What Working at Chanel Teaches You About Building a Fashion Brand

Interview with LEANN HUANG

Esteban: To set the foundation, what’s the brief intro on you and the brand?

Leeann: I’m from Los Angeles, born and raised. I studied fashion design at Central Saint Martins in London for both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, then worked for a year in Paris at some big houses. I graduated from my master’s in March 2020 — right at the start of the pandemic — and eventually moved back to LA. I worked here for a while and started my brand in 2022.

In our LA studio we make very fun, colorful, textile-forward clothing, mainly specializing in lenticular analog techniques. We try to make clothes that make people want to have fun and dance — that tap into a childhood sense of joy.

Esteban: Why the move from Paris back to LA?

Leeann: After my bachelor’s I interned at Margiela and Chanel, then went back to London for my master’s. We showed at London Fashion Week, and literally the next week the school had to evacuate. I was stuck in London for months, and it was impossible to secure a job because everyone was getting laid off. When my visa expired, I came back to LA.

It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be there or because I had a plan to start a brand. I got a good job in LA and decided to stay. Also, London during the pandemic felt dystopian. I had a nice apartment with ten friends in the building, so it wasn’t lonely, but overall I didn’t enjoy living there. Coming home to LA felt right — it’s relaxing, I’m near family, and my life is less complicated.

Esteban: You said you hadn’t planned to start a brand. What signs pushed you to actually do it? A lot of people are stuck in that “should I start?” predicament.

Leeann: I kept working on my own things for a long time. My work was popular in London — I won a big award at London Fashion Week before the pandemic — and that momentum kept growing online very organically. For about two years I’d occasionally make one or two pieces and they’d pop off. I slowly started selling small accessories like bags.

At the time I had a tough day job. But I thought: if I can grow to 20,000 followers without trying, what happens if I actually try? I was working my day job and then doing my brand after hours, and it reached a point where I didn’t have the time or energy for both. I left that job and committed to my own thing. It was a natural transition.

Esteban: So you were posting as a student, it resonated, and social grew. You were putting in relatively little effort compared to the response — so being more consistent made the decision easier.

Leeann: Exactly. Once the numbers were there and I’d saved enough money, I could self‑fund without writing a massive business plan or going to investors.

Esteban: Were you living with your family?

Leeann: Yes. That helped a lot!

Esteban: Why do you think your work resonates so much with people?

Leeann: The clothes make people happy. At pop‑ups or any in‑person activation, people naturally gravitate to them — the colors, textures, and the world around the brand. Recently a friend bought a coat, wore it to Copenhagen Fashion Week, and from that one coat I got a lot of traction from her audience. People kept asking, “What’s that coat? It looks so thick and nice.”

Esteban: Which coat was it?

Leeann: An aura‑printed coat from our Autumn/Winter ’25 collection.

Esteban: Do people resonate more with the story and visuals, or with the circular/sustainable philosophy?

Leeann: I think they’re attracted to the clothes first. The story and the sustainability are bonuses — they should be there — but they’re not the reason. Some brands lead with “we’re sustainable, buy us,” or “this is my personal story.” For my business, people are like, “No one else is making fun lenticular clothing. I can get that here.” It’s more product‑ and feature‑driven than marketing‑driven. I want the designs to speak for themselves.

Esteban: Did fashion school and those internships matter in developing your identity as a designer — and by extension your product?

Leeann: Totally. I studied textiles for fashion. CSM was hyper‑creative and open. The mentors helped me take ideas from my head into reality — how to form and edit what I put into the world. The facilities for printing and techniques were foundational for me.

Work experience mattered too. At Chanel I was in the Métiers d’Art — feathers, flowers by hand, embroidery, fabric manipulation, surface design. The organization was like a hard, precise machine in the best way. Everyone had a role; people went home on time — 6 p.m., sometimes noon on Fridays — and yet the job was very creative. Even as an intern I had at least ten different textile designs in a show because there are so many design elements. I saw how proposals move into production — not automated, but systematized and efficient.

At Margiela I worked on the Artisanal (couture) collection. The team is tiny, very hands‑on, late nights until 2 a.m. and weekends. You could propose anything to John Galliano and he’d say, “Let’s do it,” and then be very hands‑on. He’d demonstrate how to put a collection together. He once cut a look of mine I loved and explained exactly why. I understood — and honestly he didn’t need to explain because he’s the boss — but he wanted us to learn how to edit to make the story more effective. He’s a master of storytelling and very protective of his energy. That matters, even when the hours are crazy.

Esteban: I want to focus on two topics because there’s so much to learn: (1) creativity under constraints; (2) cohesion and focused storytelling. How have you applied those?

