During his time studying in Jerusalem, Karl Lagerfeld Prize-winning designer Hed Mayner found himself surrounded by uniforms: predominantly of military and religion. Observing the time-honoured regalia of these worlds, Mayner’s eponymous brand unpicks these layers of meaning and tradition, warping and distorting towards a play of shape, scale and fabrication. Fascinated by the skewed, imperfect proportions of orthodox Jewish tailoring – borrowed and passed down through generations – Mayner reflects this across exaggerated shapes: wide amplified suiting that cocoons the body, or shrunken, twisted silhouettes inspired by a child’s tuxedo jacket worn on an adult body like a second skin. Cropped sleeves hang awkwardly, untucked hems sit at an angle and technical fabrics are manipulated into dramatic, abstract shapes that transform with their wearer. 

Alex James Taylor: Your mother was a painter and father a metalworker, I’m interested in this idea of artisan craft being passed down through your family. 
Hed Mayner: Yes, I was growing up in this environment and was also trained to think with my hands. It was not a very intellectual environment, because sometimes art can be more academic, but there was a nature of making things. Both my parents were very expressive. I learned in this way and have always felt comfortable [working with my hands], I love doing that, the joy of thinking about something and creating it. It was also quite an isolated environment because we were in a very small village. It started like that and then I moved to textile, which was something that was not in my house. I met a lady who had a very interesting way of dressing and used to make all of her own clothes and bags. She was special, and from her I learned how to sew. Then I moved to an academy and it became less like a hobby. 

AJT: Did your parents have workshops or did they work at home? 
HM: My mother worked from home and my father had a workshop outside. They used to slave me [laughs] – “Do that,” “Get this.” We used to work like that to make a living in this way. [In the village] there was no supermarket or grocery shop, you’d have to get in your car. It was isolated. 

AJT: Do you miss that way of life or do you enjoy being in the city? 
HM: I always wanted to live in the city, I never really liked life in the countryside. Of course, there is waking up to the quiet, but I never really liked the mentality in the countryside, and I didn’t like living so close to your neighbour and having this communal life. When I moved to the city, I was very happy. Tel Aviv is a small city, it’s not huge, but still you can feel like nobody is bothering you, and that’s what I needed at that time. Then I got used to living in the city and this style of life. 

AJT: There’s a lot of amazing Bauhaus architecture in Tel Aviv. I can see similarities between your work and the curved shapes and notions of rethinking functionality within Bauhaus. Is that a conscious inspiration? 
HM: Maybe, I love the Bauhaus. For me, the Bauhaus was about starting from ground zero, and this notion is something I like, this way of thinking, “OK, we’ll restart everything.” A lot of people speak about the functionality, but I always thought that they were driven by the idea of beauty. There is the curving in what I do, and very strongly the notion of the sculpture, which is what I feel very drawn to. 

“We live in a culture where you want something for yourself, you have the web and the image and everything, but with a garment you discover something that is just yours.”

AJT: There’s that tension between fluidity and structure. I’m fascinated by the ideas of uniform that pervade your work, and the undoing of these codes. You’ve previously spoken about ideas of repetition and using that to create subtle changes between garments, which I find really interesting. 
HM: The idea of uniform started when I was a student in Jerusalem. In Israel, it’s a society filled with uniform, and the two most dominant uniforms are the military, the soldiers, and then the religious. I was never particularly interested in them when I was younger, it was just around, but the starting point was the tailoring. What I like is the way the religious people wear their tailoring, there was nothing saying their status, if they were rich or poor, but it was still very dignified and beautiful. I liked that aspect of tailoring and thought it was something very new. They pass the clothing between generations in the family, so you see disproportion, like a little boy with a huge coat, or a big man with a sleeve like that [gestures a sleeve being short on his arm]. There is disproportion all the time and this I love. There’s also something about removing all status, all gender, and instead speaking with your body, your attitude. This is maybe the more political or social aspect of the work, but the rest is much more personal.

AJT: Personal in what sense? 
HM: It’s related to your body. It’s more intimate, it’s wrapping and you’re hiding inside.

AJT: It plays with the way the younger generation will adapt and subvert tropes from their elders by wearing things slightly different, or embracing a certain nuance. 
HM: Exactly. There is also something about finding something, wearing it and having this interpretation.

AJT: Did you have that yourself as a child?
HM: I was always collecting and wearing things. I was also into looking different all the time, which I still think is really important. I was into vintage and the culture of vintage, the joy of discovering.

AJT: Going back at FW23, your collaboration with Reebok was really special – the shapes and silhouettes were so dramatic. I’m interested what it was like working with those lighter, more technical fabrics and how you saw Reebok’s codes merging with your own? 
HM: It was quite natural and it was done in a very fast and intuitive way, it wasn’t a long process. We exaggerated the idea of sportswear… I tried to understand what Reebok is, and looked at a lot of different things. I had an image in my head but it was kind of blurred. But I saw the wrinkle and the piping and the fabric, and I had memories of it. From being a decorative element, the piping became something that lead the whole structure. So there was very long piping, quite heavy, and that gives all the movement. The stitches were also exaggerated. It was about questioning every little element and transforming, but still keeping it very recognisable and something you understand. Again, I wanted to build a sculpture, something very strong, very urban.

AJT: It’s another uniform, a sports uniform. 
HM: Exactly. Also the functionality, the multi-pocket, there is almost a paranoia of pockets you can hide things inside. This type of fabric, it’s another type of sensation. It’s an ongoing collaboration and there’s a lot to work on in that direction.

AJT: The structure of those pieces reminded me of ancient eras, pieces drape and wrap like dramatic robing. 
HM: It’s maybe interpreted like that but I’m more interested in the body language, in the mistake. Everything is a bit like dyslexia, you’re trying to write something, you write it wrong, but it’s beautiful, we should write it like that, it’s better looking. There is something about really believing in that – it should go backwards, or it should have no back, just front. And then making that convincing. I like this feeling of parallel reality. For me, it’s about the mistake becoming precious or essential. I’m interested in the history of clothing, taking elements, isolating them, but also hiding them. I don’t like when the reference is too strong. I like when it’s something you can find.

“I like this feeling of parallel reality. For me, it’s about the mistake becoming precious or essential.”

AJT: You’re currently working on your SS24 collection, where are you taking the brand this season? 
HM: I’ve been trying to avoid the feeling of having something inside and outside, not the 3D within the shape, but really going inside the garment. We bonded lots of things together, so there is no lining and everything can be removed. Also, we did this kind of look that’s familiar, it’s funny, it’s like old Ralph Lauren but nothing is perfect – like a moccasin that’s squeezed down very flat, we pressed it down, bonded also. There’s beauty, but things are moulded diffrently and the texture has changed.

AJT: Do you find joy in creating hidden aspects that people only discover as they wear a piece of clothing? 
HM: Yes, it’s a lot about that. We live in a culture where you want something for yourself, you have the web and the image and everything, but with a garment you discover something that is just yours.

AJT: And when someone buys the item they put their own take on it and add their layer of difference, it’s storytelling. 
HM: Yes, exactly.

AJT: What’s the view from your studio window?
HM: I’ll show you [takes laptop to the window]. It’s one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Tel Aviv. There is a pigeon cage on the roof there [laughs], there’s a guy who goes there three times a day and feeds and throws them. My house is upstairs, we have three floors. One is the atelier where we experiment, then we have the office and kitchen, which is my kitchen, and the last floor is my apartment where I live. I save a lot of time like that [laughs].

Interview originally published inside HERO 30.