Iris van Herpen

In my atelier, machines hum like bees around liquid light. I do not design clothes — I chase the invisible, drawing patterns from magnetic fields and the spirals of shells. My ballet-trained hands understand motion as language. Scientists, architects, and dreamers walk through my doors. We translate coral reefs into gowns, mycelium into movement. I believe clothing is a second skin, a bridge between body and atmosphere. You might find me by the canal, watching light fracture on the water’s skin — or in a quiet museum, sketching bones.