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It’s dawn in the middle of the Utah desert, and Haider Ackermann and I are sitting in canvas chairs, watching the light bathe the red plains gold and illuminate the vast rock formations that punctuate the horizon. I am in my nightdress; he is wearing a T-shirt beneath a yellow silk robe, his slippers threadbare from dancing all night under the stars. I have come to understand this as his morning wardrobe: every day that we have spent here, he has woken at dawn, thrown on something unimaginably chic, and sat silhouetted, silent, against the landscape while his coterie of guests emerge from their tents (I, too excited to sleep, have unexpectedly been the first to rise from mine).
In the midst of this vast expanse, we couldn’t feel further from anything – certainly from the caviar-laden baked potatoes and high-octane shows of fashion week, which is where I’m most used to finding him. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “This is luxury,” Ackermann says, with a smile. “When you are so far away from home, you are so much closer to yourself. Time stands still.”
We are here, in the middle of nowhere, to mark the arrival of his new Snow Goose collection for Canada Goose – the second under his tenure at the brand. When, last year, Ackermann was appointed as its creative director, it appeared as left-field a decision as inviting 15 people to a landlocked desert. His most recent project had been a couture collection for Jean Paul Gaultier, where his laser-focused grace earned him a spot at the top of industry gossip lists for myriad luxury house vacancies. His previous roles, both at his namesake brand and Berluti, saw him renowned for his languid drapery and exquisite elegance. Canada Goose, meanwhile, is most famous for its rugged outdoorswear, so the two weren’t necessarily an obvious fit. “I needed to take a road which was not my direct road,” Ackermann, who “never owned a puffer before”, explains. “Because, sometimes, those are the most beautiful ones. The fact that they trusted me with this responsibility, I was very intrigued. It was seductive.”
Ackermann describes what has manifested since as a love affair, partially informed by an upbringing spent travelling the world, from Europe to Africa, with his cartographer father, and partially by the Canada Goose archives. It’s a dalliance that, despite his appointment as the creative director at Tom Ford just months after his announcement at Canada Goose, shows no signs of waning. “I feel like a kid, full of enthusiasm,” he says. “This is just the beginning. And perhaps the fact that I’m seeing it all through innocent eyes helps.”
The past days have been drenched in that spirit: helicopter rides to the peak of sacred rocks 1,611 metres above sea level; jumping into the lush rivers we discover between canyons; horse riding through the plains at sunset. Our Navajo guide, storyteller Eli Secody, teaches us about the stars and the fire and the land he and his people have inhabited since time immemorial. At one point, he speaks so profoundly that, one by one, everyone in our circle begins to cry, then hug each other. Among our exploratory collective are artists, writers, curators, photographers. In fact, Ackermann discreetly explained that the invitation list was based on friendship and vibes rather than social media following; mine came because of a chance encounter between the two of us last summer in the middle of British Columbia – me, fresh out a kayak, he exploring the wilderness with his partner, a tent on the roof of their van. Our post-trip WhatsApp group is filled with effusive messages of gratitude and promises to all holiday together again. It feels more like we’ve all formed a commune than embarked on a Canada Goose expedition.
Whereas usually, travelling with a fashion brand incorporates an immersion into its world alongside a coach-load of press – and certainly no shared bathrooms – what Ackermann is trying to do with his appointment at Canada Goose is simply immerse people into the world at large. “I had this idea just to share these moments with people; with old friends and new friends,” he explains. “It s all about togetherness. I think it’s really, really important nowadays – more than ever.”
There’s a generous assortment of his new Snow Goose collection assembled in each of our tents: water-resistant, lime-green hot pants well-suited to the desert heatwave; khaki parkas fit for helicoptering; jogging pants for when we gather late at night by the firepits. Unprompted, everyone integrates the pieces into their wardrobes. Some roll their shorts shorter still; others knot and layer their sky-blue tees (bearing phrases like “can you hear the birds?”) underneath their own outerwear; and everyone becomes besotted with the hiking boots, which feel light even in 40 degree heat. The collection is curiously compelling – the socks come in unexpected pastels; the parka shells in lime neon; the trousers unzip into hot pants – and, even more curiously for an outdoors brand, it’s sexy. “I wanted to reach warm places, not only to keep you warm in the cold ones,” says Ackermann. “I want it to be playful; sexy. Outerwear is always so serious.”
Seeing these pieces remixed feels part of the purpose: “There’s an eccentricity to it, with the guests that we’re inviting, that hopefully one day will reflect into the clothes, into outerwear,” adds Ackermann. “The way everyone is wearing these pieces – I will be taking it home with me and, at some point, maybe a language will come out of it. Plus, there’s a kind of madness to seeing the clothes in a different context – when you’re searching for elegance, there must be something mad about it.” To be honest, nobody looked better in the collection than Ackermann on the back of a horse (although, renowned photographer Jack Pierson gave him a run for his money in the short shorts). In a recession climate saturated with campaigns pushing product like never before, his romantic approach to the re-brand appears distinctly him: elegant.
One of my fellow guests put it aptly when he noted that, essentially, we were all on a group holiday planned by two people very much in love (Ackermann and his partner were the dual architects of our experience); the rest of the experience felt almost incidental. When I bring that up with Ackermann, he beams. “Clothes have a soul,” he says. “They’re not just pieces of fabric; they capture a moment. Maybe I’m too emotional a guy but when you have a bomber and you’ve worn it to a party or rock concert, you remember that moment whenever you wear it. It’s all about feelings. The world is quite difficult and complicated at the moment. So, if we can bring some joy to it… we must.” If his vision for Canada Goose remains rooted in that energy, its success seems sure-footed, no matter the terrain.