Closing a cult brand: what you really learn when it ends
A candid reflection on endings, survival, and starting again.
As undecided as the internet seems about the correct way to write the brand’s name (is it all capitals or not?) designers An Vandevorst and Filip Arickx of A.F.VANDEVORST couldn’t be more decisive regarding the philosophy that underpinned their designs. The sum of its parts, A.F.VANDEVORST is a study of the two designers and their similarities, differences and contradictions.
From their first collection, featuring many of the codes for which the design duo would become known, A.F.VANDEVORST was stocked at STIJL, the iconic multi-label designer store located in the heart of Brussels. When word had it that the X010 boots would have a rerun recently, Sonja Noël, the store’s founder, didn’t have to think twice about carrying them anew as part of the store’s catalogue. It only felt right, a full-circle moment for both parties involved.
Now, with a retrospective exhibition at the Brussels Fashion & Lace Museum celebrating 40-plus years of STIJL (coinciding with the resurgence of the highly sought-after A.F. boots), now is the perfect moment to retrace the steps of the cult brand and what has been and, more so, what has yet to come for Vandevorst and Arickx. One thing is certain: the brand may not be relaunching, but they are certainly not done yet.
Chatting with Vandevorst, Arickx joins our conversation ‘a bit later’, which ends up being at the very end of our two hours. But the hours fly by when Vandevorst is speaking candidly on all things A.F.VANDEVORST and the industry at large.
You met on your very first day at the Royal Academy of Antwerp. How different would each of your trajectories have looked if it hadn’t been for that encounter?
It will forever remain a ‘what if’ question; however, we have wondered about it. To begin with, our encounter was a complete twist of fate, as I’m one year older than Filip. Before pursuing higher education, I had classical schooling in Latin and Greek. Never having had any training in drawing instilled a fear in me to apply. My mom was a visual art teacher, so there was a sense of familiarity with the arts. Growing up, I was surrounded and exposed to art. But on an educational level, I had a more theoretical than practical mind. Therefore, I decided on a preparatory year to fully immerse myself in all disciplines, from drawing and painting to sculpting. And so, by the time I applied for the Academy, Filip had just graduated and applied equally. We literally ran into each other in the corridor. It only took us one glance at each other to know we both were pursuing fashion.
I had followed the Antwerp Six since the beginning and was determined to launch a collection of my own one day. After graduating, Filip was part of the last batch that had to do their conscription, a bitter pill to swallow. However, I applied for an internship at Martin Margiela in Paris and, upon my return to Belgium, started at Dries Van Noten, where I would stay for six and a half years. By this point, the itch to start something of my own was all-consuming. I remember drawing a Joseph Beuys hat with the words ‘winter 98/99’, the year to come. Filip’s immediate reaction of ‘let’s do it’ startled me. The prospect of collaborating had just never occurred to me before. The Academy was, and still is, geared towards individual development. We lived together, and our workspaces faced each other; however, our work was not intertwined. The Academy didn’t offer or ever broach the possibility of collective work. Nor at Polimoda, where I’m currently affiliated. However, I can sense a shift coming on. Since I started, it might have been as little as two times that a duo emerged, but at least it’s a start. It also makes complete sense, as no one can pull it off alone in real life either. So why not make it a viable trajectory within the course?
Ultimately, it didn’t take me long to wholeheartedly accustom myself to Filip’s idea of joining forces. It was more a matter of being outdone in speed, which made me doubt. Despite what you often see within couples, we never tried to change one another. We always granted each other space for self-development and to be our own person. So, why not collaborate? A.F.VANDEVORST would have looked completely different as a solo venture. For one, it wouldn’t have been called that. (laughs) However, there is no doubt I would have pursued a collection at some point.
The story has it that both of you collected Red Cross memorabilia before you even met, independently of each other. How did this, to some rather peculiar obsession, come about?
My first introduction to the Red Cross was through artist Joseph Beuys, whose work repeatedly referenced it. As my mom was an avid admirer of his work, I familiarised myself with his visual language from a young age. Even to the point that, the year before I enrolled at the Academy, we travelled around the whole of Germany, visiting various museums to see Beuys’ work up close. Red crosses on felt and field hospitals were no strangers to his oeuvre.
