The Business of Fashion Podcast

Earlier this month, A Ma Maniére — one part of James Whitner's The Whitaker Group — was named one of BoF's Best Fashion Stores in the World, our definitive global list of retailers with the most distinctive edits and experiences.

Whitner has spent twenty years building an independent retail business that operates more than 20 stores across 16 US cities — many of them in Black neighbourhoods that mainstream retail had overlooked — based on the feeling he got hanging out in barbershops and sneaker spots growing up in Pittsburgh.

“The best things happen in the barbershop — the most interesting conversations on the block are in the barbershop,” Whitner says. “And once I got some money, going shopping … [was about] how you were serviced, the relationships you had with those people and how good you felt entering and exiting the space. The social currency tied to looking good was about feeling good.”

Back in February 2025, James spoke to me about the discipline behind the business, how he's built brand partnerships that actually last, and why he believes community development, not just retail, is where he needs to head next.

Key Insights:

Learning to Operate Before Chasing Scale: Whitner is candid about the unglamorous groundwork behind Whitaker Group's growth — five years learning to operate, and then another five building brand partnerships. "You have got to understand how to keep costs down, how to build an infrastructure while keeping costs down," he says.

Brand Partners Who Play the Long Game: Whitner is blunt about who he'll work with. "If you want to work with brands who want to be for everybody, that means you're for nobody," he says. On scaling a business built on cultural credibility: "This is an industry that you can scale, but it's not built for scale."

Nike and the Trust in Storytelling: Whitner credits an authentic relationship with Nike for the Whitaker Group's most successful drops. "Nike loves us because we're uniquely us for them... nothing scales better than a great story," he says, previewing a tighter, more intentional distribution strategy.

From Retail to Real Community Development: Community development has become central to Whitner's business, with completed projects including Social Status Detroit — a $5.5 million redevelopment on the city's east side — and The Collective on Tuckaseegee, a ten-space retail compound in Charlotte. "At some point, realising that we needed to be the developer that helped shape the community," he says. “It's more important for us to drive connections and just try to help people who want to help people."

Additional Resources:
The Best Fashion Stores in the World | BoF
The Independent Retailer Built on Prioritising Black Buying Power | BoF
The Whitaker Group Expands With New Women-Centric Retailer Jaide | BoF

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For a long time, upcycling sat on the fringes of the fashion industry, a tactic used primarily by small independent designers, niche sustainability labels and in one-off capsule collections. That's changing. At Paris Couture Week this spring, Swiss designer Kevin Germanier closed the season with a collection made entirely from excess inventory across seven LVMH-owned brands. Coach is turning used denim into new bags, and Uniqlo is remaking unsellable and used garments under its RE label.

In this episode, senior correspondent Sheena Butler-Young speaks to senior editorial associate Shayeza Walid to explore why upcycling brands are increasingly marketing upcycling through creativity and individuality rather than sustainability alone, and what's really driving the shift from new EU regulations to a changing consumer mindset.

Key Insights:
Selling Creativity, Not Just Conscience: Walid points to a fundamental shift in how upcycling is marketed. It's no longer framed primarily as an environmental fix, but as a source of design distinction and story. "It felt like the term was becoming ubiquitous across marketing," she says, noting that upcycling has moved from something "relegated to a certain type of consumer or a certain type of brand" to being claimed by some of the industry's biggest names.
Regulation Is Quietly Doing the Heavy Lifting: Walid connects the timing of the boom to the EU's ban on the destruction of unsold goods, which came into force in July. She notes that Kevin Germanier's LVMH-backed couture collection was deliberately built from unsold stock, not deadstock fabric — a distinction he emphasised on stage. "It also means that they'll have to figure out sustainable and approved ways for using their excess stock, and upcycling is one of the methods for that."
Deadstock vs. Textile Waste — Not the Same Debate: Walid unpacks a live tension among practitioners: using deadstock fabric is being challenged by some critics as not addressing overproduction, since it still puts commercial value on excess production. "With deadstock, it's the same as using new fabric in the sense that they're rolls of fabric... that's not necessarily what upcycling is about," while brands like E.L.V. Denim work directly with used, discarded garments instead.
The Infrastructure Is Finally Catching Up: Sorting, collecting and sourcing — the industry's biggest upcycling bottleneck — is improving. Walid cites organisations like Fashion for Good working on AI-assisted sorting, and platforms such as Nona Source and The Materialist connecting brands to deadstock fabric. "There's a greater design interest in it now more than there's ever been," she says of the shift she's tracked through conversations with suppliers.
The Consumer Wants Range, Not a Label: Walid argues the audience for upcycled product has broadened well beyond the sustainability shopper. "You could have an upcycled Miu Miu product today, and maybe that says that you like high fashion... but also you think it's cool that your product is from an upcycled material," she says, describing a consumer who wants variety in their closet rather than to be defined by one aesthetic or ethic.
Scale Remains the Unsolved Problem: Despite the momentum, there are limits. Sizing and colour inconsistency frustrate wholesale buyers, the process is inherently slower than working with virgin material, and export bans on used textiles in countries like Bangladesh complicate sourcing. She also flags that upcyclers in the Global South — in markets like Kantamanto in Ghana — have done this sort of work for generations but remain largely excluded from the value chain brands are now building.

