‘We’re celebrating our 10-year anniversary,’ says Martina Tiefenthaler of her creative partnership with Demna Gvasalia. Originally from Austria, Tiefenthaler first met Gvasalia in 2011, when she joined Maison Margiela’s then bare-bones design team as his intern, before becoming his assistant, and finally, his right hand. She has remained Gvasalia’s closest collaborator since his appointment as Balenciaga’s artistic director in October 2015 and the pair’s invaluable working relationship has defined much of the house’s seismic creative transformation.

Tiefenthaler’s work with Gvasalia in the early days at Vetements helped establish the brand foundations of the collective-cum-fashion-label that brought him to the attention of the industry, clued-up consumers, and ultimately the Kering Group who saw his potential for Balenciaga. The experience and knowledge she gained in those different roles helped sharpen what she calls her ‘360 point of view’, the default setting she uses when co-piloting the creative fortunes of a cutting-edge
fashion brand, no matter its scale or heritage. Today, under the loftier title of Balenciaga’s chief creative officer, Martina’s responsibilities appear seemingly endless, which is how she likes it. Her mission, she says with characteristic aplomb, is simply to make the house ‘creatively better, conceptually better, commercially better’.

System caught up with Martina as she completed a busy day of Balenciaga fittings, to discuss her love of ‘very tight or very baggy’ clothes, balancing financial success with material waste, and her decade and counting alongside one of today’s most wildly creative minds.

We’re in Balenciaga’s Parisian HQ, housed in a former hospital building which dates back to 1632. How does it feel to work in this kind of setting?

Martina Tiefenthaler: I always say to Demna that it’s really bizarre that we are in such an historical place when our job is to think into the future and be completely without boundaries. It creates an interesting tension. And because the building is protected, we couldn’t change the colour of the windows, the door-
knobs or anything else; we even had to get approval to change the colour of the carpet in this room [to bright red].

Do the historical surroundings intensify the desire to create the avant-garde?

I’ve thought about that in the past. I guess this building manifests something that defines so much of Paris. When I leave here and walk the old streets back to my house, which is in a building from 1808, the weight of history is everywhere. And that can make things a little difficult for us on a practical level: we do fittings in a room that has pretty low ceilings, so you’re sometimes craving for air. I’m lucky though, because when we go to work in Zurich, where Demna lives, it’s in a totally different environment. The [studio] building is from the 1960s, lots of glass, and overlooking a lake; it’s as open as this one is enclosed.

How often are you there?

It depends on where we are on the collection. Today, for example, we’re doing fittings with the models, which we only ever do in Paris, never in Zurich. But generally speaking I would say it could be between one to three times a month, with each trip lasting two to five days. Outside of Covid, I spend about 80 working days there a year; it’s a lot.

Is that disruptive or just normal now?

It’s not normal, but I do like it, because I need to get out of Paris regularly. I came here 10 years ago for work, not necessarily because I adore the city, and it is still difficult for me now. Life in Paris is very different to how I see the world, my organization, my ideas of how to be social, so I feel lucky that my work takes me elsewhere. The seasonal schedule dictates where I am and when, so that can sometimes be difficult on a personal level. You know, I miss out on birthdays, and I have trouble keeping up my sports routine. But I’m from Austria and my mum’s house is only 10 minutes from Switzerland; you can see the Swiss and Austrian mountains from it.

Talking of family life in Austria, what was the first thing in pop or visual culture that you discovered for yourself, that hadn’t just been handed down from your parents or elder siblings?

I had trouble finding that by myself because I have two older siblings, both of whom were strong role models in my life. I got quite confused between looking up to my sister, who’s 12 years older than me, and my brother who’s 7 years older than me, and then my peers. But I look back now and think that was quite useful, because even today I have a very 360 point of view; I think you can see that in our collections because we get inspiration from all over. There were multiple things I was hooked on as a teenager: hip-hop culture from my brother, and then snowboarding, because I am from the mountains, so we do a lot of sport.

What about clothes?

At one point I was dressing far more like a boy compared to the other girls – like, oversized snowboarding clothes. I never felt comfortable in clothes that had a ‘normal’ fit, and even today I don’t feel very confident in them because I don’t think it fits my silhouette. What I prefer is either very tight or very big – hiding in baggy or exposing things.

