DSM’s Adrian Joffe and Fashion East’s Lulu Kennedy on bridging the gap between emerging designers and global retail.
By Rahim Attarzadeh

DSM’s Adrian Joffe and Fashion East’s Lulu Kennedy on bridging the gap between emerging designers and global retail.
It was 10 September 2004. Tony Blair was the UK’s prime minister, Google launched what we now know as Gmail, and at 17-18 Dover Street in London’s Mayfair, Adrian Joffe and his wife, Comme des Garçons founder and designer Rei Kawakubo, opened Dover Street Market – and changed the face of fashion retail. Chaotic, contradictory and sensorial, the store – as much a sensibility as a space – immediately began creating, rather than simply capturing, the zeitgeist. In March 2016, DSM – having outgrown its original namesake site – relocated to the former Burberry HQ on Haymarket1, more than doubled its size, and continued its enduring influence and uncompromising creative approach.
While Dover Street Market has opened its doors to established luxury brands throughout its 20-year history, it has always brought them together with young and emerging brands, curating luxury and leisurewear, rare books, perfume, coffee, watches, T-shirts, and art installations. It is an approach inspired by legendary London independent trader hub Kensington Market and its spirit reminiscent of the work of late stylist Ray Petri’s 1980s Buffalo movement – a sprawling sartorial amalgamation of high and low that continues to influence fashion today. Over the years, DSM’s presence has spread to Tokyo, Beijing, Singapore, Los Angeles, New York, and since May 2024, Paris. Within these collective spaces, Dover Street Market has honed its craft through two decades of industry feast and famine, yet the question remains: how did they consistently discover such burgeoning talent?
Like Joffe and Kawakubo, Lulu Kennedy, founder of London-based, nonprofit talent incubator, Fashion East, has never taken the road most travelled. After years of organizing rave parties in Naples2, she returned to London, began trading at Kensington Market and worked in an art gallery on Brick Lane, before finding her true calling after she met Ofer Zeloof, the owner of the Old Truman Brewery in East London. In 2000, Fashion East was born as a special project in the location to give show spaces to the designers Kennedy knew, loved and nurtured. Today, Fashion East has become key to nurturing the future of London fashion and a staple of the London Fashion Week schedule. Since its creation, the initiative has showcased designers including Simone Rocha, Craig Green, Jonathan Anderson, Kim Jones, Martine Rose, Grace Wales Bonner and Maximilian Davis, to name just a few. As the director of Fashion East, Kennedy was awarded an MBE in 2012 for her contribution to the fashion industry.
In essence, the Fashion East alumni have proved, if anything, the value of an international store like Dover Street Market. In today’s retail landscape, what’s needed beyond simply offering products is the intelligence, sensitivity and confidence to choose the right talent whose work can be supported, stocked and commercialized. In a world of always-on, instantaneously available apparel, Kennedy, Joffe and Kawakubo’s keen eyes ensure that selection is differentiation, and that a shared experience becomes a communal moment. So, on a crisp winter’s morning at Dover Street Market’s Rose Bakery, System brought Kennedy and Joffe together to discuss the currency of independence, the bleeding of luxury, and what continues to make them anarchists at heart.
Let’s start with a philosophical, if ontopic, question: what is your definition of independence?
Adrian Joffe: The freedom to do what I want, and in the context of Dover Street Market and Comme des Garçons, to do what we want. Freedom and independence – they’ve always been intertwined. It’s an interesting question. Independence is as difficult to define as it is to earn.
Lulu Kennedy: Fashion East is a weird one because when we embark on different projects with all of these young designers, people really can’t get their heads around the fact that everything we do is non-transactional. It’s becoming an increasingly rare entity in the fashion industry nowadays, to do something that does not primarily benefit the proprietor. Of course, we have patrons who support us, but they’ve never tried to convert our vision into a business. That’s how I would define independence: when you’ve built something that’s been around long enough that it cannot be commodified.
Lulu, would you say that this autonomy is based on the trust you’ve earned in the industry over the past 24 years of Fashion East?
Lulu: You can’t have independence without autonomy. People often view this as suspicious, or nowadays as a marketing term to sell clothing. It’s never been about business. True autonomy is when you are governed by instinct. If instinct happens to generate success, then that’s an added benefit. Being in a position where you can afford to learn from your mistakes based on instinct is just as profitable as being successful.
