SOPHIA KHAN: Since you started working in fashion 15 years ago, how has the industry evolved in Pakistan?
MOHSIN ALI TAWASULI: A few years ago, before I joined Sana Safinaz, fashion was still somewhat exciting because of Fashion Pakistan Week. There was always a buzz, everyone wanted to be invited and there were limited seats. Journalists would hype up designers and designers were putting out innovative work. In those days there was no social media; fashion appealed to only a small niche consumer segment and Fashion Week was a playground for experimentation. Audiences were more welcoming of creativity and talent and designers were not afraid to be risqué and push boundaries. Fast forward to the present and fashion now evokes a degree of hostility so that designers can’t say or do anything that challenges public opinion. We keep hearing words to the effect of: “Is this the Islamic Republic of Pakistan?” and “What kind of fashion are you trying to promote?” Back then, nobody cared about who wore the clothes; it was accepted as creative expression.

SK: What changed for designers in Pakistan that led them to pivot their trajectories?
MAT: Fashion Week and newspaper features were great, but fashion did not bring in any real business. Despite being well-known for their work, designers were not doing well. Then suddenly, everything began to revolve around the business of fashion. The multi-designer store was born. Designers and clients were both thrilled by the prospect of commercialisation. The result is that now, no one appreciates creativity. People just want beautiful three-piece suits for women to wear and rightly so. And what is happening is that designers are making tons of money but are creatively unhappy, which lends to a lot of frustration.

SK: How did you find yourself in the role of a creative director at Sana Safinaz in the aftermath of this shift?
MAT: When my friends and I graduated from the Pakistan Institute of Fashion Design (PIFD), we were elbows deep in experimental fashion. At that time, we were taught how to make the French essentials: the skirt, blazer and top, but not a shalwar or kameez. We were all very creative and wanted to be bold in our designs. However, I began to question the longevity of such designs in Pakistan. For instance, a beautiful gown is only going to be worn once to a Lux Style award ceremony before being banished to a corner of the wardrobe. I, along with others, realised that to bring in business, our clothes had to be more wearable. It was during this time that I was approached by Sana Hashwani and Safinaz Muneer to join the creative team.

SK: What helped you discover your heart for fashion?
MAT: I grew up in Quetta, the youngest in my family. I knew from a young age that I was not interested in pursuing medicine or engineering. By the time college admissions came around, I was thinking hard about where my strengths lay and then it clicked that I was a creative person, because I love beautiful things. I have always loved collecting and curating beautiful things. When I was younger, I would bring back all sorts of beautiful things from my walks like a curved branch and purple cactus blooms, and create a display out of these materials.

SK: What is your view on the relationship between fashion and lifestyle?
MAT: Fashion on its own is not much unless there is a lifestyle attached to it; otherwise, it’s just clothing. Clients today are very involved. They want to study the catalogue, know how much fabric they need and what borders to add. They make purchasing decisions knowing they will be wearing that creation to an Eid dinner or when visiting friends. There has to be a backdrop. Even when styling, it’s important to create a story for the product you are selling. Who is wearing these clothes? How is she styling them? This helps create aspirational value.

SK: You are often credited as the person who popularised fashion films in Pakistan. How did that come about?
MAT: It started when I was tasked with creating a visual preview for one of Sana Safinaz’s lawn collections. Traditionally, fashion previews were 30 seconds long and included shots of models simply showing off the clothes. I wanted to make these videos more interesting and in order to create a more alluring narrative, I proposed creating trailers for each collection that would give people a sneak preview into a collection.

SK: Take me through your creative process.
MAT: Ideas can spark anywhere. Sometimes I visit a particular location and a 100 different ideas erupt at the same time. I like to imagine the characters in the story I am weaving by building their personalities and giving them attributes. A lot of people transition from mood boards or thought maps to the final product, but I feel this limits experimentation and organic exploration.

SK: Do you think commercialisation has ruined the fashion industry?
MAT: It has hindered true creative expression. The objective now is to make beautiful clothes that sell. Fashion has been commercialised to the extent that people do not appreciate the art behind it. Look at the comments section of any brand’s profile and you will see a handful of people applauding the craft (often creatives themselves) and the rest will only type ‘pp’, meaning ‘price, please.’ But, it’s not just that – the dynamics are so different in this country. All around the world, people are observing, admiring, reviewing and writing about what fashion houses are doing because they understand art. Here, art is not valued in the same way and it all comes down to the clothes and how practical they are.

SK: What was it like to helm a well-known and well-loved brand like Sana Safinaz?
MAT: I definitely felt the weight of that responsibility, even though Sana and Safinaz had complete faith in me. They were keen on hiring someone young to steer the brand to where it is now. In the beginning, I was bouncing with ideas and eager to prove myself, to the point where I was often scolded by them for working too hard, but I knew I had to uphold the image of the brand. I’m very grateful that it was always a collaborative process with them and that our tasks were well-segmented.

SK: What led you to step down from your position as creative director?
MAT: I was very happy for the past 10 years, but one day, while preparing to launch the summer lawn collection, I was up at four in the morning, waiting to approve a video from the editor and it dawned on me – will all my nights look like this for the rest of my life? I realised I had been trying to live with this self-imposed pressure of perfection and it had exhausted me. As a creative director, I had been juggling the roles of designer, stylist and art director. I decided I wanted to live a slower-paced life and return to my roots.

SK: What future do you envision for Mohsin Ali Tawasuli?
MAT: The prospect of starting anew seems daunting to many people, but I’m excited. I mean, it’s not easy to leave a comfortable job, but I need to write my own story. I am multi-dimensional; there are too many things that I want to do. I want to do something that’s close to my heart and also reclaim my individuality. With the brand I hope to create, I don’t want to focus on just clothes; I want to fully embrace all aspects of one’s lifestyle and build a collective that nurtures artists as well. Also, this industry is still in need of more creative professionals to curate, manage and execute.

Photo: Sajal Sajjad

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