The Ninety Nine Percent

Statement of intent handed out at the Matières Fecales ‘The Ninety-Nine Percent’ runway show, Paris, Place de la République:

Freedom was never meant for someone like me. Growing up, no one who looked like me felt free.
I didn’t know it was possible, yet I still chased it every day, hoping I could be it one day.

This is not just a collection; it’s my life story. My name is Steven Raj Bhaskaran, and I’m half of Matières Fécales. I drew and envisioned this whole collection. My creative and life partner, Hannah Rose, supported me at every stage of creating this uncompromising vision. Every look embodies fragments of my childhood and the plurality of people I grew up with.

This collection focuses on empowering those most vulnerable within the Ninety Nine Percent: the marginalized. Ninety Nine models of colour and Ninety Nine looks by a designer of colour. The casting wasn’t just a creative choice; it is a reflection of all the people I grew up with in low-income housing. An homage to the families of colour chasing freedom and opportunity. A message of hope for all the immigrants who are being targeted every day undeservedly. An act of aspiration for all the people of colour who are rarely given the opportunity to thrive and are forced to just survive. A voice for the working class who are tired of building pyramids of power that suppress them.

I want to show my people they are beautiful and worth it. They matter, and they deserve all the freedoms the world can offer. I want to prove our stories, our cultures, and our perspective on beauty are just as valuable as the ones championed in luxury spaces.

My story begins with my mother, Grace. She was born in Guyana but has an Indian heritage. She had to stop school at 9 years old to help raise her 7 siblings, all while living in extreme poverty. She was just a girl when life circumstances robbed her of education, independence and most importantly, choice. She navigated the rest of her life without knowing how to read or write in any language. All she had was her intuition and her faith. She raised me and my sister Shandeal without our Sri Lankan father. She did her best with what she had. She taught me how to survive with a smile.

I had a clear vision of doing the show at Place de la République, a sacred place for the city to voice their opinions and celebrate togetherness. It’s a place of revolution. I think it’s perfect that the first fashion show in history at Place de la République is held by a group of immigrants like us; it symbolizes the progressive future the city is working towards.

The first section of the collection is titled “FAMILY.” The opening drapé look embodies the loving nature of my mother and her endless strength to walk through difficulties while carrying her children on her back. A stream of white looks in our now-signature silhouettes peacefully walks out, drawing a parallel to the purity of my religious upbringing. My family roots are Hindu. Then it changed to Christianity. Following my mom’s second marriage to Mazar, we became a Muslim household. After that marriage ended, we were baptized into Mormonism until I was 14 years old, which is when I built my own faith.

Living in extreme poverty in Montreal allowed me to discover so many different cultures. We were all immigrant kids taken away from our native countries and trying to find belonging in spaces that didn’t really want us or value our differences.

Pure white, black, red and blue silhouettes frame each diverse body. All the pieces have a personal tie to the clothes I grew up around. Multi-layered déchiré sculpted linen suits with leather ties, Thawb-inspired cotton dress shirts with our cross detail, raw-edge hardware silk trenches, and flowy micro-pleated chiffon floor-length skirts paired with modest headscarves are enhanced versions of looks that were part of my upbringing. The Wrapped liège tulle blazers layered over matching cloud-like voluminous skirts are paired with flip-flop curved-heel creations in collaboration with Christian Louboutin, a successful designer of colour from a working-class background who paved the way for someone like me.

Closing this section are my mother, my sister, my niece, and me, all in white ensembles. My real family. The women that shaped me. Although my sister Shandeal fell into the same obstacles as my mom in her youth, she has conquered many of them and devotes her life to creating a bright future for her daughter. At one point, we all slept on the same mattress in a one-bedroom. I would draw while watching my mom get ready to clean the neighbouring apartments for extra income and my sister putting on her uniform to work at KFC at 14, illegally. In the corner of the bed next to the window, I would be sketching the two of them in fantasy couture designs. Drawing a struggle-free life for us, something I thought could only exist through the pencil strokes on paper I would steal from school. Today I walk with them fearlessly by my side to inspire all those families who live like we used to.

The “TRIBE” section storms the Place de République with all the passion and intensity of a bubbling revolution. Military tulle tweed sets, decaying lamb leather capes, and unravelled khaki knit ensembles are worn by collectives of radical identities protesting injustice. In contrast to last season’s red palm Guilt Gloves, we are introducing the Golden Touch gloves, drawing parallels to the talents and gifts of minorities that are often exploited by the one percent.

When I ran away from my religious home to find my tribe in Montreal, it was liberating. I found myself in an underground punk scene where everyone was listening to the same music and liked the same things as me. I felt a sense of belonging like never before. The one issue was that everyone was Caucasian, and I experienced extreme racism in that scene. I was too punk for my family, too brown for my punk friends, and I couldn’t relate to anyone around me. Now, seeing this new generation of people of colour embracing alternative aesthetics and cultures brings me joy, knowing I was never alone. That’s what the POC Punk tribe is about. We layered punk rock leather symbolism with modest oversized printed metal tees. Pierced, metal-spiked brown figures wearing cross-zip skinny leather pants with our new “Stomper” combat boots are exactly the type of friends I wish I had growing up.

To end our protest for change, the Égalité, Liberté, and Fraternité of the Red, White, and Blue are embodied by three strong women in twisted, draped gowns, walking out proudly. For a lot of communities, mothers are often the pillars and frontline leaders protecting our rights.

The conclusion of this orchestra of visual ideas is titled “GODS.”

During the toughest times of my journey, all I had was hope. Hope in something bigger than me, protecting me and guiding me to fulfil my purpose.

Each couture look in the lineup has its own intention. Whether it’s the Déchiré skirt suit made entirely with cotton woven by hand by Cabes Gie, in Burkina Faso, or the draped sarees hand-embroidered by Trif in Varanasi, India, reimagined as decayed 1950s dioresque ball gowns, my message is clear: diversity is power.

I used to be so ashamed of being poor, being coloured and being different, as I thought it was a disadvantage within society. That’s why we all aspire to be rich and privileged, as a sense of protection from the vulnerabilities of life. Now I know my journey and lived experience in all its deepest truths is my biggest strength. I am part of the ninety nine percent, and the visual world I’ve created with my partner Hannah is our manifesto of liberty.

The finale looks embody the defiance and strength of the marginalized within the ninety nine percent. They say a person of colour has to work 10 times harder than their Caucasian counterparts, a saying I and many others in our team can confirm to be true. Models symbolizing our vision of the ninety nine percent walk out defiantly carrying life-like billionaire figures reminiscent of the ones from our FW26 “The One Percent” on their backs around the République statue, the home of freedom of speech in Paris.

As confrontational as this visual may be for some, our collective intention is to signal our hope that, if we unite as the people of the world, with all our differences, we could take down these corrupt power structures and possibly achieve freedom in its purest form: equality.

As Nina Simone’s resurrected voice takes over Paris with our final proclamation:

Tomorrow is my turn
No more doubts, no more fears
Tomorrow is my turn