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Eske Schiralli

KEY WORDS

people, burnout, feel, fashion, industry, reject, realizing, question, life, thinking, moments, friends, memes, big, teachers, collection, taught, jobs

Originally immersed in the world of fashion, I've transitioned into sharing my love for the craft through teaching sewing and strategy rather than design and production. I find joy in sparking curiosity and sharing an unwavering belief in the power of lifelong learning. Drawing on my industry experience, I now dedicate myself to educating aspiring artists, equipping them with both technical skills and a futurist mindset. I dream of one day providing a space where creative individuals can feel empowered to explore their personal growth and contribute to collective success.

This conversation took place in November 2022.

So, what are you working on right now? Maybe we can start there.

I think I'm working on too much. Let's just say that, which kind of leads back to the burnout that I was talking about before [we started recording]. I mean, these bags in front of me, beside you, kind of all around the studio. I’ve been working on a mini collection. That's something that I've been doing for the past two and a half years. Aside from everything else I'm doing, it's the only thing my heart is in right now. Yeah, everything else has led to burnout. This collection is, what's the word you used earlier? Energizing. And it's not just the work; it's her as a client and her as a person, her facilitating this for me. She's been a dream to work with. So, yeah, it's been nice.

It's always encouraging to hear about artists' ability to find each other. How often has that happened since you got into the industry?  

I mean, collaboration happens quite often. In the beginning, I wanted to reject it because I wanted to do everything myself. I wanted to be the superstar who could do everything. But I was younger, much more ego driven, much more of an attachment to the tangible stuff. As I get older, I'm realizing that stuff actually doesn't matter. The physical; making pants, jackets, bags, whatever, that stuff doesn't matter. It's the idea. The thing is just a vessel for an idea or a feeling. The collection is just a packaged version of an idea or feeling you want to get across to someone else. That's the art form; that's the craft. So I wanted to do all that by myself. I don't know why.

Did you always feel that you could do it all by yourself?

I think so. Kind of a naive feeling, you know, when you're new to something. I remember when I was a kid doing something for the first time. I mean, some stuff you would appreciate from your parents, but other stuff, you're like, I want to do this by myself.

“I found out that even if I don't like the work or am not connected to the work, I'm always connected to the people I work with.”

– Eske Schiralli

I brought that naive mentality to the beginning stages of my career, or whatever you want to call it. I was like, I want to do it by myself, I want to go fast, I want to go far. And the more I started working with people, I was actually like, I do want to go fast, and I do want to go far, but I no longer want to do that by myself. It's boring. It's isolating. It's energy-consuming. That leads to burnout too. I naturally like working with other people, and I found out that even if I don't like the work or am not connected to the work, I'm always connected to the people I work with. This goes back to my first jobs, retail jobs, or the minimum wage jobs you had as a teenager. Everyone dismisses the work or doesn't like their work, but the people you work with, they're the best. Good colleagues or good collaborators make the whole project better; as we know from working together on the Banded Purple thing, that team was amazing. It was really hard work that we had to do in such a short amount of time. But the more I did stuff like that, the more I realized I wanted to be working with other people.


I'm finding out that every project is short-term, has a fast turnaround time, has high demands and, most of the time, pretty high stress. I don't know why that's the nature of our business as creatives. Clients want the biggest ask with no budget and want it tomorrow. I'm realizing more and more like this is normal. It's not the exception to the rule. So if I'm going to be going through these really hard things, I want to equally distribute the workload amongst other people who, you know, person X is really good at that skill, person Y is really good at that, and person Z is really good at this, and I'm good at this skill and let's somehow pool that. Then we pool our energies, our personalities and then at the end of it, sure, I might not love the work, but I love these people; I love working with them and growing with them.

In the last bit, how does the perception of your work versus what you were describing fit together? On the outside, I feel like people see a lot of creative professionals think, oh, they're doing these big projects; they must have so much money or a big budget; it's fun all the time, it's this, it's that, and then the reality of it is different.

Great question. Yeah. It's hard, let me say that. First and foremost, a lot of this is uncharted territory, not just for me. It's uncharted territory for a lot of us. Our parents hustled; they worked their asses off in all these fields that they were just more or less doing to make money to support their families to give us these opportunities – I'll even say, luxuries and privileges to be able to do stuff like this. So now that we're doing stuff like this, this hasn't been done before. Or if it has, it usually comes from people with a lot of money, big companies, big entities, big personalities that had backing or were born into privilege or whatever. So now that we're this new generation of people doing this wild west of creative stuff, no wonder there's burnout, no wonder there are these questions or, like, exposing and being transparent about all these processes, because that was never there before. Or if it was, it was for all those people that I just listed.

“Whereas now, going through such a big burnout, I'm putting my foot down and being like, it doesn't have to be like this because I really don't want this. I don't want it now, and I don't want it in the future. So I'm looking to other things and ways outside of this industry, a completely opposite feeling to what this gives me, if that makes sense. This is the first time I'm saying a lot of this or have vocalized it this way. So if it sounds like I'm saying it for the first time, it's because I am.”

– Eske Schiralli

So building off of that, as jobs have gotten bigger for you and there are more eyes on you, how does that feel, and how has it changed your relationship with your practice?