For Filip, it all started with a polyclinic in his hometown that was having a clearance of its furnishings. Intrigued by the aesthetic, he decided to buy it; still unsure what to do with it, he stored it away. And it was precisely these objects that, later down the line, would make up the bulk of the scenography of A.F.’s The Smallest Travelling Store In The World, a real full-circle moment, and visionary to say the least.
So, implementing elements like Red Cross references into your work was almost a given. Does the same apply to other distinctive A.F. features, such as horse-riding, religion, and lingerie?
For me, it was already heavily ingrained within my graduation collection. For our final presentation, we were assigned a building, and each student was allocated a dedicated space. In total, we had to show twelve silhouettes. Inspired by hospital dorm rooms, I arranged it so that there were two rows of six hospital beds each. The aisle between both rows featured a long table covered with vases of flowers: some fresh, some wilted. Aside from this Red Cross aesthetic, rivets, felt, and the world of horse riding were equally part of my first full-fledged collection.
Brought up in such an artistic environment, my creative vision was formed early on. Whilst I had already carved out a vocabulary of my own, Filip had yet to discover what was possible in the first place. That’s where the major difference between us lies. Due to our different upbringings, he has always been much more experimental, whereas I’m more adamant. His parents owned a bakery before opening a cafe. Both meant Filip was used to being surrounded by people and ambience, a world of social interaction at odds with my mom’s introverted nature. She thrived on silence and calm; there wasn’t even any music playing at our house. Truly worlds apart. But it did mean that where I had always been allowed to be myself, the real Filip was only born once he enrolled at the Academy. He made good use of those four years, trying out as much as he could. It was time well spent, time I had been granted prior. We both embarked on the journey from different backgrounds, which showed in our approach to some extent.
The STIJL expo features a silhouette from your debut collection. Looking back, does this dress still feel relevant to the note you ended on as a brand? Could you see it work within your last few collections?
Most definitely. The brand’s timeless aesthetic truly dawned on us curating the SS2018 collection A.F.VANDEVORST ALWAYS+FOREVER, celebrating our 20th anniversary. The show consisted of 40 looks, one from every collection. It was Suzy Menkes herself who afterwards mentioned just how remarkable it was for something to remain as relevant as ever. We always designed based on our intuition. It wasn’t something we consciously considered, but being the living and breathing DNA of A.F. meant we couldn’t do anything other than stay true to ourselves. Never were we enticed to steer away from our initial direction. Composing this particular collection, we saw how easy it was to interchange shoes from all different seasons without detracting from the aesthetic. What probably also helped was that our collections always revolved around this specific woman we had in mind, and what she faced. That was our approach, rather than a theme such as the 70s, which immediately anchors something in time much more.
For us, our life and work were so intertwined that everything we saw, did, and experienced somehow found its way into our collections, organically. It was ever all-encompassing. We were committed to the fullest in everything we did, obsessively even. It always saddens me when I encounter students who lack this sense of internal vigour. I will always give it my all, whether for myself or someone else. Working for Dries Van Noten, I never reasoned: “it’s only for Dries, not me”. Filip and I are in it for the same reason: to fully immerse ourselves in a project we believe in. Our enthusiasm hasn’t tempered, even after closing the label. For every project we take on, big or small, we deliver. It’s a need more than anything, an urge to create. And so, the choice is never based on someone's resources, but purely on our inner drive. Nerves generally are a sign of how invested you are, as not being nervous probably would mean you're not as bothered. So, nerves are just a manifestation of your fervour to do well at something you're passionate about.
For AW2017-18, you were invited by the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode as part of the official couture schedule. In what way did this feel different from the normal showing you had done before?
We were neither a haute couture house nor did we work in that way, which made it quite a remarkable invitation. The main difference was the setting and the timing, which was unconventional for us, deviating from the ‘normal’ fashion calendar. It was nice, also in a way, to momentarily break the vicious circle and the rat race fashion can be. But in terms of the collection itself, we stayed true to our DNA. As mentioned, we simply wouldn’t know how to do it differently.
How important was it for you both to create an immersive experience, not just a collection of beautifully constructed garments?