That’s quite Balenciaga, too.

It’s funny because Demna is the same. As a teenager I was not so confident, and I was bullied for a while, too. So my search for an identity always drew me back to my parents. They had a business along with my grandparents, so when they weren’t dressed for sports at the weekend – skiing or hiking – they were all dressed in business clothes; lots of tailoring, suiting and nice knits, and ties for the men. As a little girl I loved seeing my mum in a suit, with tights and nice shoes, and a bit of golden jewellery. It is a very deep memory for me, that idea of her as my working mum. And I still love that kind of dressing today.

When did your interest in clothes develop into styling and assembling looks on yourself? Was it really about the projection of an image?

It was all of that. Even when I was small, before each new school year, my mum would buy me some new looks. I vividly remember getting home from the shopping trip and playing store in my bedroom: pretending to scan the labels with my calculator. I just liked everything about clothing: understanding the volumes, dressing, pleating, arranging them properly at home, choosing what types of hangers… Friends would make fun of me because the closet in my little bedroom was so neat. I wanted it to look like a clothing store.

Were you making clothes, too?

My mum taught me how to knit and sew very early; I learned it from her before they taught me in school. I would make fabric bags or little pouches, not clothing but more like accessories. The pattern-making I learned later.

How did you discover fashion – brand labels, the industry, fashionable clothes?

When I was young, my sister moved to Munich and was buying Jil Sander, Walter Van Beirendonck, Dolce & Gabbana – the kind of brands I would never have known being in the Austrian countryside. That helped me understand that there was more to clothes than just business dressing or hip-hop, and I guess I wanted to be like my sister.

What were your first steps towards working in fashion? Did you study it?

Yes, my training was in fashion design. I always knew I was a creative person but the nearest university to home only offered one creative class, which was architecture, so I started studying that; also because my sister is an interior designer and her husband is an architect. I only did one year though.

So many fashion designers dropped out of architecture studies!

It’s crazy, yes. I was like, ‘I can’t build a house! It takes forever to dig a hole in the ground!’ The professors told me I was so textiles-based in my approach, but I never knew what they meant. Then I figured maybe something more in the direction of fashion could be more suitable. I moved to Munich, spent a year doing internships for a fashion PR agency and the styling department of a German television channel. Then a year studying communication design in a school that combined graphic design with fashion design. I learned about typography and layouts, but also sewing and fashion illustration. Then after that I was like, ‘OK, I think it is fashion I want to do’, so I applied to the University of Applied Arts in Vienna to study fashion design. I got in and since then I’ve been in fashion.

How long was there between you starting to work in the industry and first meeting Demna?

Demna was actually the first person I worked with. I ended up studying in Vienna for three years, but didn’t finish, because I was so desperate to get into the actual work world. I started applying for design internships in Paris, the city of fashion. Maison Margiela was the only one that replied so I went for an interview and that’s when I met Demna. I’ve been in Paris ever since.

How was that Margiela experience alongside Demna?

I was immediately like, ‘This is the place for me.’ I was Demna’s intern, then his assistant, then his right hand. The structure was tiny at the time – he had no real team – and we worked only on the women’s show collection. But I think with him feeling so comfortable there, that’s how I experienced it, too. We liked the history of the house, and the way Margiela’s design codes at the time were easy for us to relate to. For me, those early years were an extension of school.

Did you recognize early on the ways in which the two of you were both similar to one another and different?

We have a good amount of overlap; we like and dislike the same things. But then I have my side and he has his, the two of which can be so far apart. But I would say these two individual and opposite sides are also complementary.

How would you define the two opposite sides?

It’s something we both acknowledge without really discussingt it. When you think in terms of proportion and silhouette, that is where we are pretty much the same. But then I ask myself this a lot: am I sometimes the one who brings in something feminine that Demna doesn’t have? Just a desire from a female point of view, and an understanding of how it feels to wear certain things. Then again, I don’t know about that from a men’s perspective, even though I have often worn menswear. Besides that, I also think I have a certain understanding of – it’s such a horrible word – but of ‘chicness’ and quality, where I think Demna sometimes sees those things a bit differently.

What does Demna bring to your working process that you wouldn’t bring yourself?

