Jessica Kayll looks exactly like the kind of woman you think designing a silk robe. She made up effortlessly, with her face belonging to a portrait of John Singer Sargent. The walls of her New York studio are hung with watercolor sketches, pantone chips, suppressed plants and old world interiors. A greenhouse of senses. The table was packed with brushes, pigment tubes and occasional tea cups, paintings of flowers and fabric scraps. Orchid and eucalyptus trails from corners such as punctuation. There is no showroom polishing pretend.
In 2020, the British-born designer launched her brand of the same name in London, wearing a dozen silk kimono robes with outlines floating between clothes and artifacts. The prints are Kayll’s own, carefully painted in her studio and then digitally printed on silk using azo-free dye. They are technically measure-style outfits, but not the kind that flies over top tulums and dies on New Year’s Eve.
“I don’t think they are vacationers,” Kyle politely corrected the observer. Over the past five years, the collection has expanded into tops, pants, gowns and swimsuits. However, Kyle’s spirit remains the same: print is always the focus. Magnolia blossoms spread over the orange silk of sunset, like applying them directly to the body. Crimson red and coral explode against black background on collar back. Her blue and white patterned kimono is reminiscent of Delftware on vacation – compositionally, effectively relaxing. Liquid, never soft. Nothing is fancy. Everything is intentional and doesn’t feel like fashion, not an illustrated diary of garden fantasy. “When you make these long, silk, gorgeous robes, there’s a great opportunity to do beautiful surface designs on the product,” she said. “They’re very, very easy to wear and versatile.
Before bringing his brand to the world, Kayll was a textile designer for high-end fashion houses, with no shortage of grand grand classes – the biggest trailblazers like Alexander McQueen and John Galliano. The troubles that those experienced were not drama, but discipline: the time and care of every embroidery detail, every print and every piece cut. “Instead of making clothes for fast sales, rather than coming up with the concept of design as a creative art form; loving, labor-intensive,” she explained.
Kayll talks to a skilled man who has spent his whole life observing beauty and learning how to refine it. She is low-key, but never detached. Her tone is considered but not rehearsed, and the painter may express mixed colors rather than trying to sell you art, just explaining what she did and why. Due to years of trust, if the work is good enough, there will be no haste, no self-sponsorship, only a thoughtful, intentional clarity. She didn’t want to impress when she talked about her craft. She is explaining a belief system. “Culture fluctuates like a pendulum,” she said. “But we have never seen it so far.
Her first production partner was a carbon-neutral studio in east London, which took months to find. Kayll knew she wanted the facility to be hyper-local for easy access while production was in progress – she was used to her past roles. But with a factory trip after the next revealing unhygienic and immoral working conditions, she begins to lose hope. Kayll already knows her profit margins will be low, but was shocked to find that even in London, designers are doing so poorly for production. It’s not like her trip to McQueen’s Como. “I was shocked how bad some conditions are,” she said. “You wouldn’t expect it to be in the UK, but the facilities are cluttered, crowded, steaming fabrics are full of safety hazards. And no one seems to be ashamed of it.
The factory she finally chose operates at renewable energy prices, above London’s living wages and redecorates fabric waste into a utilitarian second life. This is not sexy. Not cheap. But it’s clean and allows Kyle to sleep at night. “I’m not willing to create a brand that I think has a negative impact on the world.” This clarity has always been her compass, but she is not naive about the environment she operates. Her business model is designed very slowly.
Six weeks later, Kayll found her first retail account on Splash Paris at the end of Couture Fashion Week. Now, boutiques in London, Zurich, Amsterdam, Paris and New York now carry the brand – but her footprint remains small. Kayll moved to New York in the second half of 2024, holding a more permanent flag after a successful Nolita pop-up, herself and three freelancers exposed. It has nothing to do with the squandering American conquest. It’s about proving that slow fashion can have its own in a city where it no longer waits. Kayll regularly rejects wholesale requirements for collapse, pre-winning and all other microscopic seasons that now form the pulse of retail. Designers are under pressure from “very online” influence to quickly decline after a rapid trend disappears within a few weeks and replaces. “We don’t exist to play that game,” Kyle said. “It’s just a no. This is not something we participated in. Ethical brands cannot compete with these markets. ”
Her refusal is as important as branding. Kayll is for women who believe in buying less but better things. This is for women who care about how clothing is made (ethically, in London) who may have a point of view on sustainability and aesthetics. Kayll talks about her customers with compassion, and it’s obvious that she designs for them rather than for herself – the difference seems small, but constructed in a stylish form. Yes, clients are nurtured, but not in performance. “I designed clothes that will stand the test of time,” she said. “For me, that’s conscious consumerism.”
This is a phrase that depletes meaning through overuse. But Kayll won the right to say this. Procure fabrics responsibly. The swimsuit is made of Econyl, a nylon recycled from marine plastic. Every decision has its source. Her communication style has a recurring pattern: observation, evaluation, and improvement. She doesn’t have traffic or over-intelligent processes in terms, never exaggerates her role, and rarely indulges in exaggeration. If anything, she would make things refreshing.
Even Kayll showed up at Met Gala earlier this year, where she shrugged and discussed a bunch of orchids, lilac and scallions in full bloom. This is not a coronation. This is a mood board, a “visual feast”. hER shoes are coroned by petals, and her purse does not collect money like a bouquet. A woman dresses up as charm in her own botanical terms. When asked about the experience, she clarified, “It has nothing to do with the Metropolitan Gala.” “It’s about making something positively contribute to the world. I don’t think I’ve “made it” no matter how big the brand is. I don’t know if I’ll feel it. ”
It’s easy to use Kyle as an antidote to influencer economy. But she also doesn’t buy this narrative. “I believe that the appreciation of beautiful craftsmanship is a response to fast fashion,” she said. “I would love to have a crystal ball that says fast fashion will go away. But I don’t think that’s the case.”