‘People can’t get their heads around the fact thatwhat we do is non-transactional. Doing somethingthat doesn’t primarily benefit the proprietor is rare.’
Adrian, there is a debate surrounding the empowerment of creativity and freedom while running a business. There is the belief that the big brand is king, but there is another school of thought that sees independent brands and businesses as becoming more influential because they are more curatorial in how they operate, balancing equity and commercial strategy with authenticity. Where do you stand on all this and have those lines become more blurred in recent times?
Adrian: This adheres to a one-two punch combination. You have number one that forces designers to be as creative and independent as possible. Without that, you have no foundation for a business as it hasn’t come from you. Very, very soon after that number one, you have number two, which in essence, is about survival. It’s not worth putting yourself through the creative strain of number one if you don’t have number two already at hand. If you really don’t have both, then don’t do it. You have to sell things to survive but those things have to be what you want to create.
Let’s go back in time. What are your earliest fashion memories? Were there particular stores that stood out?
Lulu: Before London and Kensington Market, I was living in Naples and was part of a collective putting on raves. I was never really around fashion per se. My first exposure to this was actually through my dad who was an English and drama teacher at a school in Devon and at Dartington College of Arts. He always put on these big and dramatic plays and his version of Jesus Christ Superstar was totally psychedelic. The costumes were huge and from that I got this sense of the power and illusion that came from clothing, how it could be both concealing and revealing. Then it was watching Top of the Pops. My mum was the opposite; she wanted me to play a classical instrument and read a book, and I’d sit there going: ‘No! I want to be like Blondie!’
You saw fashion as performance rather than specific brands or collections.
Lulu: Exactly. The 1980s really defined that relationship between fashion and style. There were these moments that I remember fondly. Neneh Cherry performing ‘Buffalo Stance’ while she was pregnant. She’d been styled by Judy [Blame]3, who I met shortly after I returned to London from Naples; I was in awe from the start. He was one of my absolute heroes. I remember coming back to London with about £50 to my name and meeting Kevin from Kensington Market. I bought a pair of studded boots with everything that I had – fashion was always about style for me.
Adrian, what about your early experiences of fashion?
Adrian: My parents had no idea about fashion. My mum would just take me to Marks & Spencer or Selfridges’ food hall in London, but then I remember getting a little interested in fashion when I was about 14 or 15. There were a few Italian shops on the Fulham Road, and I remember going in this tiny multibrand store and seeing these green corduroy trousers. When I actually went in and bought them, it was very exciting. I was attracted to the whole King’s Road scene at that time, but it was my sister who got me into fashion; she was a knitwear designer at the time4. I helped her put on shows and sell her products. It was the early 1980s and there was this sense of expression through clothing when it came to independent brands and boutiques. There were fewer creative restraints compared to nowadays. It felt more curated and less formulaic.
Is curating today a question of expressing an opinion or an identity through the act of selecting and assembling choices? Many people consider what you do respectively at Fashion East and at DSM to be forms of curation, especially when it comes to working with independent fashion brands.
Adrian: We are all curating to some extent, whether we do it unconsciously or intentionally. It’s the same when anyone decides what they want to wear on a daily basis. I would say that I’ve made a job out of it without knowing. I would like to think that Dover Street Market has been – whether intentionally or not – an architect in aiding people’s ability to curate how they want to present themselves.
Lulu: Dover Street Market has always been about that for us. When one of the young designers that we’ve shown through Fashion East makes it to the store, we see that as a huge form of validation. You guys have always been ahead of the curve. In terms of what I do at Fashion East, it’s all about fostering their creative inhibitions into something that feels realistic and achievable amid the economic difficulties of today’s fashion climate. There have been so many of them…
Adrian: So many… Simone Rocha, Craig Green, Maximilian Davis… Lulu: Olly Shinder, Matty Bovan, Jonathan Anderson, Stefan Cooke, Grace Wales Bonner, Martine Rose…
Adrian: Am I allowed to ask Lulu a question?
That’s encouraged.
Adrian: Is there some sort of rivalry between Fashion East and NewGen?
Lulu: We are too different in purpose for there to be a rivalry. At Fashion East, we’re very much about presenting three designers for two seasons in one show, whereas they are focused on solo shows. We’re preparing them to hopefully get backing from NewGen. We don’t see ourselves as challenging them. It’s more about the show for Fashion East. We’re talking to the designers about the new gender criteria and warning them of the pitfalls of having their own show too early on, rather than taking care of their team financially. We’re helping them build their team and listen to the right people who are already used to doing shows, so when they get the backing they deserve, they know exactly what to do.
