If many of us understand the importance of textiles when it comes to innovative fashion design, only a few actually know what being a full-time textile designer entails. Turns out there’s a lot more to textile design than simply proposing fabrics to clients, or collaborating with fashion designers and other companies on specific projects. Textile design is also a field of boundless exploration, complete dedication and patient experimentation, as evidenced by the fascinating work carried out by Belgian textile designer Daniel Henry.

A graduate of La Cambre in Brussels, Henry was already working within the textile industry while he was still at school. Articulate, discreet and critical, he views himself as a die-hard textile minimalist, a definition that makes his work quite rare within an increasingly commercialized textile landscape. Lately, Henry’s expertise and talent came to the fore with Maison Margiela’s last Haute Couture show orchestrated by British designer John Galliano. That unforgettable show was a great reminder of what fantastic clothes can achieve and generate, as well as how striking textiles can beautifully serve a designer’s vision.

Henry walked away with the ‘Professional of the Year’ prize at the Belgian Fashion Awards, which took place in Brussels at the end of November. In a realm that is competitive and highly specialized, he fully deserves that recognition. We caught up with the gifted designer to evoke his unusual career path, collaborating with Maison Margiela’s team, and why he doesn’t like to use the word ‘textile art’.

Congratulations on your award, Daniel. Can you tell me a bit more about your career path as a textile designer?

When I started studying Fashion Design at La Cambre Mode[s] in Brussels, I understood at the end of the first year that I had to switch to Textile Design and stick to it. While I was still in my 4th year, I got to work for a company part-time doing textile research, so I already had one foot in the door. At the same time, I launched my own business as a freelancer, working from my parents’ attic.

What you do is extremely specialized. How do you find new clients in fashion?

A lot of it is word of mouth. When you have worked for certain designers or renowned maisons, people in the industry start knowing about you and your work. There are professionals I’ve known for decades and still work with today.

What were the first high fashion brands you started collaborating with?

Christian Lacroix was the first. Later I also got to work for Olivier Theyskens when he designed for Rochas and Nina Ricci.

That’s funny, because I used to sell his collections for Rochas in their Paris showroom. Olivier is incredibly talentend and I remember his shows for Rochas were spectacular.

I also worked with young designers, such as Sébastien Meunier for instance. He was launching his own brand and needed guidance on the textile front.

If one compares designer fashion now to what it was 20 or even 30 years ago, it feels a lot flatter in creative terms, and much more driven by sales and marketing. Do you observe the same impoverishment within your own field?

Yes, I do share your opinion, in the sense that the fibers themselves are less qualitative than they used to be. Another thing that encouraged this was the hectic pace of the industry, and how everything started speeding-up in fashion. There were more and more collections to create, and designers had less and less time to develop new things.

With Rochas, you were already working within what was referred to at the time as ‘Demi-Couture’, a very advanced -and yet artisanal- way to craft luxury designer clothes. How did you make the switch from this to Haute Couture and Maison Margiela?

I actually knew someone who integrated the studio led by John Galliano at Margiela. Before that, I had also worked for Raf Simons when he was designing at Dior. As far as Margiela goes, I got to do research for about 15 months and found it really exciting and pleasurable. It clearly showed that textile research requires time, which is something the fashion industry does not seem to understand. I obviously admire John Galliano’s knowledge of fashion and the fact that his imagination has no limitations. I worked from a series of visuals his team sent me, which is quite a seldom way to do things. My job was therefore to translate those references into textile research. I offered them several techniques and eventually they chose one, which was used for some of the show’s jackets.

How long did that development take?

Around 9 months. 5 styles ended up in the show, but 40 jackets had to be produced before Galliano got exactly what he wanted. It’s really like working in a laboratory, and many of those techniques will then be used as inspiration for the ready-to-wear and more commercial lines.

Textile art is a field that has developed considerably over the past decades. What’s your opinion on it?

First of all, I dislike the term ‘textile art’. For me, so-called textile artists may approach the field of textiles with lots of love, they nevertheless do not have a clear vision. In my artistic work, I do not want to underline the technical aspects of what is shown, but my conceptual -and narrative- approach instead. It’s about creative expression for me, not technique. That’s the reason why I don’t want to be labeled as a ‘textile artist’, even though I take part in such exhibitions, too.

How do you think the fashion industry could improve its relationship with textile design?

In fashion schools, students are trained to develop their egos and tell textile designers what to do, instead of working with them in a more equal way. A collaborative -and slightly more humble- approach would probably do them a lot of good.