Speaking for myself, it has been a priority since the start. Again, partly incited by my upbringing. From childhood on, I’ve seen numerous art installations, and they left a deep impression right from the beginning. I realised the eloquence of a meticulously thought-out concept very early on. After seeing a TV coverage story of the Academy, I switched from wanting to study theology to fashion design. Although I had never gravitated towards fashion in terms of actual creation, throughout my life, I had used it as a tool to express who I was. Music was my way into fashion. With a group of friends, mainly older than me and passionate or obsessive music freaks, I was introduced to all the latest bands. Like my mom submerged me into art, they cultivated me through music. The total package and spectacle of music, visuals, and setting touched me every concert as if it were the first time. Magazines like The Face, initially music-oriented, enhanced this connection to fashion as self-expression even more. All this combined made me susceptible to this sense of worldbuilding from the moment I had to present my work at the Academy, no matter how small the table assigned to me was.
If, for whatever reason, I could only present my work on a rack, I would either think of a solution or call it quits. This may sound radical, but Filip would agree with me. Telling a story from beginning to end is crucial to our design philosophy. Even when we faced seasons with financial difficulties or setbacks, we always found a way to make it work. It was, and still is, a non-negotiable.
Was there ever an overruling factor, either the evocative element or aesthetics?
Even if one or the other ever ‘threatened’ to take the upper hand, we always assured at least one moment that breached this supremacy in which the collection came into itself as one solid line-up. Ultimately, you want to show a coherent overview of what you made. This is Filip’s forte. At least, that’s how I see it. (laughs) But really, all credit to him. We seldom hired an external stylist, seeing as Filip excelled in this department. Whenever the collection started to come into the warehouse from all the different suppliers, I had difficulty seeing the forest for the trees. Shoved, as it were, on racks waiting to be rearranged, it looked to me as mass production, soulless garments. Luckily, Filip mastered the ability to immediately picture what it could look like once given a bit of TLC. In his mind, he curated it as we had initially envisioned it, making it all come together as one. And similarly, he plotted out all the shows.
In the early days, not a single task or decision was attributed to just one of us. A.F. was a duo, and this was reflected in the work organisation. After a while, however, it proved no longer feasible, as we lost so much valuable time not dividing tasks between the two of us. From then on, I was invested in designing the collection and Filip, in turn, in translating it to the outside world, ranging from collection presentations to installations and corner shops. Nothing saw the light of day before both approved; we were a duo. However, our blind faith meant we only needed to check in at the early stages and right at the end, when both worlds merged. For us, this proved to be the perfect formula.
Was it a matter of honour to draw a final line under the label, as opposed to trying to find a worthy successor for the brand?
The idea of someone else running a label still bearing our name without our involvement seemed counterintuitive. Aside from that, we remained a rather small house, so it was also out of the question in our case. But in terms of the actual decision to stop, there was never one reason; it never is when it comes to such a tough call. However, one of the main factors was the shift in the fashion retail landscape. As mentioned, we designed following our gut feeling. When, suddenly, buyers would come into the showroom with laptops full of stats and minima.
We understood where they were coming from. To stay afloat themselves, they simply had no choice but to adhere to the industry’s whims. The uprising of social media and big conglomerates was stifling for independent brands. There’s something to say for social media, both good and bad. On the one hand, it democratised fashion as never before. It no longer belonged to an insider elite. At the same time, it meant the ins and outs of collections were out there for people to discover at will. For stores, this implied that customers were now hyper-aware of their curation, specifically the pieces not selected. This is a natural process; stores don’t have unlimited budgets to purchase every item from every collection. But so, their role as the initial curator of a collection had been snatched away from them, as everything was now readily available for everyone who pleased. Cornered to please and cater to the customer, they’d feel this urge to buy one piece of every sample. Understandable from their perspective. However, in turn, our collection and production became increasingly more fragmented. Previously, there would normally always be one bestseller within a collection, equalling larger-scale production. As a favour in return, so to speak, the manufacturer would also be open to producing smaller batches of other pieces. Manufacturers were less inclined to commit when the shift to small runs hit the market.
