Exploring the preservation of craftsmanship with Kalaurie Karl-Crooks.
Words Kathryn Carter
We are today dressed, mostly, by machines. The techniques once taught by dressmaker’s hands teeter on the verge of redundancy. It’s a reality that is of little concern to some, but one which is of great consequence to the conservation of craftsmanship. As long as mass-manufacturing continues to overshadow the place for traditional tailoring, the art of making machine-made clothing—at the pace presently employed by countless factories—shall persist as a danger to our planet and to ourselves. There is, however, a way to return to the roots of the rag trade so as to return to the richness of the clothing craft. A return that may result in more rigorous reconnections with our bodies via the simple act of dressing ourselves with greater care and consciousness.
Photograph Vlad Savin
‘Well, I must say that my imagination will stretch no further than to suggest rebellion in general as a remedy,’ British textile designer William Morris once proposed as our defense against machines that threaten to diminish the integrity of handmade designs. ‘The end of which rebellion, if successful, must needs be to set up some form of art again as a necessary solace of mankind.’
One woman whose work aims to rebel against the toxicity of an industry gone wild is Kalaurie Karl-Crooks. Inspired not by the glamour of the contemporary industry but rather the enchantment of fashion’s long and complex history, Karl-Crooks is an Australia-based artist whose practice is centred around the making of her pieces by hand to honour not only the wearer but the garment itself.
Photograph Vlad Savin Photograph Vlad Savin
‘What is the remedy for the lack of due pleasure in their work which has befallen all craftsmen, and for the consequent sickness of art and degradation of civilization?’ Morris once contemplated. It is this remedy that Karl-Crooks seeks as she—by hand, in her atelier—crafts her clients pieces to be worn in the present, using time-honoured techniques rooted in the past. Creating not garments to be forgotten, but modern heirlooms to be treasured.
KATHRYN CARTER: Describe your philosophy?
KALAURIE KARL-CROOKS: Beautiful things, handcrafted to last.
You hold a Bachelor of Fashion Design but were also once upon a time accepted into a Fine Arts program—your road not travelled by. Do you consider yourself a designer or an artist?
I think of myself more as an artist than designer—fabric just happens to be my current medium for expression and storytelling.
Do you feel there’s a reason why the title of ‘designer’ fails to resonate with who you are as a creator?
I think the title of ‘fashion designer’ is somewhat limiting, whereas as an ‘artist’ you can have many different mediums for expression. The life of an artist is expansive, [your] creativity is not limited. My creative journey began with drawing and painting; for now, I use fabric and clothing. My very being is creative.
It must be liberating to know that you can lay down your needle and thread, metaphorically speaking, knowing that you can always channel your creative energy in a multitude of ways.
If the time comes for me to do things other than fashion, I will not be idle. I have to create to live. As an ‘artist’ you live and breathe creative expression, it’s a part of your soul. I am deeply unhappy and unfulfilled as a person when I am not being creative. Art is my mental health lifeline. That sounds cheesy, but it’s how I feel.
Not cheesy at all, authentic and true. You’re clearly incredibly open-minded when it comes to working with new mediums, what materials have you been most drawn to lately?
Woven cloth speaks to my heart the most as my work is focused of fine finishing and tailoring. I like the structure and security of woven fabrics as compared to stretchy knitted fabrics. I also lean more towards natural fibres; wools, silks, cottons and linens are my favourite. These materials make up what I consider to be a holy collection of traditional fibres that I can rely on.
Photograph Vlad Savin Photograph Vlad Savin
Many brands worldwide continue to manufacture garments designed to be disposed of after one or two seasons. Instead, you create modern heirlooms designed and crafted to be treasured for a lifetime. What led you to this decision?
When our ancestors first developed cloth to make clothes to cover our bodies, it was a very precious resource. Clothing was a matter of survival. As life became easier, clothing became more about expression and status, but it remained precious. Back then, clothing wasn’t disposable, it was cared for and repaired until it could no longer be worn. Only in recent history has clothing become so readily available, due to mass manufacturing. But to me clothing is still precious, it’s something that I treasure. I say look after it and it will look after you.
Photograph Vlad Savin
And how would you describe your aesthetic?
Feminine, romantic, demure but at the same time a bit playful.