He’ll have an idea that pushes me further that I normally would go, or in a different direction. If you look at the recent collections, we had all these ‘used’ effects, like the holes in the clothes – that is all Demna. He’ll say, ‘Let’s destroy it’, and I am like, ‘Well, OK, but why would someone buy broken clothing?’ [Laughs] But of course that’s what I wear, too. And once he brings the idea to the table, I really know how to push it further, thanks to the opportunities we have here to work
with expensive materials and the best manufacturers. So it is this dialogue where we bring in different points of view; there is an exchange.

What did you learn while working at Vetements that prepared you for Balenciaga?

I’ve never asked myself that question. I actually stopped working at Vetements quite early on to go work at Louis Vuitton. So my contribution was really at the beginning with Demna, kicking it off almost. For the first time, I truly understood what it meant to work 360, because we did everything; we chose the name, designed the logo, made the website, decided what the labels should look like, and that is exactly what I am doing at Balenciaga, too. So I think everything prepared me for this job now when I look back.

Vetements was about creating a world, whereas Balenciaga has been about reimagining a much bigger world that already existed. Did that feel like a big responsibility given the history of the house, or was it liberating, like, ‘Wow we’ve got the keys to the castle here’?

It was such a mixed bag of emotions. I felt free and lucky; I felt enabled to do all those things beyond the collections themselves, to bring in the right people, to create teams and change structures.

That’s a lot to consider, though.

The pressure was, and still is, full-on, and it is a weight on my shoulders. I just said to you before that all my previous working experiences were like school, and were preparing me for what I’m doing now at Balenciaga, but frankly nothing can prepare you for this!

What was it like when you first arrived at Balenciaga?

The company was much smaller when we arrived, but it had a rich history and heritage. A lot of the design team had been there for quite a while, before us joining, so we came in and people were like, ‘Who are these people? They’ve not had much experience; they only make crazy hoodies with the sleeves too long.’ So while arriving when we did felt liberating, extremely exciting and creatively absolutely fulfilling, it also felt like a lot of responsibility, a lot of pressure, and there were so many eyes on us, some of which probably wanted to see us fail. It was intense.

How did you go about shifting the working culture, the whole mentality? These things don’t happen overnight.

It took us years, it didn’t feel quick at all. Demna was the visionary leader, who I felt absolutely in sync with. I knew he relied on me and vice versa. But at the
beginning he was still working at Vetements half the time, so I was often the one managing the Balenciaga teams. When it came to our designs though, I didn’t require feedback, because I knew it was good. I don’t want to sound arrogant, it’s more confidence. I just saw it as my duty to push Demna’s vision through until everyone was onboard.

What does Demna typically share with you as a starting point for the collection – an image, a WhatsApp message, a news story, a silhouette? Or is it the format of the actual show?

It’s really case by case. There have been seasons when we prepared so far in advance; that came from Demna, who had this moment when he was like, ‘OK, here are four or five themes for next the four or five collections.’ We discussed it, and I added my input. And we gradually prepared those multiple ideas, throwing inspirational pictures into different boxes that matched each theme. Then there was another time when Demna said, ‘I really want a show on water.’ The show was also inspired by nuns’ clothing and so all those different elements came together.

Is there a constant dialogue between you and Demna?

We communicate much less about the creative than you might think. There is a lot of texting between me and Demna, but it’s usually about daily company stuff, like, ‘This person wants to leave the company’, or whatever. The creative dialogue itself is a system between us that just works. It’s really weird. Often Demna doesn’t need a lot of words to tell me where he wants to go. He’s not really the type of person to come in and talk a lot anyway. I’m the one who talks a lot! If he suggests something to me, I’ll ask 15 questions back, because I am so curious. So through my questions, I can also hint to him, and suggest things.

You’ve worked with Demna for 10 years now. What is his greatest skill?

Yes, it’s our 10-year anniversary! Maybe you’ll think this answer is predictable, but Demna is extremely visionary and he has a fantastic ability to imagine things in 3D, or whatever form. I cannot enter his mind but I know that he has this ability to imagine anything. I don’t know if that comes from his childhood – when he was dreaming a lot about other things, and escaping the world – but his fantasy is so daring and free. Not that he is one of these ‘fantastical’ designers, creating fairy-tale worlds with characters, but of course, you need fantasy in order to create things in your mind, and he can do that very well.

And Demna’s biggest flaw?

