Designer Spotlight | Lilia Yip

January 10, 2012 By: May 967 Views

Lilia Yip

“My clothes have a human story.”

This is how designer Lilia Yip describes the idea behind her self-named clothing brand, Lilia Yip. Born in Singapore but now based in Brighton in the UK, the 33-year old Lilia launched her label in 2009, just one year after getting her MA Fashion in Womenswear from London’s Royal College of Art. To date, Lilia has produced eight collections for her brand, all of which are showcased on her website, www.liliayip.com. I caught up with her via email right after she participated as a guest designer at a recent fashion event organized by the British Council in Manila.


You are quite social media-savvy – you have Facebook pages for your brand, your indie band morphy and you still find time to blog and compose music. How does having a social media presence help you as a designer?

I believe most people would like to know where their clothes come from, and if they find a designer that they connect with, they will feel an emotional connection with the clothes as well. Social media is a way to make that connection. And this connection would hopefully not only lead them owning one of the garments but also extend its life because they would be less inclined to throw away something they’re emotionally attached to. Through my work, I try to promote this approach to consuming fashion, one that is different and more considered.

Lilia at work


Does your music influence your design work and vice versa?

Not directly but I always seem to have a new song that matches a new collection. I’ve been singing since I was three years old, even before I could dress myself. However, I think my fashion choices were really more influenced by films, which I guess still has some connection with music.


Among the eight clothing collections you’ve released so far, which one is your favorite and why?

I’d have to say it’s the most recent one called SING. I’m always evolving and learning as a designer and I think this particular one best reflects who and where I am now. SING is predominantly monochromatic and uses black and white photography on the garments themselves. The collection is mostly inspired by Hong Kong actor Stephen Chow who infused his surreal comedy films from the 1990s with a distinctive form of visual and verbal comedy. In a similar way, the SING collection reflects my own brand of surreal humor and wordplay.

On your website, it says there that you are “always ready to challenge pre-conceived notions of what fashion should be.” Can you explain this further?

I think that a large part of the fashion industry today is about power play – the power of money and influence dictates a fashion culture where designers are as disposable as the clothes they create. So you see all these “new” things presented each season only to be forgotten by the next one. I consider myself a design activist, what I try to do with my work is to strip fashion of its pretensions. I want to use fashion to get to the root of what makes us smile, makes us uncomfortable, what takes our breath away and ultimately, what makes us human.


Would you say your designs have an obvious Asian influence? Among today’s Asian designers, is there anyone that has caught your eye?

I don’t really see my designs as very Asian but my work is influenced by an awareness of having an Asian body and my affinity for Eastern beliefs, traditional dress and culture. Perhaps that’s why it seems to have an Asian touch. One Asian designer I like most now is Mason Jung, who is also a graduate of the Royal College of Art and from Seoul, Korea.

Your design philosophy places a strong emphasis on eco-friendly practices and sustainability. Was this a conscious decision from the very beginning of your career?

I prefer to use the word “ethical” instead of “eco-sustainability” because the issues relating to fashion go beyond the scope of sourcing sustainable materials. We also need to consider the people who are involved in the manufacture of such materials – from the farmers who plant the raw materials to the seamstresses who sew our garments.

The turning point for me came when I realized that cotton farmers in India were taking their lives because they couldn’t afford to compete with American cotton companies who were subsidized by their governments. I asked myself whether I wanted my clothes to be linked to sadness, poverty and even death. Once you become aware of the human and environmental costs that conventional fashion entails in the world, there is really no turning back.