Virginia Woolf once wrote: ‘Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than merely to keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us…’ What do you perceive the role of clothing to be during a time in history when many who get dressed in the morning do so with views of a world that is largely clouded by fear?
I think our clothing can be a personal armour as we navigate our surroundings, but I also believe that clothing cannot hide the darkness in one’s soul. I used to think you could dress to be someone else, but you’re ultimately still you. I love this line from a poem called ‘Clothes Chapter X’ by Lebanese poet Kahlil Gibran: ‘Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful’. Clothing is a powerful tool for expression, but when you look at the details [of the people beneath them] the truth cannot be covered.
Photograph Vlad Savin Photograph Vlad Savin
So powerfully-put. In your practice, you work with what you refer to as radical traditionalism. Could you tell me more about this design philosophy?
For me, it’s a philosophy which revolves around practice focused on craftsmanship. Everything I do is done from scratch in a slow traditional way, to create something beautiful and purposeful. I do not outsource to factories, everything is done in-house just like in traditional European ateliers. As a craftsman, I am able to perform all roles across the creation timeline—designing, patternmaking, grading, cutting and final assembly at the sewing machine. If I cannot do it in my atelier, then it’s not done at all. In this fast-paced industry, I think that’s radical.
Given the prevalence of mass production methods used in the industry today, your way of working is certainly more radical than not. This approach brings you much closer to the clothing, too, in a way.
Making clothing is a very labour-intensive job. Most of the industry is run in an extremely operational way, but I see the work as creative labour and from that comes a great sense of personal satisfaction and joy. For me, the process of making clothing is deeply personal; I like to think of myself as almost a fabric whisperer as I handle the materials and ask them to give in to my whims. As a student of thought of the great textile designer William Morris, I don’t believe that making clothing has to be mundane.
Indeed, Morris had a deep understanding on the divinity of what many others may dismiss as dull. I believe it was he who once said: ‘For surely there is no square mile of earth’s inhabitable surface that is not beautiful in its own way, if we men will only abstain from wilfully destroying that beauty…’ This sentiment could arguably be applied not only to spaces on earth but to the time-honoured techniques that are today seemingly endangered.
I fundamentally believe that in order to be a good designer, you should know how to properly put clothing together, and therefore I am also constantly practicing. I sew six days a week and have been doing so since I completed my Bachelor’s degree six years ago. Still, there are designers out there who don’t even know how to use a sewing machine. As a stickler for tradition, I think that’s a terrible thing.
Photograph Vlad Savin
Meanwhile, the industry at large currently seems quite preoccupied with innovative technologies that promise to transcend the way we create and interact with clothing. What has working with the roots of the rag trade taught you about the value of how things were once done, as opposed to how they could be done differently?
History shows us how to be the most mindful and resourceful with the materials available to us, and teaches us the value of craftsmanship and quality. For this reason, we can look to the past for the answers to the problems of the present in the fashion industry. The global scale of the industry, though wonderful and powerful in many ways, has caused a lot of destruction. One of the ways the industry is exploring overcoming the destruction is by taking everything digital. But, with fashion being traditionally tactile, I fear it will lose its true essence if we continue down this path. Fashion is already on a very slippery slope of no longer being ‘fashion’ and instead being ‘product’. What happens when the ‘product’ isn’t even physical? Then we will, I fear, truly lose the meaningfulness of fashion.
In July 2021, Fashion Revolution released the sixth annual edition of the Fashion Transparency Index. The report states that despite overproduction and overconsumption continuing to harm the planet, major brands and retailers are still not doing enough to address the problem. As a small business, how do you create clothing while keeping the health of our planet in mind?
I’ve structured my business around a made-to-order manufacturing model, so I only use what is needed—every garment has a destination with purpose. Making clothing slowly like this allows me to be resourceful with materials and eliminates a lot of waste, especially on the cutting room floor. I also use deadstock materials whenever possible. Unlike other brands, I never go on sale and I run designs until their fabrics run out. This ensures that the clothing and its craftsmanship are never devalued. It also ensures customers have time to collect the pieces they adore, without feeling pressured to make impulse purchases.
The report also states that: ‘information overload, data dumping and fluffy storytelling remains a problem among many major fashion brands’. How do you feel about the depths of deception that stain the industry, and why have you made it a priority to practice your craft with greater transparency?
