“I never really liked runways”: the London-based designer speaks to Man About Town following her debut Spring/Summer 2027 collection, “Numero Uno”.
How do you launch a menswear brand in 2026? For London-based designer Huguette Tchiapi, you transform a Soho food spot into an intimate salon and showcase your debut Spring/Summer 2027 collection, titled ‘Numero 01’, in front of pals and press.
Presented outside of the chaos of London Fashion Week, it’s a tempo change that reflects the consideration and exploration of heritage present in these garments. Tchiapi is from Cameroon, and directly draws on this legacy through the lens of London, where she calls home. She pulls influences from both locations, merging them with a focus on Cameroonian craft. At the show, models sauntered through the basement restaurant of Scarlett Green wearing textured, full-cut suits and stand collar military-style jackets with frayed front closures. Tank tops were layered with beaded jewellery in black and turquoise, and sequined vests were cut in lengthy proportions. On foot models wore flip-flops adding a slice of warm-weather chill to the April festivities.
To fully honour and authentically incorporate these designs into her work, Tchiapi travelled to her home country in October 2025, spending a month alongside videographer Alice Carfrae interviewing and documenting the processes of artisans to platform their process. Take the rattan bags carried under the arms of models. They were made by Awana Paul Victorian, who they discovered making furniture on the side of the road, for example (the full list of artisans can be found here). Ndop – a hand-woven resist-dyed fabric (a technique that blocks certain parts of material from being dyed to create patterns) – traditionally made in Cameroon is used alongside British wool and applied to tailoring, rather than one-pieces, scarves and wrap-arounds that are traditionally associated with the fabric.
“I feel like here [in London], the looks are very curated. You want to be seen as one aesthetic, whether that’s [saying] ‘I really want to wear tailored clothing, and that’s how my wardrobe would be’ or more streetwear and wearing a bunch of hoodies and tracksuits,” says Tchiapi. “I feel like in Cameroon, the way they wear clothes is more about the intention behind it, and then how it actually fits into their everyday life and their movement and what they’re doing. So when I look at my clothes and designs, I try to blend these two different thoughts: how can it fit and feel quite natural to the person who’s wearing it and their identity whilst also being very aesthetically pleasing and well-made.”
A double-breasted blazer pulls on this very distinct juxtaposition. Tchiapi recalls the care-free styling of guys playing football in Cameroon, where shorts and vests are thrown on in the name of function. This jacket imagines what that person would wear to work and to football after hours. And the result is a universally appreciated example of dressed-down suiting, where traditional structure becomes soft and fluid.
If this sounds like a research project conducted by a museum, reflected through clothing, that’s the point. Her collections double as craft-focused deep dives, more akin to artistic undertakings than just runway shows. It’s reflective of Tchiapi’s introductions to fashion. “At the beginning when I was younger, I never wanted to do fashion. I was always into art, and I navigated between different things that I wanted to do,” she tells me. It’s hard to imagine now. Tchiapi graduated from the Central Saint Martins BA Menswear Course in 2024, with stints at Simone Rocha (where she interned as an embroiderer) and Wales Bonner already under her belt, alongside teaching gigs at Central Saint Martins and The Fashion Retail Academy. The turning point came after being introduced to the works of Hussein Chalayan, the British-Cypriot designer known for high-tech, architectural pieces like his Autumn/Winter 2000 coffee table dress, which transformed furniture into something you can wear. She calls the works of Yohji Yamamoto “resilient”. In short, she knows fashion.
But what is she doing differently with her own label? Huguette isn’t a buzzy clout machine, it’s a House for guys that know their stuff. “He doesn’t follow trends, and he cares about the longevity of what [he’s] wearing and the narrative behind the clothing. They really think about why they’re wearing it and what they are and who actually made it,” says Tchiapi, when asked on who she’s designing for. The slow salon presentation wasn’t engulfed by a booming soundtrack with legions of stomping models. It was slow and considered, inviting people to see garments in-depth, and showing a conviction in her designs.
“I never really liked runways. I feel like you don’t see the clothes. You sit there and it goes past, and then you might see it later in a showroom. But by then, I feel the life is lost in the clothes, because no one’s actually wearing it, and you don’t really hear the intention about it until you listen to an interview from a designer, or you read the press release. But by then, the collection’s already passed, and now it’s very separate,” says Tchiapi.
Basmati smock-inspired shirts and ballooning trousers are solid pieces; there’s a point of view inspired by her Cameroonian heritage and life in London, and they don’t require too much heavy lifting to look good in a range of wardrobes. In January’s run of fashion shows, Auralee doubled down on fabric innovation and colourful buoyancy via ultra-wearable military-style bombers, puffer jackets and relaxed trousers. Even Behemoth Louis Vuitton delivered a dandified take on more muted, classic silhouettes, speaking to wardrobe to longevity. Tchiapi’s ‘Numero 01’ collection has that same universality. In other words, these clothes are designed for real life, bringing a fresh perspective made to last; they’re anti-hype and pro-craft – that’s how you launch a menswear brand in 2026.
