Constança Entrudo — Who’s That Girl?
CONSTANÇA ENTRUDO
PATRÍCIA BARNABÉ
Words
ANA VIEGAS
Photography
CONSTANÇA ENTRUDO MAY BE ONE OF PORTUGAL’S MOST PROMISING FASHION DESIGNERS, BUT BELONGS VERY MUCH TO A WORLD SHE OBSERVES WITH IRONY, RESPONSIBILITY AND ENVIABLE FREEDOM. BIG ON PATTERNS AND INDIVIDUALITY, SHE CREATES COLLECTIONS AS FRESH AND LIGHT AS A SPRING BREEZE.
PHOTO IGOR PJÖRRT
STYLING BERNARDO CUNHA
Constança Entrudo comes to meet us in the corridor, chaperoned by a friendly mongrel that follows her everywhere she goes. A slender figure, she walks with an ethereal air, dressed in an assortment of candy colours, her blonde hair giving off a slight 1980s vibe. Still in her 20s, she exudes a keen creative energy, a sharp and insatiable curiosity, as well as a critical and experimental bent. She does everything empirically and instinctively. In other words, she acts on instinct, which may be the greatest quality of true innovators. Considered one of the most promising Portuguese fashion designers, Constança, like many of her generation, sees herself as a citizen of the world.
She had the good fortune to be born into a lineage of cool women. At the age of two, she demonstrated a certain fascination for fantasy and Disney, “which you can see in my work”, she says with a grin. “I had an operation when I was very small and had to stay in hospital in France for a long time. My parents encouraged me to watch Disney films in French and I would draw all the characters. The focus of the drawings was almost always the patterns, rather than the clothes. I would give the patterns names and create a universe out of them. It was very fantastical.” In her teens, her dress sense became noticeably carefree. Other enjoyments included writing and studying, to the point that she thought of following philosophy, anthropology or political science. However, when she reached the 12th year, and “feeling rather down about things, I started thinking about studying the arts. It had nothing to do about fashion, which had never crossed my mind.” The foundation course she started at Central Saint Martins in London allowed her to delve into textiles, fashion, sculpture, architecture, and graphic design. Such was her sensitivity for materials, colours, research and experimentation that her teachers soon told her she was a textile designer, and that if she wanted to, she could then apply what she knew to fashion. She graduated in textile design in 2017 and realised fashion “could be much more”: She took her first steps with brands such as Balmain, Peter Pilotto and the duo Marques’ Almeida, before founding her own label in 2018 and presenting her first collection at ModaLisboa, where the originality of her fabrics generated a buzz.
Boasting patterns that are bold and applied using a deconstructed weft with recycled threads, it’s an original technique she calls unwoven, which she has been perfecting since college. This is off-loom weaving, strand by strand, directly on the mould and the piece itself: “It’s the rejection of loom rules, which are warp and weft. Here, there’s only weft, no horizontal line that offers structure. It’s as if the threads were loose”, she explains. She does everything in her studio, where she has trained the team: “Even if I wanted to do it in a factory, it’s a technique that no one has ever seen. It’s challenging and repetitive, so I try to do few pieces and introduce new ideas, so whoever’s working on it feels more stimulated.”
Film characters have their place when it comes to her work, as do cinematic atmospheres. She loves Buñuel, Fellini, Haneke, Wong Kar-wai, but also films by artists like Derek Jarman, “perhaps my favourite ever”. She clearly loves the joy and irony of pop culture: “My work has a lot of humour. I imagine something more popular. I like the pop side.” She hates cancel culture, which she sees as an attack on intelligence: “Everything is offensive and people are afraid to play around. Previous generations had thicker skins.” We shift in our chair when she says: “I have a certain fascination for pimba [slightly cheesy Portuguese musical genre]. I really like popular music, wherever it’s from. It’s a faster interpretation of things and culture, but it translates how people really feel and think. It mirrors our reflections and concerns, when it comes to love, the country, the economic situation.”
Constança’s curiosity is insatiable, forever pushing the boundaries of good and bad taste. “There’s still this idea of what’s good and what’s bad. Of course, I can see the differences, but it bothers me. I also know I’m talking to a niche audience and I’m OK with that.”
Constança hails from the English school of design, where Alexander McQueen or John Galliano’s work combined great rigour, even solemnity, while immersed in irony and magic. As such, she tries to resurrect the idea of character in fashion, of personality, where models are not just serious-looking clothes horses. Even if she wanted to do something more classic, she admits, “I have no skills for it, no technique, no desire. It’s really important we look at things with humour. We’re still a very classist society, which can be aggressive, but often because of a certain ignorance, so we should deal with it with some levity.” There are “always codes and stereotypes and icons, but patience for and tolerance of the aspirational has been lost. It’s most likely politically incorrect by now. Fashion is no longer aspirational because it’s not for everyone. It’s a new way of living we must adapt to.”
One of her causes is sustainability: “I felt that there was a gap in my education. There was little concern about these things in schools. There was recycling in our daily lives, but when it came to production, it was only when I went to university that we needed to know the origin of materials, how this or that technique consumes water or energy. Because it was textile design, sustainability was a cornerstone, a discipline, and that’s what made me think. Obviously, I’m not 100%, but I’m probably 50%. So, I try to make sure that sustainability doesn’t define me. It’s not easy, but I do my best.” For example, the pieces are all handmade in Portugal, and she tries to make them in the same mould and not create stock.
She also works digitally on everything, from the moulds to production planning, so things are efficient. Her raw materials are essentially Portuguese, occasionally Italian, and everything is produced in Portugal. Equally, she is increasingly working with local artisans. “I feel the need to learn new techniques, new ways of doing things, to reinvent them in my own way, trying not to appropriate them.” She’s currently involved in an interiors project for a new restaurant and bar that will open at the end of this year. She’s also looking for artist residencies and places where she can organise projects with artisans from other countries. She says she will enrol in painting classes “to paint more”, as well as “wanting to get more feelings onto paper. I’d love to write more, day-to-day. People don’t write anymore! The press should do something about these influencers - who’s going to stop this? - and revive the importance of writing.” Keenly aware of others’ behaviour, she enjoys observing stereotypes, “analysing them and associating them with the way people dress. But I’ve never thought about whether they were well or badly dressed. That never interests me. Being well dressed doesn’t really matter.”