Ouch, that’s tough! [Long pause] I think it has something to do with the confidence he sometimes lacks, so in order to protect himself or to hide from that, he can create thick walls around himself. It’s not ideal, but he’s human.

Demna told me, ‘I’m a pragmatist but I also want to break things.’ What is your own rapport with this tension between working within a large corporate structure and being free to create?

I think I’m similar to Demna in that way. I am not so much into astrology, but I’m a Gemini and people often tell me it’s linked to that. I like doing things very correctly, being very organized and neat, and I am not really into doing anything illegal. But at the same time, I love to provoke and do things differently, to put something out there and for people to be like, ‘What the fuck? What am I looking at?’

To what extent does carte blanche really exist within a company of this scale? And is having carte blanche always a positive thing?

The relationship between Demna and Cédric [Charbit, Balenciaga CEO] is crucial in this; it gives us that foundation. I think there is an agreement between them that this is a house driven by design and creativity. That’s not always been the case though. There was conflict in the past, and a lot of the time, the answer was, ‘Non, c’est pas possible’, and we were like, ‘Well, try, because we think it is possible!’ So it didn’t always feel like carte blanche, but looking back, a lot of what we’ve done
has of course been thanks to that sense of freedom.

I guess success breeds that freedom…

We always laugh about this – maybe Demna told you the story, too – but when we designed the Triple S sneaker, everyone told us, ‘No, you cannot make that, you can’t produce it.’ And Cédric was like, ‘No, no, no. It’s ugly, it’s big, it’s heavy, it cannot be made.’ And then a little later everyone came back to us and was like, ‘Could you make some more, could you do different colours?’

Did you sense the commercial potential of the Triple S right from the start?

I actually did. Maybe because the longer I do this job, the more I learn. But this also brings up an interesting problem that I think about all the time: the thing about getting bigger is, sure, you have more cash flow, so you can launch couture or do a show on water, which of course are expensive things, but I also know that as we grow bigger, it is not our ‘intellectual’ audience that is growing; it’s actually the other end of the spectrum. I know that because I get feedback on what works in the store and what doesn’t. So when we launched the Triple S, I thought it was going to work, because no shoe like that had ever existed – and people want new things. Today, however, with the larger audience we have, I am not so sure if a shoe like that would work. So I am questioning this more; I’m feeling almost poisoned by it.

Poisoned by the success?

Poisoned by the commercial capitalist aspect of what I’m doing. And I know that Demna doesn’t always like what I have to say about these things. He’ll sometimes look at me and say, ‘I don’t want to hear that, leave me alone.’ Fair enough, because I don’t want to make him feel constrained. But sometimes I have to tell him, ‘Hey, I think this is not going to do it.’ Nobody wants that. And I do think some of the things I’ve said have made him rethink, and that’s brought us to make better decisions in the long run. But, personally, I have a problem with the waste that we create.

Is that always a factor in your thinking?

Yes, because I know if something is super commercial then we will sell too much of it, which does impact levels of waste. But of course, I am part of this capitalist system in a corporate structure, and it’s my job to make things that sell. So I am constantly evaluating: ‘Is that going to be a limited-edition success? Will it sell out? Will people buy it and keep it forever?’ But at the same I also understand what the broader audience wants. So if we make a product that is successful and will sell out, that is obviously satisfying, even though the burden of the quantity and the amount of stuff we produce is heavy, you know. But then, there are many other things we make that are in between, which don’t sell out. I’m just always thinking about what the journey will be for whatever product or idea I am giving birth to.

So is it fair to say that couture is the most responsible Balenciaga product?

Of course, because you produce on order, and it’s made for someone who will keep it. It’s the opposite of a cheap shoe that loses its sole after five months and ends up in landfill. But then I have to add, if you consider that 60 people work for a year to make 10 dresses, like… what is that? [Sighs] I don’t know, I just question all these details. Each product range has pros and cons. I am so critical of myself, I’m always trying to push to do things better – creatively better, conceptually better, commercially better, better team management, all of it.

What did you enjoy most about launching couture?

Oh, it felt incredible, finally having the counterbalance to this high-speed pressure that we feel with the ready-to-wear. With couture, we had the luxury of time.

Cédric Charbit often talks about Balenciaga being both streetwear and couture, and you sense he loves that breadth of activity and product, and what that represents. What’s your take?

