Marine Serre Just Took Her First Trip to Asia. She Came Back With Pictures

Marine Serre is one of the hottest names in Paris right now, not just because she’s an inventive and questioning designer (she undoubtedly is) or because she made the most terrific runway debut of the season this past February (says absolutely everyone). It’s also because Serre, who won last year’s LVMH Prize, has a particularly 21st-century way of seeing the world. There’s no fetishizing or exoticizing of cultures here. Instead, she’s respectful of differences while celebratory of similarities.

So when Vogue asked Marine Serre to keep a photo diary of her first-ever trip to Asia earlier this spring, a fast-forward travelogue through China, Japan, and Singapore, we didn’t expect picture-postcard perfection or heavily filtered prettiness created for an Instagram feed intended to induce travel envy. Instead, what we got is Serre’s eye on the experiences of her travels, both unfamiliar and unknown yet at the same time, real and recognizable. She’s always trying to see the universally shared aspects of our lives.

How long were you in Asia?


Basically, I spent a week in China, Japan, and Singapore. It was a really busy schedule; the Fédération [de la Haute Couture et de la Mode] in Paris invited me to go, and then I went to Dover Street Market in Beijing, Tokyo, and Singapore for a special opening of the Spring 2018 collection.

Were you jet-lagged?

In China, I felt quite good; it has quite a strong energy. In Shenzhen, Beijing, Shanghai . . . people were walking quickly and have a certain—you feel like they have a goal already, some place in their head where they’re going. I’d travel somewhere for a day, somewhere else for another day; it was nice but not a holiday. You just feel good for 24, 48 hours, and then you have to go. I kept changing countries every three days. But it’s also a funny sensation that can be appreciated. The coming back was harder. . . .

What struck you about how people looked, what they were wearing?

The way people dress there [in China] . . . fashion’s quite extreme and serious, it’s different from Paris. Obvious is a good word. They’re quite organized; they know exactly how to dress to be seen; it’s clear where everything from the top to the shoe came from. It was Fashion Week, so that might have made a difference. Something I learned, that I discussed with a lot of people there, was that there’s nothing magical for people in China in making a garment. I mean, for French people, when I talk to my friends, they’ll say, “How can you do that? How can you build a jacket yourself?” In China, I’d be talking to someone and they’d say, “Oh, I have a friend whose uncle works in a factory close by . . .” There’s a very frank point of view about the business side of fashion.

How about the scale of everything? I remember visiting Beijing in 2010 and everything felt unbelievably huge . . .

It’s true, it’s striking; things are constructed to be so vast—it’s like Movieland. You could really see that in the three cities I visited, that they’re all looking to the future. And they’re extremely busy and crowded; I felt a bit lost!


I always think of you as someone who sees the world in a very inclusive way . . .

It’s what I believe in, what I’m always trying to do. Never mind if I have no time and no energy and no holiday—I got the chance on this trip to talk to people about their daily lives, to lose myself in the streets and just take everything in. I felt pretty comfortable there. Most people spoke English, and it was easy to get around. A lot of things were different but we all have the same life. Once you get out of the center, where everything’s rich, things become normal pretty quickly. When I saw the guys repairing their scooters . . . I felt at home because I was finally seeing the other side of the palette.

And then you went to Japan?

I hadn’t realized it would be so different, and that it would also feel really big. The immediate difference I felt from China was how hard it was to be in contact with people; they serve you from the back or from behind a computer. And in the evening, no one seemed to be on the streets; I’d walk around and feel super alone! [Laughs] You’re living in this tower, a box in a really high building, you can’t open the window . . . it’s really futuristic, but to make contact wasn’t easy.

Was there any moment while you were there that made an impression?

In the park, with all the cherry blossoms, everyone grouped together, all sitting under the trees on cotton rugs; I found that really beautiful. I also saw some weird things, like people walking their dogs who were dressed in clothes; then it felt like I was really in Tokyo. And the uniforms on the metro, on the streets, exactly the same jackets . . . I understood the work of Rei Kawakubo. I said to Adrian [Joffe, of Comme des Garçons], “Okay, I get it now, I really get it!”

And Singapore?

It was ultra hot. I thought it couldn’t be that different, [but] it was a totally new story. Huge luxury . . . I’d never seen anything like it in my whole life. Okay, I’m not so old [laughs], but everything was super expensive, and at the same time, really mixed up. I went to the Mustafa Centre that’s open day and night; it feels like you’re in Disneyland. The image of the dress I sent you. . . . It was beautifully made out of paper, and I asked if it was meant to be worn and someone said no, it’s for when you die; it’s part of the tradition that material possessions are burned at death.

What did you bring back as souvenirs?

In Japan, some workwear garments, really beautifully made, some manga comics, some Stella Moon, and stupid things like keychains. But I’m not someone who buys so much. I just follow people on the streets, and take a lot of pictures of them!