In his much-anticipated return to fashion, designer Sander Lak unveils his new label with a debut collection inspired not by trends or nostalgia, but by place. Sanderlak Year 01: Los Angeles is an ode to the city’s emotional landscape—its sunlight, its texture, its laid-back rhythm. But more than that, it’s a manifesto for a new way of designing: rooted, responsive, and deeply personal.
A new chapter, shaped by place
Sander Lak’s reentry into fashion doesn’t rely on reinvention—it hinges on observation. After shuttering his beloved label Sies Marjan in 2020, Lak returns with something quieter, more considered, and intriguingly open-ended: a brand named simply Sanderlak, and a concept anchored in the character of global cities. Each collection will focus entirely on a single location, beginning with Los Angeles.
But don’t expect palm trees or clichéd skyline references. This is not about tourist imagery—it’s about emotional resonance. “With each location, I want to get under its skin,” Lak says. “To understand what it feels like to wake up there, to walk its streets, to notice the quiet things.” His Los Angeles is more internal than external. It’s found in fabric, color, proportion, and ease.
This inaugural collection, Sanderlak Year 01: Los Angeles, is a portrait in 51 looks. Genderless separates in soft, sun-faded hues are grounded in wearability and subtle construction details. The tailoring is loose and undone; a blazer is tied instead of buttoned, a wide-leg pant cinches with a drawstring. Even the leather feels weathered, like it’s been left out in the sun too long—a sartorial metaphor for the city’s beauty and decay.
Los Angeles as feeling, not symbol
What makes Lak’s approach unique is his ability to channel emotion into material. Color, always one of his strongest signatures, plays a leading role here. “The light in L.A. is unlike anywhere else,” he explains. “It’s soft yet harsh and dry. It settles over everything in this quiet way.” He translates this visual poetry into a palette that’s faded without being weak: corn masa yellow, like sunbaked stucco; strawberry milkshake pink, nostalgic but not saccharine; and midnight-blue shearling tinged with frost.
Texture also becomes a storytelling device. Washed fabrics, bleached denim, and gently worn finishes hint at the passage of time. These aren’t garments that feel new—they feel known. And that’s intentional. “There’s a beauty here,” Lak says of Los Angeles, “but also a cost. Nothing stays pristine for long.” This tension—between glamour and grit, ease and effort—is captured in every look.
Even the branding is low-key. The Sanderlak logo appears quietly, stamped on the chest of T-shirts or sewn into denim patches. There’s no shouting, no heavy symbolism. Instead, Lak’s vision invites the wearer into a mood, not a costume.
Design by immersion
What sets Sanderlak apart isn’t just its aesthetic—it’s the process. Each collection going forward will be bound to a strict set of creative rules based on the chosen city. Lak and his team must work with local photographers, artists, models, and vintage sources. This isn’t just a nod to authenticity; it’s a design constraint that forces innovation.
“In some moments, it was definitely more challenging,” Lak admits. “You can’t just order exactly what you need; you have to respond to what’s available and adjust. But that limitation made the process feel more alive.” This creative discipline reflects Lak’s broader philosophy: great design isn’t about having everything at your fingertips—it’s about making something meaningful from what you have.
Lak’s own upbringing and career path reflect this roaming spirit. Born in Brunei, raised across Malaysia, Gabon, Scotland, and the Netherlands, and trained at Central Saint Martins in London, Lak has lived in some of the world’s most storied cities. He designed under Dries Van Noten in Antwerp, Balmain in Paris, and made his name in New York with Sies Marjan. His understanding of cities is not based on glossy travel fantasies, but lived experience.
A future of fashion shaped by geography
With Sanderlak, Lak isn’t just launching a brand—he’s launching a design framework. Each collection will be a timestamped artifact of a city and a moment. In an era of hyper-consumption and globalized aesthetics, Lak’s approach feels radical in its locality. Rather than draw from an endless, borderless feed of inspiration, he’s choosing to listen to one place at a time.
“Relaxed and easy, but still intentional,” is how he describes the feeling of Year 01. “Like the way people carry themselves in a city where every day feels a little like a Sunday. That’s more powerful to me than a postcard reference.” And he’s right—there’s something deeply intimate and subversive about designing clothes that evoke, rather than depict.
Fashion often leans on the idea of escapism. With Sanderlak, Lak proposes immersion instead. You don’t wear these clothes to become someone else—you wear them to feel something familiar, even in a place you’ve never been.