We always talk about the ‘pyramid’ when it comes to our product offer: at the base you have all the T-shirts and sneakers, and then it goes up to the tip, but for a while we didn’t have a tip because we didn’t have couture. The other problem was that the shorts and the sneakers were selling so well. And we are obviously supposed to grow, so how do you grow fast? You make more sneakers and T-shirts, rather than an expensive tailored coat. That was something we were always fighting about, because I can honestly say that if there was only the streetwear side, I wouldn’t be so happy. Demna’s the same, like, ‘How can we bring the more exclusive and daring pieces into the offer?’ And of course, through launching couture we no longer have to debate this pyramid. That feels like a big achievement.
But the truth is, we needed all the other things to be selling well in order to launch the couture in the first place. It wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.

Put like that, it feels quite logical and ‘earned’. There’s no sense of affectation or parade, or it being a marketing plan.

I think so, too, because the idea was born on the creative side of the company. Today, the job I have is overseeing both the design studio and the brand image department. I think we are the only company within our group, and maybe even in the industry, where that’s the case. If you have someone who works with the creative director on the detailed design of the top stitch of a pair of pants, then is coming up with collaboration ideas with the World Food Programme, then working on the ad campaign, you will feel a certain authenticity that you cannot achieve if you have too many cooks in the kitchen. Of course, if there were more of us, certain things would go quicker, but then it would get diluted.

How do you personally deal with the volume of work that’s required? And does all the brand activity genuinely translate into greater customer loyalty? Is there ever a sense of overexposure?

That’s exactly what we’re discussing internally right now. Of course, it is extremely rewarding to put out successful projects, but it can be intense, and my principal responsibility is to protect my teams from overworking. I’d be lying if I said that was easy. From an audience perspective, it is the same: we have to be careful not to overwhelm them, even though we’re an extremely creative team, full of ideas. So we constantly ask ourselves the question, ‘How frequently should we put stuff out?’ The thing is, people are used to consuming so much because of the culture of social media; it’s happening everywhere. So if you reduce your activity you ask yourself the question, ‘Will people come back and watch again? Will they forget about us?’ I don’t have the perfect answer for this.

Finally, veganism is a passion of yours, and I am interested to talk about that in the context of Balenciaga. Cédric Charbit has said in the past, ‘If we can influence how people dress, we can also try to make them think.’ Could Balenciaga become a vehicle to promote veganism and other lifestyles with the same success and influence that it has creating hype and selling products?

I agree with Cédric. It is possible to help make people think. But is our audience really listening or just spending a second to look at a picture before carrying on scrolling? For those people who spend more time with the brand’s campaigns and collections, we probably make them think, although it’s up to them what their reaction is. Working in an industry that only a small number of people can afford – and that nobody actually needs – I see it almost as my duty to consider other issues, such as sustainability. It would be too one-dimensional if we only cared about our luxury sneaker. With veganism, I have been doing it for a long time and for me it is all about health – it is healthy for me, healthy for animals, and healthy for the environment. It’s a win-win-win situation. But at the same time, I work at Balenciaga and we make a lot of products using leather, which is a problem, and so people can justifiably call me a hypocrite. That’s why I’m very careful with making it clear that I have a vegan diet – and that’s where it ends. Because working in this company, I also wear leather products and I have a leather bag. But what I’ve done since I arrived here is constantly question what materials we could use instead of leather. Replacing leather with plastic is obviously not the solution, so could we use cotton with a certain coating? My brother, who is a vegan, and I talk a lot about this stuff,and the ‘controversy’ of me being a vegan and working here. He always tells me, ‘You’re at the perfect place because you can change it from the inside.’ And that is really what I am trying to do.

Has that proven difficult?

It’s a big ship and it takes time to turn it around. But today, we have only vegan catering for our company events; the couture dinner was vegan, the catering on all our photo productions is vegan…

Did that require a big push?

Oh, yes. When I said it the first time, six years ago, the answer I got – from French men, by the way – was, ‘It is not possible because French people need meat and if you don’t give them meat, they get angry.’ [Laughs] For real! Only once we had the right people in the right positions at the company could everyone say, ‘No problem, let’s make the necessary changes and eat vegan’. I guess this transition really symbolizes many of the others things I have fought for at this company – related to products and teams – and now I can say I have succeeded.