As our generation is taking the reins on these new fields of creative stuff, there's all eyes on us all the time. And then, with social media being a 24/7 news cycle. It can be pretty anxiety-inducing, not gonna lie. It can be pretty heavy and a lot of pressure, but it's almost like, and I've spoken to some other people too, we feel as much of that as there is, there's also this little tiny spark of responsibility if that's the right word. The spark of something that's like, okay, we have this bigger, grander idea; that's the bigger picture. Let's go through this bullshit that we have to go through now because we so strongly believe in that bigger picture, and while we're doing it, we so strongly believe in showing that process and being transparent about how we're getting there because that never existed before us. So yeah, my answer is, it's really hard, it's really anxiety-inducing, and that shouldn't be the prerequisite to getting to that stage. I feel like the people who can go through that amount of stress or that amount of energy, the mix of good and bad, and come out the other side with a tasteful and I don't want to say positive, it's too much of a broad stroke statement, but a beneficial product or service for more people than just themselves, if the project is bigger than themselves and they came out of this shit show, the process, the industry, then that thing really deserves to be there. It really deserves your attention. It really deserves your attention across the board. It could be negative criticism; as long as people are talking about it, that's a measurement of success. Because then they critique that and apply it to their own practice, they make themselves better, the industry gets better, and people's lives get better. And then if it's positive critique, it's like, whoa, we're taking something very good from this. I feel like most learning experiences come from really bad situations, and we're like, oh, fuck I gotta learn from this. But we rarely stop after a good project or a good moment and celebrate our wins and celebrate that positivity. We roll on to the next thing without really fully processing it, although that's just as much of a learning experience as the bad things. So yeah, it's a mixed bag. My answer is a mixed bag of feelings.

Yeah, and on that sort of criticism comment, or whatever gets people talking, I was at a talk last week that stressed the importance of infighting within an industry or within a group of people coming together over shared values. If you're able to openly disagree or, you know, have those tough conversations, it's good. It's identifying that you're not in a cult or something. We're allowed to discuss and move forward and grow, hopefully.

And, yeah, just to be transparent about that. Too much positivity, or this idea that we're sold, especially on social media, this curated idea of only the good moments get through, and only the good moments are shown and talked about, that's toxic positivity. The positive stuff can be great, but if it's unrealistic goals to attain, that gets toxic. Then the next generation younger than us is like, oh, I want that. And then we're like, that doesn't even exist. On paper, it looks like my resume's X, Y, Z, but there are many moments in between that are anything but positive or they would actually be commercial failures or the opposite of commercial, personal failures. That stuff isn't really spoken about.

I totally agree.

Although it can be hard, it's hard to say, " Oh, I failed, or I didn't meet my mark." I want to be vocal about it, but that shit scares the - it scares me so much. It scares me to show my wins and my losses. Because then there's oversharing, or am I not sharing enough? Did I post enough this week? That kind of stuff.

Yeah. That's an interesting distinction of sharing on social media versus sharing with your pals or your chosen family or your family. I always appreciate your Instagram shares because your stories are really funny and lighthearted. Ironically, the ones that stick with me are not to do with your work and more with your personality showing through and that lightheartedness and even dark comedy at times with memes and stuff. Yeah. It's real. I think it's the contrast and how we're all not just the one thing we're showing on Instagram.

No, yeah, we're all very multifaceted. Yeah. It's not just about the work.

“There's also this little tiny spark of responsibility, if that's the right word. Let's go through this bullshit that we have to go through now because we so strongly believe in that bigger picture, and while we're doing it, we so strongly believe in showing that process and being transparent about how we're getting there because that never existed before us.”

– Eske Schiralli

Yeah. In the process of where you're at now in your career, have you gotten more comfortable sharing the losses or viewing losses or now that you're working with other people?

Yeah, I would say yes. The more I get into it, I'm more comfortable talking about it, but I'm becoming less the more I use social media. That's lending to burnout too. Social media is a full-time job. I use it to promote my work or get it out there in general. Basically, I'm on this thing a lot for work, whereas when it first came out, it was a way to connect with people and network with people, whatever that means. Now I'm doing all this [points at projects around his studio], and then I'm online in this digital space, also doing all this on a different scale. I'm more comfortable, but I'm also like, it's too much all the time. It doesn't feel normal to be exposed and to have exposure at that rate. When I was younger, I was like, this is amazing; I can show off my work, connect with people, network, and do this and that. I still, in some regard, feel that about social media. It's great for that. But I'm checking my phone constantly, or I'm neglecting real-life experiences for this digital space that is also very real, but it's dramatized a little bit, too; it's curated, and that's not accurate. It's not an accurate representation of life or work or all that stuff.

I feel like sometimes Instagram, or Tik Tok or whatever it is, steals our attention instead of us choosing to give it, and that's when it feels the worst.

So much. I read this term, maybe a month ago, two months ago, "attention economy." We live in an attention economy where we are the product; the app is just a way of giving us a platform to be the product and then sell it back to other people. And I was like, Holy fuck, like, Yeah, we went from an economy of goods and services to provide to people to an attention economy, AND goods and services. It's so overwhelming. Again, it's a mixed bag. It's so many feelings across the board all the time.

Yeah. You said making something bigger than yourself in our discussion about these platforms. I feel like social media is not really generative in that "bigger than self" way; it sort of runs off the same loop.

The algorithm only feeds content that gets engagement. You post something that's a beautiful piece of writing, but then the photo doesn't gain people's visual attention, then your beautiful writing gets dismissed and thrown to the wayside. Or vice versa, the visual content is beautiful, but there's no substance to it. I'm always like, what am I consuming? What is happening? Or I'll be mindlessly scrolling and mindlessly consuming, and I won't ask those questions. And that's also a problem.

“I finally had a spark of something. It wasn't a big spark, but it was the most curious I had been in a long time since skateboarding or fucking around and finding out when you're 12 and 13. That spark was there. So I was like, I'll pursue this a little bit. And the more I pursued it, the more curious I was, the more questions I answered and the more things I did. ”

– Eske Schiralli

Yeah. So much choice is taken away in that algorithmic process. It requires so much energy to bring your active attention to it. And yeah, long-form anything is just such a hard sell.

