Trickster

In this candid chat, former Dior menswear designer Hans Schwarz shares what it’s like to go from designing clothes to crafting spaces—and why sometimes you need to quit a dream job to find yourself. Dive in to hear about fashion egos, unemployment, one-way tickets to Paris, and the struggle of being defined by your work.

When it was time for my exchange from EKA, I was the only one in my fashion design course who couldn’t get into the school I applied for. I was crushed at first, but then I thought, "fuck it." I wanted to see if I could make it on my own, so I bought a one-way ticket to Paris. And the rest is history. As our professors warned us right from the start, the industry is brutal—you’re like little lemons that get squeezed until all the juice is out. But I was happy to do it! The creativity, the travel, the taste of luxury—it was so, so, so worth it. Working at Dior was everything I dreamed of and then some. But just to be clear, 85% of my job was problem-solving, emailing, and traveling. The remaining 15%? Actual creative work.

Yes. But you didn’t hear it from me. Creative people generally have bigger egos, which means more drama, flamboyance, and sometimes, back-stabbing. But there are really sweet souls too. So—it’s a strong cocktail.

It was a hell of a feeling to see my designs picked out for shows, then worn by celebs, then by people on the streets. So yeah, I was definitely proud of myself. My dream when I started uni was to work as a designer at a big fashion house, and I made that happen.

After working at Dior for 5 years, my next step was to change brands to climb the ladder. But looking at the people in those jobs, I wasn’t inspired. They often had no private lives or goals outside of work. I felt like I’d fulfilled my initial dream, but I was overworked and uninspired—it was the perfect time for a break. Luckily, I’d worked there long enough to leave on good terms and finance my unemployed time. After I quit, a lot of people told me they envied my decision—they were overworked and tired but didn’t have the courage to take the leap. I realized that for many people, especially in France, it’s about pride, privilege, and comfort. But I’d bought myself a one-way ticket and worked my way up, so I felt like, what’s the worst that could happen? Needing to find another job? That’s not the worst. Staying unhappy because you’re afraid to make a change is worse. The good old being defined by your job is such a big thing, especially in the fashion industry. I work hard to let go of it—and push other people to do it as well. I really needed that time off to travel, physically as well as within myself, to get inspired again and figure out what I wanted to do next.

I arrived at the idea of interior design after taking the time off. Career counseling helped—a month-long group course where I realized I still wanted to work with color, form, textile, and shape, but not necessarily for the body. More for the spaces around me. I also wanted to sign off on my own projects, so my creative ego played a part in the leap too.

I’ve been at it for a month now, and honestly, it feels like I’ve been transported back to my uni days. I’m sleep-deprived, have no time to see my friends or go out, and spend my nights doing schoolwork. The learning curve is steep, and it’s intense. I haven’t cried yet, like many of my course mates, but I feel the time is coming—soon, probably.

Oh, yes. There are moments when I question myself, but I’ve been there before. I know from experience that you just have to push through and see what’s on the other side.

I’ve been here 12 years, so it’s definitely home now. I still love the energy, the beauty, the culture, the arts—all of it. On my way to work/school, I stop and smell it all. It’s a cliché, but I love clichés.

For sure, yes. Tallinn holds a very special place in my heart, and I find myself missing it from time to time. I’ve been away for so long that each visit feels like I'm an excited tourist, discovering new spots. There’s also a fresh wave of creativity in Tallinn, led by a new generation of artists, which I really admire. Ideally, I’d love to have projects not just in Paris and Tallinn, but all around the world, why the hell not!

Every normal person hits creative blocks, so yeah, I do too. I’ve always been a big procrastinator and tend to do things last-minute. Like, all-nighters-at-uni last minute. But what I lack in time management, I make up for with hard work. One of my professors once said that talent is nothing and hard work is everything and I totally agree. I think I’m somewhat talented, but most of my success comes from hard work. Now, at 33, I’m relearning how to work better, let go of some of that perfectionism, and be less self-consuming.

Clothing made from crap material that’s overpriced. And honestly, all garments without pockets—what are they thinking?

Absolutely. All the work with materials, textiles, and draping has carried over. The principles are the same, but now I’m designing for spaces instead of bodies. I think it really enriches my work as an interior designer.

First and foremost, have fun. Then make sure the design is beautiful. And ideally, it should be practical.

So… the story goes back to my great-great-great-grandparents—four brothers who were all tailors in the old town of Tallinn. My great-grandmother even showed me an article that said the Schwarz family business was the oldest in Estonia at one point. Digging through archives and seeing their old logos and ads in newspapers has really inspired me to pursue my own brand.

Yes! Both demand a ton of hard work and discipline. Discipline is definitely one of the greatest gifts that years of swimming gave me. You have to be ready to put in the monotonous work because no one’s going to hand you wonderful opportunities just like that. It’s like they say—everyone wants the view, but no one wants to climb.