Myah Hasbany

There is a particular kind of confidence that does not announce itself. Myah Hasbany has the other kind the kind that embroiders itself in red across an oversized jacket, the kind that casts bodies that look like her own body on a runway and dares anyone to call it a statement. It is a statement, of course. It just refuses to apologize for being one.

The Central Saint Martins graduate, now settled into the ateliers of Dior in Paris, emerged from their graduation collection with the kind of work that makes people stop and feel something before they can explain it.That is not a common reaction to student work. That is not an accident.

THE WORK

When asked which piece feels closest to who Myah is, No hesitation. The red jacket. Entirely hand-embroidered, deliberately exaggerated in scale, almost violent in its brightness. The piece grew from a frustration they had carried for years: being told, about their clothes as much as about themself, that the only reason something registers is because it is large. "F*** you guys," is roughly how they characterizes their response. "I'm going to make something big and fabulous and super bright." There is real joy in how Myah says it.

The collection operated on a logic of productive contradiction: garments that read as familiar from across a room and became increasingly strange up close. A sweater constructed exactly like a tailored jacket panels cut as if for a Dior bar jacket, bias-bound on the inside, sewn on a machine the way structured tailoring is sewn  that on its exterior looked purely like knitwear. No one would ever see the interior. That was not the point. The construction shaped the silhouette, and the silhouette told the story.

"I made it so it looked like a bar jacket from a distance  and then up close it's this knitwear piece. The inside is all bias-bound, sewn like a tailored jacket. No one would ever see it."

Their relationship to craft is, in this way, private and principled. In an industry that celebrates speed, the quick turnaround, the reactive drop, the trend-adjacent deliverable They worked from November to July, no days off, eight in the morning until two at night, because Myah was obsessed. Not because a deadline demanded it, but because the work demanded it. "I was completely obsessed with it. There was nothing else in my mind that would be more important than that." Myah says it without drama. It sounds like the most natural thing in the world.

THE PHILOSOPHY

Hasbany grew up in Texas, which they describe with something between affection and relief as a place that had very clear opinions about their work. Myah was desperate to leave. Desperate to reach Central Saint Martins. Desperate, they say, not to be in Texas anymore. That desperation, they insist, was a gift. If someone had told them it would all work out, Myah might have worked less hard. 

The designer who first believed in their collaborator they had worked with since Myah was seventeen, still in Texas, still in high school  saw their work and asked no questions. Wanted to wear it. Wanted to support it. That early, unconditional recognition shaped something in how they think about their audience now: Myah lends their work selectively, to people they trust to understand it, because Myah believes meaning is diluted by oversaturation. "It's very easy to just let it exist in the world, and that kind of loses meaning every time someone else wears it."

Myah is equally considerate about the question of wearability, a word fashion likes to use as a gentle rebuke to designers who make things that feel like art. Hasbany is not yet ready to concede. The fashion world, “is so oversaturated” that Myah has to be sure that what they make is important to be made. They are not interested in making things for the sake of making things. Myah is experimenting on themself, sewing garments Myah actually wears, watching what works. Taking their time.

THE BODY

The word that recurs throughout Hasbany's work  and in their conversation  is body. The distortion of it, the exaggeration of it, the dysphoria of inhabiting one. Their graduation collection addressed these feelings not as wounds to be dressed but as territories to be explored, enlarged, made fabulous. Myah cast models who looked like them. They did not frame it as representation. They simply looked fantastic. Most people did not even remark on it.

The word that recurs throughout Hasbany's work  and in their conversation  is body. The distortion of it, the exaggeration of it, the dysphoria of inhabiting one. Their graduation collection addressed these feelings not as wounds to be dressed but as territories to be explored, enlarged, made fabulous. Myah cast models who looked like them. They did not frame it as representation. They simply looked fantastic. Most people did not even remark on it.

That, to them, is the aspiration. Not a token runway, not a diversity initiative, not a press-release gesture, just clothes that make people of all body types look extraordinary, because someone finally tried. "People have this idea that mid-sized or plus-sized people can't look fantastic. It's because no one's really tried." Myah says it with the plainness of someone describing a gap in the market, which is also what it is.

WHAT'S NEXT

Seven months into their position at Dior, Hasbany is, by their own account, still absorbing. Still learning. Still in awe of what it means to see Haute Couture construction up close, Myah mentions the Maison Margiela Artisanal show, Galliano's last in 2023, and the experience of interning there afterward, seeing those pieces in person for the first time. The lesson Myah took from it: research deeply, create recognizable visual references, then make them entirely your own.

Their dream, for now, is not a brand launch or a runway date. It is simpler and more human than that. Myah wants to be walking down a street in Paris one day and see a stranger, someone who has no idea who they are wearing something they made. Just wearing it. Just walking.

For a designer who works in scale and spectacle, there is something quietly radical about that.

KEY PIECE

The red embroidered jacket  hand-stitched, exaggerated silhouette, defiant in scale and color.

SIGNATURE MATERIAL

Mohair  sourced secondhand from eBay, brushed into something fabulous.

HIDDEN DETAIL

The knitwear sweaters, constructed internally like bias-bound tailored jackets  invisible craftsmanship that shapes everything.

CURRENT POSITION

Design assistant at Dior, Paris. Seven months in, still learning, still in awe.

ZODIAC

Aries. Naturally