Long-form anything doesn't exist anymore, I don't think. We want to drop singles for everything. Musicians drop singles, artists drop singles. If you drop an album, no one listens to the full thing or whatever that piece of work is. I've noticed that myself. I'm like, I'm going to do that too; I'm not going to drop collections anymore. I have to put in all this work, energy, time and money, which I don't have, into this thing that people will only consume bits of anyways. Why would I do that? The big guys can do that. They have the money and the time, but I'm just going to drop singles, and then eventually, those singles make an album. And then people get the full picture or the full sound.

Interesting. So when has that shift happened?

In the past two years. The beginning of the pandemic is when I noticed it, and then I noticed other people noticing it. Consumer behaviour was completely changed with the pandemic, like, everything out the window. All these major companies and trend forecasting, basically years of research or money and whatever, into what's the next big, big thing? Or like, what's next season or next next season's thing? Even myself, all these analytics that I'm constantly looking at. All that I thought I built just out the window. So at the beginning of the pandemic, most major companies were promoting sweatpants because we were inside, doing nothing. Or if we were outside, we wanted to show off our sweatsuits or lounge outfits. Really, no one cared; it's not we wanted to show them off, but no one cared to dress up. So I was like, fuck, my stuff is the stuff you dress up in. So there's that. And then I don't have the funds to drop a full album or collection. So let's just drop a couple things. And then, even when I did a "collection," it was essentially four products. It was two variations of jeans, a shirt and a bandana. Compared to most traditional collections, and even my former ones, that's nothing. That's an EP. It's four songs. So not that it was one song, but still very few compared to before. Yeah.

Did you always think you were going to go into making clothes? And did you always see yourself as an artist?

“I reject the toxic behaviours and the problematic “prerequisites,” things that we have to do to be part of this community or part of an industry, not just fashion, but across the board. I reject all that stuff. I formerly thought I had to deal with that to be in this industry, but I realized I can still be in it but teach and do things in a different way.”

– Eske Schiralli

Woah, the second question's very difficult. First question, no. Long story short, it was a process of elimination. Even to this day, I feel like I'm still floundering a little bit. When I did find fashion and developed an affinity for it or a skill set around it, I still considered myself floundering in life and a late bloomer. I tried a whole bunch of other things. You know, when you're in high school, and in grade 12 you apply to universities, or colleges or trades or like, whatever, everyone around me was like, I'm going to do this, I'm gonna do that, and I'm like, how the fuck do you guys know? Then I just applied to stuff, and I didn't get accepted to anything. I got accepted to one thing, which was a super random new program that was accepting everybody. So I was like, oh, I don't feel special, and I don't even want to do this thing. So I was floundering then. Even when I got into OCAD, it felt like the most "right" situation or the most "right" choice, but it wasn't like, "this is it." Everyone else around me, around us, society-wise, or friend groups or social circles, everyone seemed to have their "it", their thing, their passion or whatever. I was like, I don't have that. I liked hanging out with my friends, and I legitimately didn't know what I wanted to do.

So then, going through school, I got into fine arts, and I didn't declare my major. Because, again, I didn't know what that was. I knew maybe something creative, and if I changed my mind, I was at this school of art and design, so I could pivot, and I did. I went from art to industrial design. And I wasn't like, "I love industrial design." I like industrial design, don't get me wrong, but my one best friends Daniel Sookdeo that I've known since elementary school, we would have smoke breaks on the side of the building, and he was an industrial designer. He would always talk about it, and I was like, maybe that's what I gotta do; sounds pretty cool. So when I went into it, I was like, this is not it either. People are designing these things, chairs and stuff, and they're so into it, and I'm like, I don't hate it, but I didn't resonate with it. I never felt a connection. Then, in my second last year of school, I bought a pair of jeans that were a little bit more expensive than what I was used to buying, which was $30- $40, Old Navy jeans. And I was like, wait, why? Why is this other pair of jeans much more expensive. Through that curiosity of looking at all the stuff, I was like, this is kind of cool. This feels like something is here. I finally had a spark of something. It wasn't a big spark, but it was the most curious thing I had been in a long time since skateboarding or fucking around and finding out when you're 12 and 13. That spark was there.

So I was like, I'll pursue this a little bit. And the more I pursued it, the more curious I was, the more questions I answered and the more things I did. And the more things I did and showed off, like through Instagram or social media, or just like to friends, the more other people started to validate those feelings I was having, which I'd never had before. I had support, don't get me wrong, my parents were extremely supportive, friends, everyone around me. No matter what I was doing, and I've had many career paths, everyone was always supporting me, but I never had the validation. So when I got into soft goods, and fashion and garments and clothing, I had the spark, I had the curiosity, I had this developing skill set, and then a design skill set from school, and the validation from this community around me saying that's something we can latch onto or relate to. And I was like, holy fuck, like, what is that feeling? You know? And now my studio mates and friends and family and like our creative circles and community like, we all get this varying levels of validation through conversation and communication and connection of any sort, and just talking about this kind of stuff, but back then that was a completely foreign feeling to me. So I was like, I think I think this is the path.





Fast forward to now, it's feeling like it's not my path. Again, I'm floundering. I'm like, holy, this feeling all over again. But I'm still in this kind of burnout era, or whatever you want to call it. I think I'm at the end of it, where at the beginning it was very scary. I was rejecting everything. I felt like I was mourning my former self, an identity crisis a little bit. I attached myself to what I do in a healthy and unhealthy way. "I don't like what I do, so therefore, who am I?" So I was like, holy fuck. But the other end of the burnout is excitement for what is next. I don't know what is next, but there's that excitement for what it is. Even though I found this fashion thing and I've gone through with it, I don't think this is my "it." Making, designing, and doing all this stuff is not my "it." But teaching about this stuff is my "it," and I don't know what that looks like, if it's traditional classroom or workshops or anything, whatever that looks like. I just know I would like to take my learnings and all this stuff and package it and get it the fuck out there.