So you don’t see it as essential for emerging designers to have their own show early on? Or for them to feel that they have to show in Paris in order to be recognized on a more global stage?
Lulu: If you have a good product that people want, it will sell. You could have a brand that’s just a few T-shirts and it will never need to put on a show. I don’t think designers should think that they absolutely have to show. It’s a dangerous mindset for any designer as the pressure of putting on a big show can detract from the goals they set out to achieve within any collection. If you’re a designer with a strong and distinctive visual language, like Mowalola, you could be selling stuff to ten countries around the world without putting on a show. Now she’s decided to go back to doing shows because she feels it’s the right time. It’s not so much a case of if, more, when. If you already know how to be relevant today and you can make a desirable product, a fashion show won’t help sell it.
How would you define your respective processes?
Lulu: Mine is less complicated as I’m not selling anything! For example, I could choose not to show somebody because I don’t get on with them. That has happened before. Life’s too short and I’ve made those mistakes before.
Adrian: We are similar. From a personal perspective, there has been loads of stuff I didn’t like in my shops! [Laughs] I mean, we work with a team now, and there are seven big shops and one for the parfums, so I sometimes get defeated even if I don’t want a particular brand there. I’ll be like, ‘There is no way I am having that shit!’, and they all say, ‘Yeah, but it’s going to sell well, and it looks nice’, and so I end up saying, ‘Alright, if you insist.’ Sometimes my team call me ‘Joffelini’ when I’m in that mood.
Adrian, do you feel that you’ve really had to consider the economics of the fashion industry, especially in more recent times? Has that ever hindered or influenced your decisions about who you want to support through Dover Street Market? Situations where it’s become less centred around taste and more about revenue stream?
Adrian: Everything has become grossly commercialized. I’m not going to name names and I’m not going to name friends, but there are definitely some that immediately spring to mind – but that doesn’t answer your question. We’re in a moment now where the more commercial the collection, the greater the artificial world around the brand, therefore the higher the revenue stream. It’s their job to make people buy what they think they need. Of course, we have to sell things. We have to have the hot sneaker. We have to have the bag that everyone’s talking about, but I would prefer to go back to a time where people expressed themselves through clothing and not through trends.
Let’s talk about fashion shows. How would you like to see the format change or develop, especially in London?
Lulu: I would like to see more presentations, so the collections originate from a place of discovery. People tend to remember events on the rota that weren’t like all the others. That does not necessarily mean attention seeking through a presentation or something that feels forcefully abstract from a show. It’s a balancing act and it’s difficult especially as London Fashion Week is under constant financial scrutiny, making everything feel sprawling and scattered. Why can’t the audience come in and walk around freely, taking photos of the clothes on the models? Then the lights can go out and the models can start walking as if it’s a show. That experience shouldn’t be exclusive to backstage access. The frequency and format of fashion weeks feels too repetitive and too often. Each fashion show shouldn’t feel like attending the Met Gala.
Adrian: You, as journalists, can change London Fashion Week, or fashion weeks in general, through the power of the pen. If you collectively write more about what’s wrong with Fashion Week and how that is problematic for young designers, and then offer solutions, instead of primarily reviewing shows and talking about references and themes, things might change with that kind of solidarity. A lot of – but not all – journalists are afraid to say what they really think at the minute. The ‘bigger’ the journalist you are, the more brands are paying you for copywriting and storytelling. It’s becoming increasingly problematic to consider anyone’s point of view too significantly. That’s why independent brands who either don’t play that game or can’t afford to play that game are seen from a point of authenticity – they are attended to and reviewed because the journalist genuinely recognizes that they are developing a framework of desirability. The revolution has to occur between all of us.
‘When one of the young designers that we’ve shownthrough Fashion East makes it to the Dover Streetstore, we see that as a huge form of a validation.’
Lulu, is your role to offer a show space for brands or an opportunity to present their work to the fashion industry, regardless of their scale or resources, while also encouraging them to do something unique and personal?