Additional Resources:
Why So Many Fashion Brands Are Upcycling | BoF
Why Fashion’s Economics Work Against Sustainable Brands | BoF
Can the EU Ban on Destroying Unsold Goods Actually Work? | BoF

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I've been interviewing Nick Knight for more than 15 years. This is our fourth in-depth, sit-down interview. At this stage, it's become something closer to a running conversation about how technology is reshaping fashion.

This time around, I wanted to know where Nick is focusing his energy now. It turns out, he is building his own AI datasets from scratch — photographing a model over and over so the machine sees the world only through his references, and never scrapes the internet for somebody else's. He takes his own still image and asks the AI to make it move, producing something that is neither a photograph nor a film.

I also asked him for the advice he'd give to young image-makers starting out today, in the age of AI. This week on The BoF Podcast, Nick and I get into what happened to the metaverse, how Nick believes AI is creating an entirely new medium somewhere between photography and film, and what fulfilment really means to one of fashion's defining image-makers.

Key Insights:

The Metaverse Didn't Disappear, It Rebranded: Knight argues the concept never really went away, but was tainted by association once Facebook was renamed Meta. He says, "I don't think it's necessarily drifted away. I think the term's been, to some degree, cancelled because it had too many bad connotations,” he said. "The metaverse is just a digital version of life, that's absolutely happening."

Building Proprietary Datasets to Escape the Echo Chamber: Knight's studio creates its own AI models rather than pulling from tools trained on the wider internet, specifically to avoid reproducing past photographers' work. He explains the method: "We've done a conventional session where I photographed the model lots and lots of times, and lots and loads of clothes, et cetera, and that's my data set," which is then fed into the AI, "so it sees the world only through those references."

Referencing Isn't Plagiarism, Copying Is: Knight pushes back on the idea that AI imagery is inherently derivative, arguing that all creative work draws on a subconscious library of influence — human or artificial. "When you walk around a museum, go around the V&A, you are taking in Botticellis, and you're taking in 20th century furniture... they go into your brain... so it's your frame of reference. AI does the same sort of thing." But he draws a hard line at direct imitation: "There's no satisfaction in copying an existing piece of work."

Fashion Models Should Own Their Own Digital Likeness: Knight argues that AI could extend a fashion model's career well beyond its traditionally short, youth-focused span — but only if the model, not the agency or brand, controls the rights. "I think that fashion models need to own their own digital likeness. Now, I've spoken to a lot of model agencies and there is virtually nothing happening to make sure that happens," he says, adding that agencies have little financial incentive to invest in it.

Fame, Money and Power Are "False Goals": Asked what he's chasing if not happiness, Knight rejects the premise outright. "Fame is a false goal. Money is a false goal. Power is a false goal. He locates his own fulfilment elsewhere: "My interaction with people in the studio, my interaction with my wife and my family... it comes from the human interaction with all people around me."

Additional Resources:
Nick Knight Says Heart and Mind are the Key to Fashion Imagemaking | BoF
The BoF Podcast | Inside The Future of Fashion Image Making with Nick Knight
The BoF Podcast | Nick Knight on Why the Metaverse Is Fashion's Next Frontier | BoF

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For years, follower count was the clearest shorthand for a creator's value — more followers meant more reach, more brand deals, more money. But social media doesn't work that way anymore. TikTok's For You page, Instagram's suggested posts and other algorithmically curated feeds mean creators can reach huge audiences without those people ever following them. At the same time, affiliate marketing platforms like LTK and ShopMy are giving brands a much clearer picture of who actually drives sales, with smaller creators often outperforming bigger names.

In this episode, senior correspondent Sheena Butler-Young talks to BoF US Editor Diana Pearl about how brands and creators are rethinking the value of an audience, and where creator value is headed next.