While my door is open, figuratively, literally, as soon as that's open, I'm through, so I'm pulling everyone through. If that door is open, and I can keep it open as long as possible, I'm pulling as many people through as I possibly can. I never had that, and a lot of people I talk to don't have that. If I can be that, I think it scratches an itch or checks off all these boxes and utilizes my skill set; it's bigger than myself. I want to do this stuff with a purpose or with some legacy that I can pass on and continue making the next generation or, like, the next whatever, so it's easier or better for them. I don't know. I don't know what it looks like.

Have you taught before?

I'm just starting to do workshops here and there. I'm really bad at it. I'm really bad at teaching. I'm ironically learning how to teach. It's weird. It's amazing because I'm always baffled at the end of a workshop or a class. Some students are like, hey, I did this thing this way. And I'm like, that's not how I taught you, but that's so cool. I'm having these moments where I'm learning which I did not anticipate. I was like, holy fuck, all these new feelings, and both really good and bad feelings. That one is a good one. But, yeah, I started to teach, and I think that's the direction. Again, I just don't know what that looks like.

I don't know if you feel this way as well, and I don't think we appreciate this until maybe later in life when you're a mature student or something, but my favourite teachers are the ones that are equally learning from you. They provide the playground and all of these resources. They're moderating, making sure no one gets hurt, and guiding students through conflict within themselves or whatever it is, using their lived experience. Then there are these real technical skills that they can offer too, but for kids who have that passion and don't have access, the best teachers just provide the playground. You're providing the playground. I have some professors now who are researchers and really smart, but I wouldn't say they're teachers. They just sort of regurgitate their study.

I remember those teachers. Yeah, they're good; they are so knowledgeable. But they don't get it across in a way that maybe the students can latch on to. My favourite teachers have always been ones that I could really relate to, the way they taught and the energy around their approach or whatever you want to call that, their curiosity. You know when someone's super into something? And you're like, I have no idea what they're talking about or what that thing is, but I'm so into it because they're so into it. That is what I love. And the teachers who had that, I was like, I love the subject, and I love this class. Yeah, that would be an amazing goal. I never stopped to think about that. But I want that to be one of my goals.

“Whether we know it or not, we change as a person, then our work inevitably changes. It's a nice ego check. It's a nice humbling idea.”

– Eske Schiralli

Yeah, and I think those teachers who are the best, it's also hardest on the learner because it's really what you make of it, and you gotta meet the teacher halfway. But it's awesome when you really love what you're doing, or you have that drive as a student because you're just like, okay, I'm going to try my best, and I have teachers who give me the leeway and the playing room, and the support, and that's when the good stuff-

I imagine a playground the way you're describing. Like monitoring the students or whatever but just with this kind of design, fashion stuff. That's the goal.

Yeah, like, jump off the slide. Just try it out. Yeah, that's cool. That's really cool.

Yeah, that's where I'm currently at. I reject the industry; I reject the toxic behaviours and the problematic "prerequisites," things that we have to do to be a part of this community or part of an industry, not just fashion, but across the board. I reject all that stuff. I formerly thought I had to deal with that stuff to be in this industry, but I realized I can still be in it but teach and do things in a different way. All that stuff that I don't like, the thing that's missing is care or intention. I'm like, actually, guys, caring is really cool. Caring is cool. Intention is cool. And this, like weird, I don't even know what to call it, hyper consumer capitalist anti-environment, like, the gatekeeper, all these negative things about the industry are like that. I have to isolate those and be like, I hate that, so what am I going to do about it? I think that's the other side of burnout for me, where I go with it.

“We take these jobs that are not good for us, and maybe not even good for the clients, or I'll go a step further and say the industry or the world at large, it's not good for anyone, but we take it because they need the work fulfilled, we need the money fulfilled. I don't want to keep saying yes to that. I can't. It's not sustainable. And then, what example am I? How am I leading by example if I take all this stuff I don't resonate with? And then it affects me, and other people looking at me are like, well, that's a measurement of success. I don't want that to be a measurement of success. I don't want that to be the prerequisite for getting to the next stage in your career.”

– Eske Schiralli

The care piece is interesting because, yeah, are you willing to give up caring and your values to be able to adapt to moving quickly and not build things that are bigger than yourself?

A lot of people would say yes to that. Which is shitty.

Yeah. Are you able to see that shitty stuff quicker now? In people who approach you or your jobs?

Totally, yeah. I can see it quicker, and I'm doing stuff differently. Before I would say yes, or I would accept it and go through it and be like, wow, I hated that; that really took a toll on me. It was a lot of that which led to burnout. But I had to make rent. Again, it's back to the hustle. We take these jobs that are not good for us, and maybe not even good for the clients, or I'll go a step further and say the industry or the world at large, it's not good for anyone, but we take it because they need the work fulfilled, we need the money fulfilled. So, I'm seeing it quicker, and I'm like, I don't want to keep saying yes to that. I can't. It's not sustainable. And then, what example am I? How am I leading by example if I take all this stuff I don't resonate with? And then it affects me, and other people looking at me are like, well, that's a measurement of success. I don't want that to be a measurement of success. I don't want that to be the prerequisite for getting to the next stage in your career. But then again, it's like I said, it's such a wild west that we don't know what the actual right way or the best way is. So we take anyway, we take any route.

Does it scare you to say that?

Yeah, for sure. Yeah, it scares me, but it excites me too. Now's the time; things are so rapidly changing and building and evolving now that if we're going to do something positive, or do something intentional or productive, now's the time to do it, to really set that foundation. It's hard as fuck, and that's the scary part, the vulnerability we have to have with ourselves in our community. That's really scary. But once that step is taken, something evolves or is better for someone else or a group of others. That's the exciting part. It makes the scary part worth it, hopefully. But yes, still very scary; that's a super real thing.