Lulu: I think so. One of our aims is to make sure we have fun while doing it. When fashion isn’t taken too seriously, great things can be accomplished. We encourage designers to lead by what they want to achieve, whether that’s through a show or something else. Fashion East is not only about giving a space for these designers to show their work, it’s also a place for recognition, for discovery, for team building, for creative development, and a way to show them that the fashion industry is not always an impenetrable fortress. It can be cracked – and I love playing a small role in helping them achieve this. It’s also about having an open and honest conversation with each designer. In this industry, honesty is as expensive a currency as independence.
Adrian: Lulu, your role has been – and still is – far greater than you give yourself credit for.
What has been the best piece of advice you’ve given over the years?
Lulu: Take a season out when they’re not in a good place. Don’t be beholden to the system.
Adrian: It’s also reaching a stage of selfawareness and having self-belief. Confidence can instigate independence. It’s having that ability to know when to dip in and drop out of certain dynamics. Knowing when you’re ready to present your work and not believing that by missing a season you’re in some sort of self-imposed spiral. Whether you’re an artist or a fashion designer, you have to know when you’re ready long before the build-up to the show.
There’s more than 20 years of shared history between Fashion East and Dover Street Market. With this in mind, would you say that the fashion industry is currently looking at independent brands for inspiration more than ever, and if so, why do you think that is? Most of the brands currently stocked in DSM Paris have shown through Fashion East.
Adrian: Definitely. That’s why Paris is more alluring; it’s become more creative. People coming in from Berlin, who used to live in London, are coming back to Paris. It’s definitely having a moment again. At least that’s what I think. While Paris is the obvious home of luxury fashion, it also leans towards the other end of the spectrum. We’re stocking Olly Shinder who Lulu showed through Fashion East. His work is clearly inspired by Berlin, yet he’s popular in Paris. There are also very independent people there doing things that no one wants. Then you’ve got everything in between. The DSM store in Paris is all about shifting that balance while respecting what fashion represents. It’s refreshing to have a bricks-and-mortar store that’s in that melee of shifting, where we really want people to see Paris how we see it.
‘When the big brands come to DSM, we say, ‘Don’tspend £50,000 on your space, do something small,temporary, free yourselves up, you can change.’’
Adrian, you’ve previously talked about the operational distinction between Dover Street Market and Comme des Garçons stores. Your latest DSM store in Paris consists predominantly of independent brands, so would you say that it is perhaps closest to the CDG philosophy in terms of its relationship with independence and autonomy?
Adrian: I see what you mean. The Paris store is similar to this mindset in terms of always wanting to offer new things and new juxtapositions of things. But we give freedom of expression to people who somehow share something, some value; they all have a vision and they all have something to say. For me, that is enough, even if I don’t necessarily like what it is they’re saying. The clash of expressions – ‘the chaos’ as we like to call it – is interesting. Comme des Garçons is always perfect because it is Rei’s eye: every shop, every garment, everything that she does is perfect for her. But the concept of Dover Street is to make mistakes.
Why no concessions?
Adrian: Big multinational groups want to be in Dover Street because we give them a chance to express themselves differently. Every shop those big brands have might be identical, so when they come to us, we say, ‘Don’t spend £50,000 on your space, spend £10,000; do something small, something temporary, free yourselves up, you can change.’ So they get all excited… and then they just end up doing exactly the same thing all over again! We have to politely suggest to them that maybe there’s no point them being in Dover Street. I mean, if what they’re proposing is really too boring, it’s not good for anyone. It’s no one particular person’s fault; sometimes there are just too many suits in the way. Dover Street Paris offers something completely different where we don’t have to worry about the separation of one space, it is free flowing and all-inclusive.
System often asks CEOs, ‘When is big too big? When might you stop growing?’ Adrian, would you say the model for Dover Street, particularly in Paris, and Lulu, the model for Fashion East, are extreme ways to resist the at-times needless push for constant expansion?
Adrian: That’s a great question. You don’t need that big an amount of growth. What you need is stability and newness. Little by little, you can build a respected business, one that grows from a point of evolving creativity. Rei always says, ‘Why don’t people work harder? Why is this the same as last year? Why does the show look the same?’ But when someone does something different she really acknowledges that. She is really inspired and excited by the idea of Dover Street somehow promoting new ideas. And you’re right, I think we do resist growth if it’s only about making money. Fashion people in general have been very protective of their own territory – you don’t share things at all – and I think that has changed, partly thanks to Lulu and me, because we’ve opened up opportunities for so many emerging creatives. It’s different for these luxury brands as they feel this constant need to grow, this pressure to grow the business year in and year out even if it means being less creative at times. Maybe through Dover Street and through the free-thinking spirit of Comme des Garçons, we’ve become anarchists for this type of growth over the years.
