Rising Designer Ka Wa Key on bringing romance back to menswear

[I]t could be argued that romance has been stripped from London menswear. The unstoppable rise of street and skatewear, the eminently sellable bomber jacket and the age of austerity, disenfranchisement and dysfunction, has led the capital’s mainstream designers into a dystopian obsession that manifests itself in technical fabrics, dark tones and straps and caps. Ka Wa Key is part of the resistance.

“I really love the concept of romance,” says Key. “Particularly in Hong Kong, where I grew up, it’s part of everyday life. Even between friends.” This fascination informs a soft masculinity that has appeared in each of the designer’s seasons as far back as his SS16 graduate collection No Asians PLZ, which emphatically called out Grindr users for their openly racist profile taglines.

As much as in everyday life, Key finds romance in everything from Japanese porn to the work of Ryan McGinley, building the emotion into collections that possess the same dreamy euphoria as the photographer’s images of downtown cool-kids on rooftops against multicolour skies or sprinting towards sunsets across open fields, with sparklers streaming in their hands. In keeping with this aesthetic, Key’s SS17 lookbook shows models escaped to the country, in long grass under blue skies, swaddled in the pastel-toned fabrics that Key manufactures in his Hackney studio. McGinley’s subjects are most often naked. If they weren’t, there’s a chance they’d be wearing Ka Wa Key.

Key’s work stands out thematically, but also in its approach to gender and the world’s shifting interpretations of masculinity. “To be honest, I think in 2017 gender is an outdated concept,” he explains. “You don’t need to dress as a strong man to attract someone. You don’t need to categorise fashion for the purpose of selling it to a man or a woman.” For AW17, especially, Key’s combinations of classic, all-male garments – trucker jackets, baggy trousers, cable knits and city-boy shirting – were reinvented with sheer fabrics, lace-like embroidery and pastel colourways. The collection represented a wearable, visionary balance between the demonstrative hyper-masculinity of workwear and the “different kind of beauty” that Key is looking for.

For the collection, Key returned to the dating scene for inspiration. Commentating on the phenomenon of Chinese “twink” guys westernising their looks during the search for white boyfriends via apps, the collection’s classic western workwear silhouettes are overlaid with femininity. “The shapes are quite masculine, but there are feminine colours. Menswear can be quite bold. But I don’t know if that’s relevant to the man I am thinking of. I think my man is quite sensitive and believes in young beauty – in different aesthetics.” The result is a sense of vulnerability that replaces the strongman tropes traditionally associated with the silhouettes he used in the collection, something that once again plays into Key’s vision of everyday romance. “We want to be sensual and romantic, but we can get these elements from everyday life, from everyday clothes. I’m always thinking, ‘How can I treat a cable sweater in a sensual way?’”

After a second collection that finds its premise in the new world of dating apps, Key is ready to embrace technology as an influence, even as something that directly translates into the aesthetic of his brand. “We will never escape technology; it just naturally becomes part of your inspiration. It has changed the gaze of culture, changed how we see the world. It’s relevant to my identity and to my brand identity as well.”

The exterior world of fashion, though, and its temporary fixation with the post-apocalyptic, looks unlikely to influence any of Key’s work. “To be honest, I’m in my own world. I never look at fashion colours or the season’s trend. I just want to create a story for my man.”

This interview originally appeared in Hunger 12, Stand For Something, out now