Leeann: Constraints are the nature of business. The more I work, the more I learn. You can see my collections getting edited down — more commercial and accessible to wear, without losing the specialness. There are people who love flashy, elaborate clothes, but day‑to‑day most people don’t wear that. And elaborate is expensive and hard to wear.

I like making clothing that makes people take a second look to understand what they’re seeing — that element is important — but it still has to be comfortable and accessible. That’s intentional product design: balancing creativity and wearability.

Esteban: How does your process look conceptually and practically? Let’s start with concept.

Leeann: I’m grounded in reality from the start — more than many peers at school. People used to say, “That’s Leeann; she’s extremely practical.”

Esteban: Are your parents engineers or scientists?

Leeann: Not at all. My mom is a ballroom dancer and my dad sells paper — or, sold paper so he could pursue his passions. He travels the world and is rarely home. He’s a fun, creative person. My parents are practical so they can pursue their passions. My mom makes all her costumes because ballroom costumes have a crazy upcharge.

I love fun and fantasy, but I’m not impractical. I’ll get excited about an idea, then spend two days figuring out the mechanics — how it functions, how to make it real. I’m hands‑on. Taking something apart to see how it works is exciting. Turning an abstract idea into reality is more exciting than the idea itself. That’s why my clothes often have a technical idea at their core.

I’m known for lenticular pieces. In my master’s, I was inspired by childhood TV — Sailor Moon, Totally Spies — and the transformation from everyday person to superhero. The flashy colors and wild outfits. I wanted that feeling in textiles — without electronics or battery packs. No one wants to wear wiring unless it’s a very specific event.

I researched techniques not explored much in fashion and landed on lenticular printing. My dad collects tons of lenticular souvenirs and postcards, so the material language was around me — but they’re rigid and hard. For fashion, they’d need to be soft and malleable. I found a toy company in Torrance that makes pencil cases and posters. An older man there had a massive factory and printing press; he taught me how the process works and what materials we could print on.

From there I explored materials and found a way to print on a softer substrate — thermoplastic polyurethane (TPU) instead of the industry‑standard PVC. TPU is more rubbery, soft, and flexible — like raincoat material. The first print I made was a color‑changing cheetah. Flat, it looked like a cool color‑changing poster; on the body, because it’s not flat and it moves, it looked wild in every color.

I kept expanding the technique. Lenticular is essentially interlacing multiple images so they shift. I took that idea into T‑shirts, coats, and accessories. With TPU it’s machine‑washable and truly wearable. Now, if I’m inspired by imagery, I can build a print and apply it — a shirt, a handbag, whatever fits. I have a print‑heavy mindset, so the process repeats: imagery → right technique → product.

Esteban: So it starts with a crazy, exciting idea and you filter it through practicality: function, wearability, technique/fabric development — finding the right technique for the filtered idea.

Leeann: Exactly.

Esteban: Do you redo that process every collection, or did it give you a foundation you now build on?

Leeann: Both. We use it when introducing new techniques, and we also build. Right now our pleated pieces are the most popular. Think of our T‑shirts or fully lenticular coats as micro‑scale effects; the pleats are like zooming the print way in and making it macro. We pleat the printed fabric so when you move, the pleats themselves change color — an even more analog version of what we do.

Every collection I ask, “How else can we translate this idea across different fabrications?” I still include more traditional techniques — screen printing, sublimation, beading, embroidery — depending on the collection. Typically I start with visuals: color palette, imagery I want to play with, and I expand from there. The thinking process is consistent, even if the visuals change. Because I’ve done it many times, it’s a mental and product foundation that each collection builds on.

Esteban: Cohesion and storytelling — the Margiela lesson of editing. How do you apply that? Is it narrowing products?

Leeann: The issue I face is having a million ideas. That’s not effective. At Margiela and during my master’s I learned to edit and tell a story. I picture who I’m designing for: what kind of woman would actually wear it? Often I imagine my mom when I was a kid, or a very fabulous woman walking down the street. Would she wear this piece? Is the shape flattering and practical over time? That filter pushes me toward clean shapes and silhouettes we already know work. Then I “puzzle‑piece” everything together.

Esteban: So a big lesson is: know who you’re designing for.

Leeann: Yes. Many designers struggle with that. And if you’re designing for yourself and your friends — which is valid — can they afford it? That matters.

Esteban: What other considerations do you ask yourself — the practical ones many designers don’t?

Leeann: Wearability. Early on I made a lot of impractical pieces — great for magazine loans and editorial, but realistically not something people buy. Great for PR, terrible for business. Stylists gravitate to one set of pieces; buyers gravitate to the opposite. Knowing that split is important.