Greenwashing in rabid in the fashion industry. I keep my business as transparent as possible because for me sustainability isn’t just a marketing buzz word, it’s a way of life. When it comes to my values, there is a huge crossover between how I live my life and how I run my business. I am always trying my hardest to lessen my impact, be resourceful and mindful with how I use and produce things. Of course no business is perfect but I think it’s important to try your hardest to do what you can to ensure you’re not harming the planet.

It’s true that so many garments today are still created either behind a veil of greenwashing or in outright unethical conditions. Do you feel these practices influence how an individual feels in their body when they slip into these pieces that were made under questionable circumstances?
To be honest, I think the majority of folks don’t consider where or how their clothing was created, about who may have suffered, or at what expense it has cost people and the planet. In a perfect world, everyone would know the true cost, but modern life has disconnected us from so many aspects of life and caused us to become so out of touch. You cannot blame people for having other things to worry about.
And yet, discussions around improving sustainability so often place the onus and responsibility on the wearer making more conscious choices, not on businesses being mandated to make clothing ethically.
It’s true, there is a lot of talk about the ‘consumer having power to make change’. That is true to a degree, buying power can be the guidance for change. However, I personally think the companies selling the products must ensure that they are producing under the best possible circumstances. But of course for those who have the privilege to invest in meaningful brands, I think there does come a feeling of satisfaction. Knowing that you are wearing a beautiful garment that has been made with the health of the planet and its people in mind.
It is often said that something can be made with love. As kitschy as the phrase itself is, do you feel there’s an element of truth to it? In that, a garment made consciously by hand with well-sourced, sustainable materials may hold a different energy to garments stitched in bulk at rapid speed?
Absolutely, I believe in the phrase ‘made with love’. I love fashion, I love the process of making the clothing, I love beautiful fabrics, and I love my planet. I hope that all of that [love] can be felt when someone wears one of my pieces.
Photograph Vlad Savin
Mass-production is essentially the manufacturing of large quantities of standardised products made to look alike and perform in the same ways. It could be argued, thus, that the philosophies underpinning mass-production have infiltrated other realms of contemporary existence, including medical and political paradigms. Today, patients and citizens, it sometimes seems, are treated and governed much as garments are on the assembly line—as standardised subjects as opposed to individual souls. Do you feel that the ongoing reality of fast fashion—an unsustainable system that champions sameness—threatens, at least to some degree, the evolution of the individual?
Fast fashion is hugely connected to profit and the same connections can be seen in the realm of politics, so I can see the link there in regards to the sacrifice of the individual. Those who shop at fast fashion brands are really just being told what to wear and dressing like everyone else. Personally, I am not attracted to having something which everyone else has, neither are the women who wear my clothing. My clients are not afraid of being different and they are confident in their own aesthetic, confident enough to know what they will get the most wear out of for years to come. I believe as time goes on, more people will seek more individualism as they seek more fulfilment in their lives, coming to understand that personal expression amplifies spiritual satisfaction.
What (or who), in recent times, has most influenced your own artistic practice?
For the past few years, I’ve been researching the work of British textile designer William Morris. His philosophies around creative labour and his advocation for craftsmanship during the rise of the industrial revolution is very inspiring to me.
Photograph Frederick Hollyer (1884), England. Museum no. 7715–1938 © Victoria and Albert Museum, London William Morris, Peacock and Dragon (designed 1878)
You yourself seem to advocate, by example in your work, for the continuation of craftsmanship.
I do often feel like I am advocating for slow craftsmanship in this mass-produced world. I have also always been very inspired by Flemish fashion designer Ann Demeulemeester. I love how she approaches the creation of clothes and I believe her to be more of an artist than designer.
What creative projects are you currently working on?
I just wrapped up this year’s collection, so I can now dedicate myself fully to my next. I don’t like to speak about collections before they are finished as things change and evolve, but I’ve been conceptualising my next one for some time. What I can say is that it will be my response to everything that has happened to the world in the last two and a bit years.
I can’t wait to see it. And what do you hope to offer the world with your practice?
I hope to offer a magical world of beautiful things made with deep consideration, for people to treasure.
Kathryn Carter is a freelance writer and editor who specialises in imaginative content creation, copywriting, brand storytelling, and editorial direction.