Key Insights:

A huge following no longer guarantees cultural weight. Pearl points to the gap between raw numbers and actual impact: "You look at someone like Dixie D'Amelio, who has almost 54 million followers on TikTok... but I would not say [she is] as culturally relevant as someone like Alex Earle, who has not even 9 million followers on TikTok."
New platforms have made it possible to see exactly who is driving sales, not just who has the biggest audience. As Pearl explains, "ShopMy really changed that — they offer brands a lot more insight into which creators are actually driving sales, even if they're not running a paid partnership."
TikTok's For You page and Instagram's suggested posts have done more than any other shift to break the link between followers and visibility. "Those are the two primary factors that have really diminished the importance of follower count," she says, "because you can have someone with 300 followers who goes viral."
The single most important quality a creator can build today resists easy measurement. "Trust is the number one most important thing that an influencer or creator can curate today," Pearl says, "and that trust is not something that can necessarily be measured by metrics on a spreadsheet."
Chasing every viral trend is a losing strategy — consistency is what builds a durable audience. "Playing the long game is really the best strategy," she says. "Staying true to who you are — that's how you build that community. That is how you built that trust in that community."

Additional Resources:
Why Follower Count Matters Less Than Ever | BoF
Not All Creators Convert. Here's How to Find Those That Do. | BoF
From Hype to Discipline: The New World of Influencer Marketing | Case Study | BoF

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

When the designer Kelly Wearstler was five or six years old, she made little drawings and small sculptures out of cans and cartons, laid them out on the table at family gatherings, and put price tags on them.
She grew up in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, raised by what she calls fiercely independent women who took her to thrift stores, flea markets and auctions. She got her first job at 13. She studied graphic design in Boston, apprenticed in New York with Milton Glaser, the designer behind the I Love New York logo, and then moved to Los Angeles where she waited tables at a Beverly Hills restaurant until one of her regulars became her first client.

Today her design studio runs to 60 people and six verticals — interiors, architecture, licensing, creative direction, a gallery and a Substack newsletter. And next month she launches a 29-piece collection with H&M Home: the first time the retailer has put furniture into a designer collaboration, and the first time it has worked with one designer across both home and fashion.
This week on The BoF Podcast, Kelly joins Amed to talk about advocating for herself before she had any track record, what waiting tables taught her about designing restaurants and how she is using AI inside her studio.

Key Insights:
A Design Education Built on Flea Markets, Not Classrooms: Wearstler's earliest design instincts weren't taught — they were foraged. Without the money to buy expensive pieces, she and her family combed thrift stores and auctions for scarves, magazines and furniture. "I think that really kind of educated my eye in so many different elements of design," she says. "I love typography and I think that really came from the magazines and what really resonated with me and evoked an emotion."

Advocating for Herself: Wearstler talked her way into designing her first hotel despite having no commercial design experience, on the condition she partnered with an architecture firm that had. Asked where she found the confidence to push for it, she traces it straight back to her upbringing: "It really went back to my childhood, like both my grandmothers worked. They were so independent... whatever you want to do, you can accomplish. It's hard work. It's not gonna be easy. And it has to be fuelled with passion and curiosity, period." She simply refused to let the "no" stick: "I just kept on going. I really wanted this project."

A "Why" Rooted in How Spaces Make People Feel: Asked what drives her, Wearstler points to the emotional residue her spaces leave behind. "There's nothing better than to go into one of the lobbies of the hotels that we worked in," she says. "We used to see people coming back over and over again. And they always tell me how they love being in this space. It makes them feel so good."

Fashion and Design as One Continuous Language: Wearstler doesn't separate how a home is curated from how a person dresses — both are storytelling. "It's like how you dress and your design, your home, your curation style really is a form of self-expression," she says. "I really don't see design and fashion living in separate rooms."

Legitimising Mass Market Through Design Pedigree: For Wearstler, H&M's history of designer collaborations — not its price point — made the partnership make sense. "If you look just like in the past, I remember early 2000 when they did the Karl Lagerfeld collaboration ... They're really the pioneers of collaborating with designers," she says, citing Margiela's archival collection as another reference point. She argues scale and craft aren't opposed: "It's all in the economies of scale ... You have to really be a great designer, know how to take perhaps a humble material and make it shine."

Additional Resources:
The Acts of Love Behind Milan Design Week | BoF
BoF VOICES 2023: An Inflection Point for AI | BoF
What Stood Out at Salone | BoF

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.