In addition, big brands started to impose minimum quotas, which, of course, had a huge backlash on independent brands. With the limited budget that multi-brand stores are left with, smaller brands are practically ruled out. And when they do decide to place an order, return on investment is on top of their mind, so it’s often based on last season’s bestseller, which is no guarantee, as fashion is inherently unpredictable and volatile. Big marketing and merchandising were never part of our plan; we weren’t cut out for it. We would have had to outsource it. Either this or decide it was perhaps time for something else. And so, the seed was planted. Ultimately, we didn’t want to cater to capitalist demands. We had the chance to end on a high note whilst we still could, so we took it. This also gave us time to strategise, phasing out who to tell what, when, and how, still able to pay out manufacturers and suppliers, and find positions for our in-house team elsewhere.
How did you relate to the role of a store like STIJL within this narrative?
Like any brand, we have experienced lowlights. The same goes for multi-label stores. Knowing you have each other’s backs is extremely reassuring, especially in those moments. To call a store like STIJL a partner was very meaningful to us. Surely, you understand not every collection is your strongest one, or completely to the taste of Sonja [Noël] or her clientele. And sometimes, it’s also the buyer who comes in with a different vision for your collection. Sonja and A.F. shared a similar sense of ‘going with our guts’, which is probably why we had such an incredible understanding right from the start. Equally remarkable as a person, she was in her role as a buyer.
There was this one time, I still vividly remember. Inspired by religion and the experience of faith, that season’s collection featured several purple accents. However, upon seeing it, Sonja decided to buy head-to-toe purple silhouettes exclusively. Of course, that was not how we envisioned it. We saw it unravelling and looked at each other in despair, unsure whether or not to say something. But her enthusiasm was only kindled as we attempted to talk some sense into her, which, at the time, was how we saw it. I think she must have regretted it afterwards, though. (laughs) I still recall each buyer’s curation unfolding as the collection came into the warehouse from the manufacturers. There was no escaping which rack was STIJL’s; I think I never saw so much purple at once. But it’s so telling of Sonja’s determination. Regardless of what others may think or advise, she will stick with her gut, which is only to be admired. She was there with us every step of the way, and the fact that STIJL was also Belgian was the cherry on top.
Do you align with words such as ‘utilitarian’ and ‘fetish’ to describe your work?
Duality and contrast are key to A.F.VANDEVORST. As there are two of us and we are both so different, naturally, a certain tension or interaction was inserted into our collections. This clash was always our strong point. We sought out this field of tension, leveraging our discrepancies. And in a similar organic way, fetish became part of our design language. Not intentionally, but working with rivets and references to horse harnesses, among others, it wasn’t that much of a leap to see the connection to the world of fetish. It was a matter of putting two and two together.
In most cases, it is outsiders who attribute certain words to designers, not so much the designers themselves. As mentioned, for us, it simply emerged from within. We’ve never been one for buzzwords, like sustainability these days. Unfortunately, it is nothing but pure marketing and greenwashing. I don’t have any other way of putting it. It must not stop at empty words. Way back when, Sonja started her sustainable collections-focused store, Haleluja, with all the right intentions. However, being ahead of her time, her approach and concern for sustainability were deemed irrelevant.
Don’t speak about what you don’t know; that's what I advise students. And if you do decide to go down the sustainability route, clearly state where you’re coming from, or what your intentions are, long term. The fact remains that most students won’t have the means to source all sustainable materials and techniques. But then disclose this as part of your process. Assuming students are capable of full transparency is a long shot. However, they are the ones reproved when something isn’t done perfectly in coherence with their vision, whereas the big players in the industry can get away with basically anything. It’s toe-curling, to me. The balance is ever in the latter’s favour, and those who could denounce their actions don’t. They exist by the grace of marketing. It’s no different in fashion than in other areas of life. Greediness is fuelled by power and often leads to bribing, to the detriment of the so-called cause, in this case, sustainability. What I’m trying to say, I suppose, is not to let others’ hypocrisy get to you. As long as you do good by those behind your product so that nobody is exploited to market it, that already goes a long way.
A pair of boots ultimately put you on the map. Did you ever consider that they would become such a collector’s item out of everything you created?
This year marks 25 years since that first pair. Predicting how well something will do is impossible. If only it were this easy. Often, I hear stories of brands telling their teams to create the next new it-bag. But that’s just not how it works, is it? For us, it turned out to be the boots which had something that appealed to people, and still to this day. What we were aware of at the time and what was a deliberate decision was not just to stop at clothing, but to design with a full-fledged wardrobe in mind. My ideal wardrobe. (laughs) This included shoes, down to lingerie, which we also implemented from the first collection.