Now I separate outlets. I still love making fantastical things, but that lives in custom: wedding dresses, red‑carpet pieces, chain‑link and beaded materials for private clients. Ready‑to‑wear is practical and can be produced in small or larger runs based on demand.

Esteban: If you had to start again and could only choose one — RTW or artistic — which first?

Leeann: I’m glad I started with the artistic and figured out RTW later. When I was younger I wanted to be in the luxury couture world. Over time I dress for comfort more, so I think about that more now. It’s not “getting old and boring” — you can still make “boring” exciting — it’s a shift in priorities. The fantasy still lives, but not always inside the garment.

These days I put more fantasy into storytelling — photoshoots, video, installations. That’s where the big creative world lives, while the products are condensed and refined. For example, we make a keychain toy — kind of Polly Pocket‑like — you can wear all the time. It’s playful, nostalgic, and different from fashion. Our upcoming pop‑ups will have bigger builds and installations. Channeling creativity into communication and space is still art. Not everything has to be in the clothes.

It’s also more practical and sustainable. Producing elaborate eveningwear that only one person wears can be wasteful: multiple fittings, remaking dresses, expensive product testing. As a small business, that became wildly wasteful. It makes more sense to refine the shapes we have, make them great so we don’t keep re‑testing, and keep a clean product line — while putting the “fantasy” into experiences.

Esteban: So: start with a big idea, then learn to ground it by manipulating the elements — design, clothes, story, art — instead of jumping from one crazy idea to another single garment over and over.

Leeann: Exactly. A lot of designers burn out trying to keep up with constant novelty. I’m trying to keep things simple in concept — which is hard in practice — and consistent.

Right now I’m having my assistants do more architectural floor plans than fashion sketches. One of my main assistants loves big builds and furniture; she does amazing handcrafted cushions and furniture. We’re putting that skill to work on a crazy room we’re building in Tokyo, and another in Osaka. Because of this, we’ve built a portfolio of installations around the world and for bigger companies. Now stores ask, “If we buy your collection, can you build something fun in our space?” That’s a creative push I enjoy, not just “fashion, fashion, fashion.”

Esteban: Opportunities show up when you’re consistent in a direction.

Leeann: Exactly.

Esteban: Switching lanes: are you stronger in wholesale or direct‑to‑consumer?

Leeann: Almost 80% direct‑to‑consumer, 20% wholesale — and wholesale is growing. Last season we had about six accounts; next season we’ll have around twenty. We joined a larger showroom, which helped. Direct‑to‑consumer is more reliable and profitable for a small business. I also get to interact directly with customers, which shapes the product. People will say, “I love this shoe, but this part digs into my heel,” or “this part feels weird.” That direct feedback is different than filtered notes from a buyer.

Esteban: You have to know who you’re designing for. Without communication, you’re guessing.

Leeann: Exactly. I can’t make whatever for nobody. Some designers can put anything out and someone will buy it — that’s rare and inconsistent. I want to grow my team and pay people well. To do that, the business has to grow consistently.

Esteban: Biggest challenge right now — creative, production, marketing?

Leeann: Recently we figured out marketing, which is great. Production is basically figured out too. The challenge is getting it off the ground and funding it while keeping it on track. We’re 100% self‑funded, which I like, but growth means bigger upfront costs. Next season we have to deliver to about twenty stores. You don’t get paid until delivery, so all the money has to be fronted. I’ll be broke for the next three months while also traveling. I’m looking at loans to finance production because this run is three times bigger than before. We’re looking at totals over a thousand units for the next season. We have a plan; it’s just a lot.

Esteban: Why do wholesale at all right now? Why not focus on DTC and keep it simple?

Leeann: It’s important to have multiple channels. Some people love interacting with me directly online; others only buy from stores. They love curation and the in‑store experience. Small boutiques, especially, have survived by serving their specific local customer. Next season we’ll be in over twelve countries — a platform we’ve never had. Our clothes are impactful online, and our social numbers are strong, but in‑person matters because clothing is real and practical. People need to see and feel it.

Having product in stores I love is a powerful co‑sign. It helps people give us a chance — especially those who might not have discovered us online. It also reaches older audiences, who, weirdly enough, buy the most from us. In Japan, for example, that older demographic is key — and they don’t buy online. They want to try things on. With our materials, people assume rigidity; in person they’re surprised by how soft everything is. They learn it’s machine‑washable and easy to wear. You don’t get that until you touch it.

Esteban: That makes sense. Thanks for sharing Leann!

Leeann: Youre welcome! Thanks for having me on!