Charles Jeffrey and Christopher Kane have a lot in common. They both grew up near Hamilton, Scotland; they both moved to London at the age of 17; they both went to Central Saint Martins; they’re both Leos. They also both launched eponymous independent brands, just under a decade apart — and they have a lot of thoughts on what it takes to scale as an indie label in Britain.
Ahead of each of his shows, Jeffrey — who founded his label, Charles Jeffrey Loverboy, in 2014 — has made a habit of calling up an industry friend to share opinions, advice, and to just have a chat. When he joins the call with Kane and I from a workshop, his hands are covered in paint: Jeffrey has been painting huge murals for his Fall/Winter 2026 show, which takes place on Saturday, January 24, during Paris Fashion Week Men’s. Kane — who founded his label in 2006 and became one of the defining British designers of the 2010s — is dialing in from London, having a much calmer (and less paint-filled) evening, after stepping away from the traditional runway calendar in 2022, despite remaining active in the industry.
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We spoke about growing up in Scotland (including yours truly), improving access for working-class creatives, and why young designers should be allowed to fail.
Below is an edited version of that conversation.
Vogue: How long have you guys known each other?
Charles: I’ve got a funny story. I did work experience in high school at a modeling agency called Model Team Scotland — I must have been about 15 or something. I was saying to a guy I worked with, Scotty, how much I loved Christopher Kane, and he was like, ‘I was just speaking to Christopher Kane [about] models — I’ve got his number.’ I was like, ‘Shut up!’ So Scotty went out for a lunch break and I went to his computer and got your number, Christopher, and I texted saying, ‘Hi Debbie, I’m going to pick up the car keys later.’ You replied saying, ‘Who’s this? This isn’t Debbie, this is Christopher Kane.’ I actually had an out-of-body experience. Then, I texted back like, ‘Oh my God, Christopher, I love your work so much.’ I’m pretty sure you blocked me after that.
Christopher: I mean, I’ve done worse things. Why Deborah though? I love that Scottish people are always in your face.
Vogue: So Charles, how has it been prepping for the show?
Charles: During Christmas, I seriously thought we wouldn’t do anything. Our show budget got cut; because of everything with tariffs and Ssense, we lost a lot of money. Then, on the first day back, I said, ‘Guys we’re not doing anything,’ and my colleague Naomi, who’s basically my version of Tammy [Kane, Christopher’s sister and business partner], was like, ‘Don’t you dare.’ So loads of people pulled through — sponsors, a band — and it’s going to be really scrappy. But I think we’ve just got to show the kids that this is business; you’ve got to try and make the magic happen. And it’s been really cathartic prepping for the show, painting these big bodies of work, so I’ve just leaned into that.
Christopher: Yeah, you don’t seem nervous whatsoever. You’re a bit of a polymath, you’ve always done your music and entrepreneurial club nights, and in fashion nowadays you have to be like that.
Charles: Obviously we went to the same school, and [Central] Saint Martins is really big on that.
Christopher: We were very lucky we went to a great art school — Saint Martins really made me, and I’m sure it made you. I moved down to London when I was 17, and Saint Martins was the best thing for a young gay guy who’s living in a working-class industrial town. It was really my get-out-of-jail-free card, but I would never change being brought up in a council estate in Scotland, it made me who I am.
Vogue: Do you feel that class barriers and access have become tougher over the years, even as we talk more about diversity and access as an industry?
Charles: I go back and teach at Saint Martins, and the professors notice that the students are just getting richer and richer because of the way things are set up — fees are so expensive and living in London is so expensive. I still have so much hope and love for London, but it’s become a lot less inhabitable for working-class people. I probably got the last chunk of it, in 2007, seeing guys like Christopher, Gareth Pugh, Louise Gray, Marios Schwab, Pam Hogg — there was a connection between working-class people and the small steps you could take to get to the top. Now, things are so measured and kids have to pull these huge stunts to get attention, but they’re desperate to succeed because of how high the fees are.
Christopher: I was probably the last group who got a grant from Scotland to move down. There were class differences, but you’d step into college and we were all together because we could make mistakes. You had time, and there was no social media, so it was less competitive. You didn’t need to be an apex predator.
Vogue: Do you feel that carries through to when you’ve left school and you’re building a brand?
Christopher: Creativity was definitely validated more back then. Now, there’s such an industry of cloning — and that’s great for people like you, Charles, because you can stand out — but that’s not fashion for me. You should love it or hate it, it shouldn’t be so normalized and vanilla that you’re like, ‘next’. There was also more of a culture around fashion week when I graduated. You could ask someone on the street and they’d know it was fashion week. Nowadays, they care more about Frieze. It’s not the same as in Milan or Paris, where it’s on the cover of every newspaper, which is sad — we contribute a huge amount to the economy but we’re not taken seriously.
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Vogue: Why do you think that’s the case?
Charles: There’s not as much investment in the manufacturing industry in the UK. We’ve got these historical northern towns where they used to make industrial clothing, but because we shipped that out to other countries to make it cheaper, we’ve not got a name for ourselves or that infrastructure anymore.
Christopher: You’re right to do something in Paris, because that’s where the industry goes, unfortunately. They used to come to London, but they don’t come as much anymore. In Paris, you can go to one house party and see every industry person you need to.
Charles: I’d come back to London in a heartbeat, but until I start to diversify my income through beauty and couture, I’m at the mercy of wholesale. So I’m doing a little presentation in Paris and hoping it will get me a return on my wholesale.
Vogue: What have you each learned about what it takes to survive as a British brand in this environment?
Christopher: I think it’s to be really talented — also hard work and resilience — but I do think it’s to be the most creative. London is known for that, so the more radical the better — that’s what gets the optics. When you go to Milan or Paris, there is that culture of fashion, but some of the brands blend into one another. I want something that stands out and gets my heart rate going. You need a really strong tone and to be fearless in your outlook, while understanding what came before you and what’s not going to work.
Charles: I agree. After being with my investors for the last five years, I want to return to the Loverboy look. To influence the way people dress, you have to be repetitive, but also very singular and specific and strong, and experiment within that consistent vision. That’s what we’re doing with the show: returning to the attitude I had when I was doing club nights, when it was a creative endeavor and we were making sets, working with live acts and pulling friends together to make a fashion moment.
Vogue: I’ve heard some people talk about what it would mean to decentralize the British fashion industry — so create access outside London by improving education, funding or infrastructure. What would that look like to you?
Charles: I think it’s about creating more grants and opportunities for people in different areas so they can start businesses, access higher education, or even funding more apprenticeships. Going back to the point about local manufacturing — is there a way we can link designers up with certain manufacturers who have a localized product, so they can get a name behind them? Or offer apprenticeships to make factories exciting again? Because honestly, sitting and making something with your hands everyday is such a joy.
Vogue: So if you had to give advice to a 17-year-old working-class Scottish kid — or anyone who grew up outside a major fashion capital — who wants to become a fashion designer, what would you say?
Charles: Find something you can generate a lot of — something you enjoy, that you can keep doing and coming back to, that doesn’t take up too much emotional energy and that doesn’t take a huge amount of money — whether it’s painting or art or writing or hosting parties or making music or clothing. Then, use that to signal who you are. I’ve realized that there are moments where you spend loads of money doing shows or on marketing, but when that money goes, what can you return back to that still garners attention and magic?
Christopher: I just don’t want to see anything I’ve seen before. Fashion is very emotional and personal. Give me something that’s creative, do something that’s truly yours.