It has been five years since the label ceased to exist. What made you decide to rerun the infamous X010 boots now?
Over the years, we were repeatedly asked whether we could bring them back. And not exclusively by former A.F. retailers, a high demand also came from vintage sellers. They are frequented regularly by people scouring for them, and when they have a pair in, it’s a matter of minutes, so to speak, before they’re gone. We never gave it proper thought to bring them back; it wasn’t something we were ever planning on doing. Not until a few months back, when Filip, for some reason, mentioned it would have been 25 years since that first pair. And with it being 2025, it seemed like this ‘now or never’ momentum. So, we contacted the originating manufacturer, who was immediately on board; they’re even made using the same materials and last. But it’s a one-off. People shouldn’t get their hopes up for a relaunch of the label. (laughs) Nonetheless, it’s heartwarming how well-received the announcement was, beyond expectations.
What has the future in store for An Vandevorst and Filip Arickx? Anything we can expect or look forward to, both fashion and non-fashion-related.
Filip’s first venture after the closure was Nightfall. Originally found as an A.F. offshoot lingerie collection, Filip rebranded to a line of adult toys. Now, he’s fully dedicated to the art and craft of glassblowing. As compulsive as we were as designers, as compulsive he now is in terms of this project. I’m practically sure it’s on his mind every waking minute. But it’s so beautiful to witness his preoccupation with mastering this new skill. I can only imagine how rewarding a student he must be, constantly challenging himself and his teachers. It has been about five years since he started, and at some point, he will start sharing it with the world. It’s not only glassblown objects. In line with A.F.’s worldbuilding, he envisions whole installations. It’s the first time we get to do things separately without each other’s involvement. Although it might have taken some time to get used to, this switch in dynamics is also nice; each now has their passion project to focus on.
As far as I’m concerned, my story at Polimoda is not finished for the foreseeable future. And there’s my DJ stint; a full-circle moment, as music is where it all started for me. Walter [Van Beirendonck] phrased it perfectly not long ago after one of my sets, saying he was fascinated by how I layered different elements. I now do with music what I used to do whilst in fashion. I’m only at the very early stages of DJing; I haven’t mastered editing or all the software. I always get a bit of stage fright when faced with the whole installation. However, I try to put my spin on it, offsetting something that feels rather harsh by layering it over with something high-contrast, making it softer overall, and vice versa. I thrive in figuring out how to alter the feeling, rhythm, or warmth a number can evoke so it works for me. It reminds me of designing a collection. It wasn’t as Filip and I haphazardly put together black and white just to obtain contrast. It was much more about sensing what worked and what didn’t, repeatedly finding the right balance. Ultimately, there isn’t much difference between my thought processes when designing or DJing.
I did have one specific question for Filip, but maybe you can answer it as well. As you mentioned, after graduation, he entered the military for his conscription. Has his service influenced the brand’s militant aesthetics, or was this already a motive in his work prior?
An: People tend to frame uniforms as curtailing one’s personality. When, in fact, I think with all the same core to start from, the differences become all the more clear. In the sense of how to make it your own, whether by leaving it as is or customising it to your preferences, shorter, longer, etc.
At last, Filip arrives mid-question and joins the conversation, which is drawing to an end. Finishing each other’s sentences, he jumps in and shortly elaborates on the visual language of uniforms, one of, if not the taglines of A.F.VANDEVORST.
Filip: You know Vanessa Beecroft? Well, being part of such repetitiveness, that’s what I felt the moment I stepped foot on my first parade ground, all decked out in my military uniform. That’s how I experienced it; I saw the beauty of vestimentary repetition. But it wasn’t novel to my way of thinking or anything. What it did do, however, was enhance this innate appeal to uniformity and universality. Being in it makes you more aware of certain details and elements, which otherwise might be lost on you. You only learn to understand the quintessence of a uniform by living in it.











An is such an inspiring figure and amazing teacher. Reading this article made me reconsider her critics and teaching in a different light, appreciating them even more