And sounds like, though scary, I'm hearing a piece of not knowing that you're not alone.

Yeah, I mean, sometimes it feels like you're alone, but yeah, we're technically not.

I know with art and its perception, there can be judgement around asking yourself, what if I decide to do something different? I find there's a lack of allowance for complexity, of being allowed to change your mind and do something else. When you have thoughts of, I don't want to do this, or doubting moments where you're rejecting, I'm oversimplifying this, but rejecting this thing that you've built up, how important are the people that aren't in the industry in your life? And have they shaped your ability to be able to step back and make those decisions?

Yeah, they've been pivotal. I've realized that my work is not my life, which I used to think the opposite. I was like, my work is my life, and my output is my personality or my identity, and that was a toxic trait. I mean, aspects of it for sure, who you are, come out in your work, but I used to think I was only my work, and vice versa. Whereas now, my life is so much more complex and multifaceted and richer than just my work. And not just me, like everybody, we're all like that; the people outside of the industry, the people I don't work with, friends, family, even acquaintances. I live in a bubble of my studio and home, so I need that outside perspective; that's reality. The fashion industry is relatively small compared to other industries and the world at large. I need that outside perspective because I'm only in that relatively small world and my chosen smaller world, between my studio and my home. So yeah, I'm starting to open up and embrace that I'm much more than my work.

That made me think about an artist, Julian Klincewicz, who's experienced a lot of success now, but I remember listening to a podcast with him when he first started getting picked up about how the high fashion world, its success relies on people thinking that it exists outside of this space that we exist in, it's just put on this high pedestal.

Totally, and for what? Like, why? And it's so referential as an art form; it's probably the most referential art form. Collections and entities and companies and bodies of work and artists and designers, they're always referencing something else, which references something else; it just keeps going. And if you're not on the inside, it feels a bit exclusionary. Which leads back to my question, like, why? Why is it put on this pedestal when it can be so exclusionary? Like, that sucks.

“It's hard as fuck, and that's the scary part, the vulnerability we have to have with ourselves in our community. That's really scary. But once that step is taken, something evolves or is better for someone else or a group of others. That's the exciting part. It makes the scary part worth it, hopefully.”

– Eske Schiralli

Yeah, it's like that drive where people want to be included and feel that you have to be a certain way instead of just yourself.

Totally. There are so many aspects that are wrong with the business. Yeah, classism, elitism, and capitalism. If you don't have the money to buy designer XYZ, you can't look like that. So you immediately fall outside into a different visual identity. There are so many layers; I reject this, I reject that. And even if I didn't reject it, it's still a problematic thing. I think it's one of the only art forms like that to that degree because it's so prevalent in our lives.

Yeah, everyone buys clothes somehow.

Yeah, we all buy into fashion in one way or another. Whether we reject it or not.

Yeah. On that note, I've talked to a few artists lately about how hard it is to price work and separate your friends or other artists you want to trade with and the career you're building.

Totally it's an ongoing, very difficult thing to price your work. At the beginning, when I had more of an ego and the superstar attitude, for some reason, I was like, I want my prices to be high. I priced out a certain type of person so that my product would be on a certain customer and look a certain way. That was part of the universe I was trying to build. "If I make this thing, I don't want it to end up looking like this." So, my stuff was the high price because of that, but also because of labour and time and making stuff in Canada is expensive. But I've since done a complete 180. I'll make something, understand that it's in my little tiny micro-universe, and then as soon as it steps out, it gets shifted, manipulated, transformed, mixed and remixed in so many ways that I never considered, and that's what excites me. I've brought down my cost to make it a little more accessible, but I can't feasibly make my stuff fast fashion prices. Fast fashion is the most accessible, but it's accessible because of very bad things. Whereas mine is more expensive. And relatively, all the boxes, trying to be ethical, are there, but it's more expensive, which means it's less accessible. I'm trying to pay my rent and pay the people I work with so they can pay their rent, so it's this constant give and pull of how do I price my stuff? I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that out. Maybe on the other side of burnout, I don't even have to think about that. Maybe I'm not making this stuff the same way that I'm making it. I don't know. But it's a good question that I need to focus on some more.

“I wanted to be the superstar who could do everything. But I was younger, much more ego driven, much more of an attachment to the tangible stuff. As I get older, I'm realizing that stuff actually doesn't matter. The physical; making pants, jackets, bags, whatever, that stuff doesn't matter. It's the idea. The thing is just a vessel for an idea or a feeling. The collection is just a packaged version of an idea or feeling you want to get across to someone else. That's the art form; that's the craft.”

– Eske Schiralli

Yeah, it's a difficult time to be an artist that sells art.

Totally. It's a very difficult time.

And it's ironic, right? That fast fashion is more accessible, but it lasts such a fraction of the time. The majority of my closet now is all of my Baba's, my grandmother's, clothes.

That's cool. It tells a story, too, tied to your family.

Yeah, I feel close to her when I wear it, and it feels generative, the storytelling within passing things down. Though your work might be more expensive, I think about what people are inheriting through purchasing it, even an interaction with you, the intentionality through everything, your tags, and everything else.

That's a very nice perspective. I like that. It's very energizing.

Yeah, that, to me, feels like the long run of your work. And with that, that makes me think about one of the questions, who do you bring with you through the creation of your work? And what do you hope to leave with people?

“In a way, I bring all the people who taught me because I haven't done this alone. I don't like the term self-taught, yes, you can teach yourself so much, but in my experience, I've learned a lot from other people. And not even technical skills or making the things, there's an ethos that they bring to me or just an idea that I'm like, oh, I really, I'm really into that, and then I'll make something and think about them or what that specific person or this collection or collective of people have taught me.”

