on myself. It’s funny now, because if I post on Instagram a celebrity or myself, I do better for engagement, likes, and all those kinds of stuff. I’d say it was my only option, but I also remember thinking that if my brand is determined by other people wearing it and making it cool, you’re giving them a lot of power, but if I’m wearing and making it cool, then I have the power. That was my reason, it wasn’t honestly that masterplan. I also invented this all-world, so if it falls on my terms I’m fine with it. This is another reason why I’m bad at trusting others because if it falls on their terms, it’d be something taught to me since I gave it my whole life.

Your SS24 show, ‘How to Find an Idea’, truly made me reflect on different things related to the current times, such as creativity, struggle, the courage to be happy, and much more. I believe we’re living in a moment where ideas are tricky to manage and follow up to the end, due to a continuous stream of information and a ‘scrolling ’ level of attention. How do you cope with that?

I didn’t do that show because I thought it was going to be well-received or accepted, I wasn’t even thinking about
the audience at all. I thought it was a creative mountain I’d have to climb. It was very personal, and it felt like running a marathon. It was my goal, and no one understood why I was doing this: it was financially irresponsible, because it was very expensive compared to other fashion shows. It was more like a theatrical piece, and the fashion field didn’t get it. I put my whole heart and effort into that show, and not that many people sought it, because they’re in the scrolling world and that art piece is not really about scrolling, since you have to give it its time. So yes, I didn’t care about it: am I going to base my life on TikTok? I didn’t want this KidSu- per thing to go viral.

How hard was it to construct this fashion show?

I wrote it, I designed the sets, I made all the clothes, not one other person designed one single outfit of it, I acted in it, I cast it, I had to memorise all the lines I wrote, and I edited the video. There wasn’t a single decision that someone else made. That show is made of seven sets and each one is a fashion show in itself, so I’ve done seven fashion shows in one, which is crazy. I was so drained I had to sleep for a week, it was difficult and I felt underrated.

For what it counts, to me, it was just perfect, and I’d love to see it planned for a worldwide theatre tour.

It needs to be said, and it deserves to be described like that. It’s a full-circle play, it’s magical. But since we’re living in
a TikTok scroll generation, where people don’t care that much about those art forms, it’s probably too much.

Can you tell me something you’d extract from ‘How to Find an Idea’ that better describes it?

The thing that represents the story the most is the analogy with the burning house. When I started planning it, I was questioning myself what this script would be about, and I came up with this thing of going into my brain searching for ideas. So, I asked myself where my best ideas come from and I realised that, if I push myself into places where I had to come up with an idea and must execute that, usually that’s more inspirational than me sitting around pondering. So, I imagined this analogy: put myself in the fire, so that I must react because I can’t just stand there.

It’s funny because I experienced that, and I realised how much that situation put my feet on the ground and did a kind of reality check. Your final speech put even more focus on the meaning of that analogy.

That ending speech was so nerve-wracking to give. I was in front of two thousand people wondering what they just saw, since - honestly - it wasn’t a fashion show. Plus, I was supposed to have four rehearsals before, but I had just one where things went wrong and then the curtains were open. It wasn’t that successful, since nobody talked about it that much. However, fashion shows come and go anyway. Besides this one truly came from my heart, so the more we talk about it, the more it can inspire me and other people to do those things.

It’s tough to describe your work. On one hand, I’d say you’re an outsider, while on the other I’d say you had a plan, a strategy to be inside the system. So probably, you’re kind of out of the box inside the box of the system. You show people how to destroy that box every single time, building a new one and destroying it again and again. So, who’s KidSuper?

I always say we must be crazy and outside the box, but also perform at the highest level in the box. You must be able to touch both worlds. However, I never thought that I was going to be accepted in the box, I thought that I’d have just kept on doing unofficial Paris Fashion Week shows, and it was fine. When you’re from New York and streetwear, this Parisian fashion world seems the most inaccessible thing ever. It feels so elite, snobby, pretentious, and so not looking at you. Now that I’m accepted, I feel it’s a little strange. What I truly like is that they accepted me for what I am: they want me to be crazy, they want me to do wild things. Plus, I realise that the people I met, the ones that’re really in that fashion Parisian thing are outside-of-the-box thinkers! That was inspiring and cool to realise. Many things weren’t in the plan, not because I didn’t want them to happen, but because I didn’t think it was possible. Taking every opportunity, being open, keep knocking on doors, and if they’re not open, going around, that’s me. I think my perspective on life hasn’t changed, I’m still free and fun, I’m still optimistic and enthusiastic, and things still make me excited. Behind the scenes, I’m working on so many projects, and it’s fun and exciting because my opportunities are skyrocketing. If I keep this, I think KidSuper will still be cool, that’s another thing with streetwear brands, they fall and that’s when you get a new creative director (Laughs, E.D.).