Colour is rarely static.
A painted wall changes with exposure to sunlight. Stone darkens after rain. Fabrics fade through washing and use, while once-vibrant surfaces gradually lose their intensity.
We find these changes interesting, particularly the way time can create colour combinations that might otherwise seem unlikely.
Much of our colour research begins outside the studio.
During visits to Varese and Paris, we spent time observing buildings, interiors and everyday surroundings. Weathered plaster, faded terracotta, mineral surfaces, old timber and fragments of painted architecture became references for our developing palette.
What interested us was not simply the individual colours, but the relationships between them.
A faded red against an expansive pale wall. Dark green shutters surrounded by weathered stone. A small area of ochre interrupting an otherwise neutral surface.
These compositions often feel unplanned, yet remarkably balanced.
At DADAIST, we approach colour through a similar relationship between restraint and contrast.
Plaster whites, canvas tones, weathered greys and earth browns establish the foundation of our wardrobe. They are colours that sit naturally beside one another, allowing variations in texture and material to become more apparent.
Within this foundation, we introduce faded terracotta, muted rose, aubergine and ochre. Rather than using these colours to dominate a garment, we are interested in how they can subtly alter the character of an entire outfit.
Sometimes a small amount of colour is enough.
The material itself plays an equally important role.
A shade of brown expressed through wool has a different presence from the same colour on silk or leather. The weave, surface texture and way a material reflects light all influence how colour is perceived.
This is why we consider fabric and colour together during development. A colour that appears convincing on a small reference may behave differently once applied to a complete garment.
We are also interested in the visual character of ageing.
There is a particular quality to colours that appear softened by exposure and use. A faded surface can reveal subtle variations that are difficult to reproduce through a perfectly uniform finish.
This does not mean that every garment should be artificially distressed or made to appear old. Rather, we are drawn to the restraint, irregularity and depth often found in materials and environments that have existed for some time.
Our interest is in translating these observations into clothing without reproducing them too literally.
A weathered wall might inform the shade of a shirt. The contrast between stone and dark wood might influence the combination of a jacket and trousers. An isolated patch of colour might find its place in a lining, knit or small construction detail.
The reference does not need to be immediately recognisable.
Over time, these observations have helped us develop a palette built around familiarity, subtle contrast and material character.
We do not consider colour a fixed seasonal statement. It is something that continues to develop alongside the garments, the materials we discover and the places we encounter.
Perhaps the most interesting colours are not always those that demand our attention, but those we gradually learn to notice.