– Eske Schiralli

In a way, I bring all the people who taught me because I haven't done this alone. I don't like the term self-taught, yes, you can teach yourself so much, but in my experience, I've learned a lot from other people. And not even technical skills or making the things, there's an ethos that they bring to me or just an idea that I'm like, oh, I really, I'm really into that, and then I'll make something and think about them or what that specific person or this collection or collective of people have taught me. I feel like I'm always bringing them through, and family especially. It's a really good question.

It's cool. I brought this up with Alyssa, too, because I feel this way about watching her in the last few years; this idea is not about developing a sense of style but a sense of self. What you just described, I think, speaks to that.

It does. That's incredible. Then style's the end product or something, but that's not the goal or the process,

Yeah, style like subconsciously happens.

Yeah, and we develop our sense of self through other people, as we said at the beginning, before recording like them mirroring these things back to us. Right now, I have a mentor, but in a lot of ways, friends have been mentors to me or elders; I've been mentored in all these different capacities. I bring them through my work and think, how do I honour them? How do I? How do I make a product? Or offer a service that takes their teachings and filters through me in a very intentional way? That's such a good question. That's something I want to continue thinking about. Maybe revisit and send you a more in-depth answer. But that's what I'm feeling right now, all these touch points that have really affected me, that's what I want to bring through my work. Whether you're wearing something or looking at something, that's what my work is reflecting.

Everything you're saying makes me think of other things, too. Making sense of points in life, like having this identity crisis, or a shedding of a former self, seeing how that changed your work or was a shift, or a chapter change.

That's such a good way of putting it. Whether we know it or not, we change as a person, then our work inevitably changes. It's a nice ego check. It's a nice humbling idea.

Yeah, it switches the focus from producing, thinking you need to release however many things to, "Oh, this is part of the work too, my work on myself is also the work."

Another good quote: my work on myself is also the work.

Yeah. Are you comfortable talking more about the burnout you're feeling now and how it's different than how it's shown up in the past?

The burnout that I'm experiencing now is hard to talk about because I have never experienced it like this. I'm still formulating my feelings around it. I feel like I'm in the middle of it. Burnout before would be very physical. I would be working nonstop for a period of time, and then a moment after that, I would feel physically exhausted. The difference now is I'm physically exhausted, emotionally exhausted, mentally exhausted, and spiritually exhausted; I almost don't have the drive to do anything or everything that I just said is my end picture. It sounds really pessimistic to say, but I almost don't believe in what I'm doing. And that's not because of a me thing; it's all these outside factors, the industry, the world at large. All the things happening on the news all the time that we're exposed to in the community here, the city politics, it's all these things that are affecting it. I'm exhausted in all these different capacities and in such depth.


I also don't have a timeline in mind, whereas before, I'd be burnt out for about a week, and after that, I could physically recharge and be like, let's go, let's get back into it. Now I'm like, the burnout has no end in sight. So that's scary, and that's a new feeling. I'm at a point now where I'm now recognizing it was a very slow burn for three months, and then all of a sudden a high concentration of the feeling. So for about six months total, with the last three months being like the peak of it. And because it's so prolonged and I have such jaded feelings towards what I'm doing and resentment towards what I'm doing, and the industry around it, I almost want to switch, leave and switch careers. I don't know what that other thing is, if it's creative or if it's more conventional.

Yeah, the burnout looks so unforeseen and so much exhaustion that I'm like, I want to do the complete opposite of what I'm doing. Before, I would like to trick myself like Stockholm Syndrome-y like, my captor being the job and me falling in love with the job. I'm like, this is the rite of passage; people before me have done this. We trick ourselves into thinking that this is how it has to be. So I was like, oh, burnout or burnout, it had to be like this. Whereas now, going through such a big burnout, I'm putting my foot down and being like, it doesn't have to be like this because I really don't want this. I don't want it now, and I don't want it in the future. So I'm looking to other things and ways outside of this industry, a completely opposite feeling to what this gives me if that makes sense. This is the first time I'm saying a lot of this or have vocalized it this way. I've spoken about it for the past few weeks, but in this combined way, I haven't really spoken about it. So if it sounds like I'm saying it for the first time, it's because I am.

It sounds like you've thought a lot about it, maybe not having said it out loud, but it feels very present in your life.

Yeah, definitely. The experience has been pretty terrible, but maybe whatever is on the other side of this, it's a good thing or a productive thing, or something that makes me genuinely happy. If I do leave all of this behind and I'm happy, and I can make a community or group or a region or the world around me happy, and my skill can do something good, and I can somehow sustain myself financially from that, that's not such a bad thing. It's scary that I'm leaving all this behind, or shifting or transforming, it's really scary, but if I'm happy and the people around me are happy, and we're healthy, and maybe that's it, I'm okay with that. Before, I'd be scared shitless, and I still sort of am, but if those criteria are met, maybe it's not such a bad thing.

Yeah, that, to me, sounds like reclaiming your life in a way.

Oh my god, yes. The past five years, I've been like, it's my life, but I'm almost leading this other version of my life that I'm not really choosing. I'm choosing a lot of it, but the momentum and like opportunities and opportunity costs and, I would say, factors at large, are determining it for me. Yeah, hence survival mode is determining me.

Coming back to the question about being an artist, have you always considered yourself an artist?