Lulu: We’ve been approached by investors who try and sell their dream of how they want to see Fashion East grow. In my experience, usually when things seem too good to be true, they are. There’s a lot of bullshit about how to make money. The truth is that if you’re not listening to your team and you don’t genuinely care about the designers you’re working with, then your business will fail, with or without investment. I’m always asked these questions about growing Fashion East more commercially and globally, and I will always shut the door as that’s not for me. How can you go out and find these independent designers and really find talent if you only care about making money?
Adrian, you’ve often expressed the importance of Dover Street Market being about experimentation, curiosity and learning from mistakes. What would you consider one of the more significant mistakes that you’ve made over the past 20 years?
Adrian: That’s a very difficult one. How is one mistake not greater than another? The mistake I often make is being too quick to decide on something without compromise. Then there’s doing something for other reasons that may not be of the best interest to your wider team; you’re maybe doing it because somebody knows about something, but you’re not following your instinct. What about you, Lulu?
Lulu: A classic one for me is misreading my emails. I do everything in a hurry and I skim read. The other day I thought I had a Zoom meeting, so I tidied up my room and sat there while no one arrived. It was actually a physical meeting… things like that.
‘I sometimes say to designers, ‘Are you sureyou want to call the brand by your own name?It just puts a lot of psychological pressure on you.’’
What’s the common ground between Fashion East and Dover Street Market?
Adrian: The common ground is values. The values of independence, of encouraging people to pursue their art. There can be no creation without art.
Lulu: We want things to be as good as they can be. Yes, we are stubborn but that’s because we’ve lived a lot and we’ve learned a lot.
What do you look for in an emerging designer and how important are instinct and personal taste in these decisions?
Adrian: When they have an aesthetic that doesn’t scream, ‘Oh, so predictable!’
Lulu: It isn’t purely about my taste. It’s about trying to give representation to people with real talent. I can sometimes stage a show for someone even if I don’t wear their clothes. It’s important to understand the message a designer is trying to send out instead of thinking whether or not you like the clothes – that can be a hindrance to progress. It’s about having a holistic vision that transcends the so-called ‘importance’ or the ephemeral nature of a collection or a season. Adrian: I would say it is more personal for Lulu than it is for me. At Dover Street, I have to consider what the buying team think and what’s good for the shop – even if it’s something that is not necessarily for me. Sometimes the staff love what’s come in and they’re into it, and that’s good enough for me. I can share their curiosity. But sometimes you hate it more and more. I’m not a selfish person. I don’t have that much confidence.
Lulu, you just used the word ‘holistic’. How do you know when designers are at the level where their vision extends beyond a specific collection?
Lulu: It comes down to how the garments in real life translate from the portfolio they initially send me. If I can see a real connection between the clothes and how they draw or describe their work, then I know I’ve found someone. Then we can have a chat and figure out what’s best for them.
Adrian: That’s interesting. I didn’t know that’s how you looked at things, in terms of how the designers talk about their own work.
Lulu: That’s as big a part of it as the actual clothes. You can get a designer who’s so introverted that it may be difficult for them to present their clothes, so sometimes it’s about having a chat and breaking down what’s best for them.
Why do you think it doesn’t work out sometimes?
Lulu: Finance. It’s always that. Financial restriction. Lack of financial opportunity. Having to go too fast because they don’t have enough time.
Adrian: I do sometimes say to designers, ‘Are you sure you want your name out there in the world?’ You don’t always have to call a brand by your name. It immediately puts on a lot of pressure and there’s quite a lot of psychological stuff that goes hand in hand with that. You can only be autonomous in how you articulate your brand if you are confident within yourself.
Do you think design freedom still exists for designers or do they have to adjust their visions to a market to be successful?
Lulu: They need to find their own way. I think we can fall into this trap of becoming a victim of our own success – we’ve taught people to expect different things all the time. Before, when we started we’d say to designers, ‘Oh, that’s different’, but now it’s more like, ‘OK, so what’s still different today?’ It’s the treadmill that you have to stay on these days; you’ve got to constantly find new ways of being creative with more restrictions.
Adrian: Young designers have to be guerrillas. Does being anarchic come at too high a cost nowadays? I don’t think so. In fact, we need it.