No, it's still something that I'm kind of accepting. I always thought that you had to pay your dues, get bodies of work out there, be relevant, whatever that means, and have a communication or a discourse around something bigger than yourself. I know, all those things are happening around me, but then the imposter syndrome is saying, not really, that's not really happening, you're not really doing it, or someone else in my field is doing it like bigger, better, whatever that means. Most days, I'm confident in what I do, but then there are days that I wake up, and the imposter syndrome sets in as it does for a lot of us. I think that imposter syndrome is like, no, you're not really an artist or a designer, you're not really doing it, even though I know I am. You know? So I don't know. I can't pinpoint when it started because I don't fully feel like that now, even though I'm doing those things or I meet the criteria of those things I just said. Yeah, I don't know. Maybe it's something that I have to choose for myself and be like, oh, I am. It can't be up to other people to tell me I'm an artist.

It's something I've been thinking about too. When you were explaining that you thought industrial design was cool, and all these other things were cool, too, it's hard to "pick one identity" as someone who's curious about a lot of different areas of design. Fashion is one thing that held your attention and your attention to detail, and you're really focused on it, but again, allowing ourselves to acknowledge our complexity and realize part of me is artistic, or this part of me is that, etcetera. Part of this project is about believing that everybody makes art in some capacity or has a creative part of themselves.

Yes, totally.

Everyone's human, you know, and, and art has this facade around it, and especially high fashion,

and a prestige, a gate.

Yeah, upholding the idea that one thing is more than something else. You reframing everything and being like, if what comes after this doesn't have any of this external validation, is that so bad? It forces everybody to redefine what success means to them or ask themselves what's sustainable. I dream of a world where people see a multitude of identities in themselves. Then you can connect more with more people. Instead of seeing someone who's in fashion and someone who "doesn't make art," instead of thinking you have nothing in common, you're curious about each other. You know?

That's an incredible perspective. Yeah.

Yeah, I think it's hard. I think it's really hard for all the reasons we talked about today, too, but I want to crack it.

Yeah, it is there. I think it's just each individual has to make that breakthrough moment for themselves.

“I've realized that my work is not my life, which I used to think the opposite. I was like, my work is my life, and my output is my personality or my identity, and that was a toxic trait.” 

– Eske Schiralli

Yeah. And it's that much harder with social media and everything else now; we've got a lot of distractions. I'm surprised to hear that you still struggle with calling yourself an artist.

Yeah, definitely. Yeah, I don't feel like I have paid my dues yet. You know? Even though I have a degree saying I'm a professional. I went to art and design school, you know, I got that piece of paper. In some ways, I feel very worthy, and in other ways, I'm still trying to prove myself to myself that I'm worthy of that title or calling.

You said earlier about your life not being your work or who you are isn't your work, and you don't have to answer this, but I was really tempted to ask, how else would you describe yourself? Or what other things are important to you about yourself?

I think I've been trying to figure that out over the past couple of months. It's like the catch-22 that burnout has allowed me to think of that or to have those feelings. I'm like, well, I don't want to feel like this anymore; what's making me feel like this, the work? So, I'm not my work. I don't want to feel like this. But who am I? That's an amazing question. I don't really know. It's been like this for, professionally, five years, and then conceptually, like, I went to school for six years before that. So it's been over a decade of thinking that my output was who I was. So now I have to, like, uncondition, deprogram, whatever that's been drilled into me. Who am I without all that stuff? I don't know. I don't know. It's something that I hope to find out. I was gonna say very soon, but I don't think it has to be very soon. It's something that I just hope I find out. I know who I want to be; I want to be a teacher or a mentor; I want to be a guide or a person someone can go to figure out the steps they want to take in this field or industry. Or maybe it's in another capacity, but I know I desire to teach and mentor. So that's my idealized version of myself. Then through being that, maybe I learn more about myself; like what I said above, I went into a class teaching, but then I learned so much from the students. I learned not just skills but who I actually am. I want to say I'm a son, I'm a family, all those things. Oh, he was a this, and you know, what they say in obituaries? A brother and husband, all those different things. I want to be those things. I guess I am, but I'm other things, too.

Yeah. What is fluid throughout what you're describing and what you hope to happen, and this is cool, to see yourself throughout friendships and relationships that span across time. All the reasons why you want to leave what you're doing now, or the things that don't sit well somatically with you, are all you tell yourself who you are. It's interesting to hear you saying you don't know when I think we all do in different ways. And then slowly, when you're more in alignment and have more energy, it's like, oh, this has always been here, you know? And I think it's about qualities, your intentionality, your kindness, your transparency, all these things that you really value, regardless of the job you're doing, that's who you show up as. Like, that's who you are. Yeah. And then I guess it's finding the places where you can really feel in alignment with what your gut is telling you instead of your gut being like, this is not where we want to be right now; it's not allowing you to be yourself. Like in some of the projects you've mentioned, clearly, you've had to turn off parts of yourself to just get jobs done, which is life sometimes, which sucks.

That's a really good way of putting it.

And it's interesting to think about times in our life where people will tell you what they see in you and then the moments where you finally are like, maybe that is who I am. You know?

I mean, hopefully, maybe they're, I don't want to sound pessimistic, but maybe they're idealized versions of yourself? If a friend or family member thinks I'm X, Y, Z, yeah, I hope to rise to the occasion. And if that's something that I strive to be, then maybe they're a push to be those things.

Yeah, and speaking to that importance of other people in your life, because they won't always be like, you're the best, they will -

They either check you or check in on you.

Yeah, perfect way of saying it. Yeah. Okay. Heading towards the end, you mentioned teaching, but is there a field or collaboration, whether it's inside or outside fashion, that you've always wanted to work in?

I don't want to make anything. I was a personal trainer a long time ago, 20- I don't remember, 2014 or 2015. The year before, I figured out that I wanted to do fashion stuff. I was really curious about the human body, biomechanics in general, and rehabilitation. I was in it for six months. and towards the middle and then the end, I found that my forte, every trainer at the gym that I worked at, had a specialty, and mine was rehabilitation, mobility and injury. When I first got into it, it was pure aesthetic, like bodybuilding almost, but I didn't want that for myself or my client. But I found something really cool about the body being this machine that we put through the wringer on a daily basis. People either get muscle imbalances, mobility issues, or an injury from something that happens to them, where their body is now limited in movement. I was like, I kind of really like working with these clients where we're not going back to who they used to be, we're going forward to like this completely new version of themselves, that could potentially be better, that could potentially be better than who they were before, physically at least. I was always really interested in that. I was really, really into it. But the working environment was really bad, so I became jaded about that, and then I found fashion. Now that I'm on this side of burnout and I'm looking for something way outside of this field, it was maybe two weeks ago where I was like, oh, what if I go back to that? I know there's a spark there; I have very small but some education, and I have an interest in it, and I have been, at least at the time, very good at it.


Other than I can't really think of anything else. I want to sit on a beach and have a bucket of Coronas by my side, like in those commercials; I want to do absolutely nothing like read books from when I wake up to when I go to sleep and drink Coronas and hang out. I kept seeing these memes like, God put humans on this earth so we could hang out, like, what is all this extra shit? Capitalism, like, what are billionaires saving up for? Hell? What is happening. I want to either do nothing and hang out or do personal training. That's as far as I've got so far; not too much further than that.

I had no idea that you did personal training. How you describe your approach to clients and rehabilitation, I think you have the exact skills you need to coach yourself through the next phase of your life.

Right? But ironically, we can sometimes give people advice or help other people, but when we turn that inwards, we're like, uh oh, I can't do that. That's so hard. Sometimes I give advice where I'm like, what the fuck am I saying? Like, I'm not even doing that. Like, I wish I could be that person, but you're probably right, and I just have to figure it out or take the next steps.

And it was really interesting what you said in training after injury, like, you can't go back.

I mean, some people can, but my ethos was like, let's go to the next version of yourself.

Yeah. I like that. The evolution of the current state.

So many people are so disconnected from their bodies. They'll live a whole life. I mean, we drive cars, but I have no idea how a car works. I know you put your foot on the pedal and you somehow move. We live our whole lives, and we don't really know how our bodies work, those interconnected systems. So if I could be that touch point for someone, and then it changes their life, and they take that, and that's how they become this new version of themselves. If they went through this injury, or some sort of trauma that changed their physiology, let's use that as leverage to get an experience that goes to the next level. Then they have this neural pathway between their brain, body, and muscles that was never there before. The goal was always to try to get them to this next stage. There's something still about that, that's like, it's still really appealing. I rejected it for so long because I was like, I'm done with that part of my life, but now I'm like, I kind of want to go back to that. I lived a few past lives before stumbling into fashion, and that was one that I think I could go back to, definitely.

I've heard that emotions need to move, and we do that through movement. Like literally, physiologically, movement moves feelings and anxiety and, like everything else, through our body.

That's really good. If I do get back into training, I'm going to say that. I'll credit you. Emotions need to move, too. That's really good.

Yeah, my background growing up, I was a dancer. I got back into dancing during the pandemic, and it's been life-changing, I would say. I think everybody loves to dance, but it's so hard in these public spaces that we have for dancing.

Yeah, like all eyes are on you, it feels like sometimes. Yeah, everyone's a dancer, but no one likes to be judged.

Yeah, exactly. This will be the last question, do you have something that's like, made you laugh in the last bit or meme that stuck with you or like something that you find inspiring or has lifted you? Movie, book, quote?

There are so many things, but then like, nothing at all. Like, there are so many moments that I could answer that with, but then also, like, my burnout brain wants to say no. I read this book that was, I don't know how to put it, it was very discouraging. So the book is called The Day The World Stopped Shopping. There's a lot of research on past consumer behaviour in psychology and there is this speculative, future prediction based on all former research of what a world that stopped shopping would look like and the different things that it would affect; people socially, physiologically, economically, the environment, and then microcosms in the environment, the weather. I read this in the heart of my burnout, which was so discouraging. I was like, fuck this, I'm part of this machine leading towards this increase in consumption. I'm part of that. But then it was also amazing insight, and maybe that's part of the meaning of my burnout, to address that. Part of it is rejecting that, so maybe the next phase is, you know, I read this book, I'm now armed with this new knowledge.

Then there's this other book, it's a really short book, but a really good one called The World Is On Fire, But We're Still Buying Shoes. It's lots of infographics, and it's written by a former fashion journalist who, like me now, already recognized he was part of this machine that he didn't like. So he left, he rejected it, and he wrote this, almost like musings, but also very research heavy, about, like, what hype-culture and streetwear and this new fashion bubble, what that's doing to people in the world.

So I read these two books. I feel like part of whatever the next phase of my journey is, has to do with what they're talking about, addressing that or lending my voice to that same conversation. It sucks. It sucks that it's a conversation that it has to be a conversation, but it's really empowering knowing that people are starting to wake up. I was kinda like, what is this feeling that it's kind of awakening in me? It didn't make me laugh; I wouldn't say it made me laugh. So it doesn't hit that part of the question.

It sounds like there's a part of that conversation validating you're not alone and giving you other ways of also looking at it.

Yeah, sort of like positive reinforcement that where I'm going is okay.

ESKE SCHIRALLI

Originally immersed in the world of fashion, I've transitioned into sharing my love for the craft through teaching sewing and strategy rather than design and production. I find joy in sparking curiosity and sharing an unwavering belief in the power of lifelong learning. Drawing on my industry experience, I now dedicate myself to educating aspiring artists, equipping them with both technical skills and a futurist mindset. I dream of one day providing a space where creative individuals can feel empowered to explore their personal growth and contribute to collective success.

Checkout Eske’s new collaborative project and sewing school, Soft Skills.