The Artful Duality of Georgiela Studio

How Georgina José Transforms Fabric, Form, and Emotion into Sculptural Wearable Fashion

Georgiela Studio is an independent brand based in Barcelona, founded in 2019 by Georgina José. Known for its retro-futuristic, avant-garde, and timeless designs, the brand emphasizes the reuse of fabrics to promote inclusivity and sustainability. Georgiela Studio masterfully balances textures created from gathers, femininity, and the fusion of handcraft with modern silhouettes. The designs contrast fluid fabrics like lingerie and tulle with exaggerated volumes and rigid structures, resulting in unique, one-of-a-kind pieces that coexist with opposing trends.

The brand was born out of Georgina’s frustration with the fashion industry after years of working in haute couture houses in Paris and fast fashion brands in Barcelona. Tired of an industry where creativity often takes a backseat to replication, she founded Georgiela Studio as a space for true artistic expression—where intuition, experimentation, and craftsmanship take precedence over mass production.

At the helm of Georgiela Studio, Georgina explores the relationship between fabric, form, and the human body. Her design process is instinctive, beginning with freehand sketches rather than structured concepts, allowing the pieces to evolve organically. In this interview, she shares the inspirations behind her work, the emotional layers embedded in her designs, and her vision for the future of Georgiela Studio.

Pilar Alvarado: How would you describe it—from conceptualization to the finished garment? What role do your emotions, experiences, or artistic references play?
Georgina: Well, the design process is probably the most complex part because it requires so much focus. Aside from working on my brand, I also have a job in a fashion company, so I’m constantly balancing both worlds. When I start a new collection, I need to be completely focused on the creative process.

It all begins with a series of ideas—sometimes inspired by trips I take for work. My experiences as a designer in the company naturally influence my personal brand, Georgiela Studio, so there’s always a mix between the two. First, I make a lot of sketches, adding details and refining them. Once I settle on a design, I send it to the pattern maker, who creates the first prototype. From there, we go through multiple modifications until we reach the final prototype, which is made in the original fabric.

Since I create so many prototypes, I often work with fabric stock. But sometimes, this becomes frustrating—if I run out of fabric after the first version, I have to search for a similar one because the original is no longer available. Even after the final piece is made, there are still fitting adjustments, color choices, and finishing touches to consider. The whole process is a whirlwind of emotions, but it’s incredibly inspiring.

PA: It sounds like you’re constantly balancing that artistic and commercial side.

GS: Yes, exactly! I think about that all the time. My job requires me to design commercial pieces, while my brand is much more artistic. There’s always this internal push and pull—how far can I go? Should I rein it in? Am I making it too commercial or not commercial enough? It’s a constant struggle between those two sides of me.

PA: It’s like a duality in your work.
GS: Yes, absolutely. I love that you see it that way. I think it reflects in how I approach design. I don’t start with a fixed concept or a structured story like many designers do. Instead, I begin by drawing, exploring ideas freely. I love sketching details—especially things like pleats and gathers. My collections are very timeless and artistic, but I always find myself pulled back toward the commercial side. It’s that same duality again.

In school, they always teach you to start with a mood board—an idea, a color palette, textures—but I tend to work the other way around. I start sketching ideas first, and then the rest of the collection evolves from there.

PA: HA! so even your process feels more artistic than commercial.
GS: Yes! In a traditional design process, you’re expected to establish a concept first. But I break that barrier—I work more like an artist. It’s intuitive. I follow what inspires me in the moment, what feels right. My approach is much more fluid, evolving day by day, even month by month.

PA:  Are there recurring elements in your collections that draw from art, nature, or cultural events? I know you said you don’t work with a specific theme, but is there something that naturally sparks your creativity?
GS: I don’t follow a specific theme, but I find inspiration in architecture, objects, and details—whether it’s the lines of a chair or the structure of a painting. I notice everything around me. When I walk down the street, I might see a building or a tree and feel inspired by its shape or movement.

I’m not someone who takes inspiration from movies, theater, or books—I honestly don’t have time for that. My inspiration comes from my own experiences, the places I visit, the things I see while traveling, even the colors and forms I encounter in everyday life.

That’s why I love the idea of seeing my pieces displayed in an art gallery. My passion isn’t just about fashion—it’s about creating something that could exist as a sculptural piece in a museum. Sometimes, when I design, I ask myself: Could this piece belong in a gallery? Could it exist beyond just being worn? That idea really excites me.

PA: That makes so much sense. Your work feels sculptural, and in concept, I can see some parallels to designers like Dries Van Noten.

GS: Yeah, I can see that too—not necessarily in the visual style, but more in the concept. I don’t have one fixed artistic reference, but I definitely resonate with minimalism—that idea of elegance, sophistication, and precision, but with a complexity beneath the surface. I think that’s the kind of art I gravitate toward.

PA:  This question connects to what we were discussing earlier—how your conceptual vision translates into pieces that are both contemporary and wearable. You mentioned that you don’t necessarily see your work as commercial, and I wouldn’t define it as purely commercial either. But when I looked at your designs, I thought, I would wear this dress to a wedding. Or, I could go out partying in this top. I feel that your pieces, while artistic, still have a clarity that makes them wearable—perhaps appealing to someone with a deep appreciation for fabric and silhouette. Would you say that balance is something you consciously think about?

GS: I definitely feel like I exist somewhere between two worlds. My designs lean more toward being museum-worthy, but I always find myself returning to the commercial side. Many people tell me, You know, your work is something people would actually wear; it’s not just for display. And that’s true—I recognize that. I think that’s why I’m in this space between sculptural pieces that could belong in a gallery and wearable fashion that people would seek out for editorial shoots. Then there’s the purely commercial aspect—what I have in stores, which is more basic. But overall, I cater to a niche audience—bold individuals who want to wear something truly unique.

Right now, I feel like I’m at a crossroads, balancing between these two, even three, paths. But I embrace it.

PA: Are you planning anything new for this year? Maybe a collaboration, brand expansion, or a shift in creative direction—like leaning further into the sculptural aspect of your work? I was also looking at your Instagram and noticed you’ve worked with jewelry in past collections, which I found fascinating.

GS: Yes! I’ve always collaborated with an artist who works with glass. What I love about working with her is that we share a very creative mindset—we let our ideas go a little wild. Typically, I sketch out the concept of what I want, and she brings it to life. Even though the pieces are entirely hers, our collaboration allows us to create something special for runway shows. We’ve done three shows together because glass, with its volume and fragility, aligns so well with my aesthetic.

However, I’ve taken a break from doing shows because I was invited to participate in Barcelona Fashion Week, but I didn’t feel like it was the right fit. My focus is now on Paris.

Paris is interesting because I started out there in a showroom setting, which is more wholesale-oriented. That means I have to balance creativity with commercial viability. My showroom contact in Paris constantly tells me that I’m too creative, that I need to scale it down by 30%. It’s a constant internal debate. For my upcoming Autumn-Winter collection, I’m presenting in Paris, but this time, it’s a more commercial capsule—one or two standout pieces, but mostly wearable designs that meet the showroom’s balance requirements.

I’ve also structured the collection around black pieces, allowing for a few bold, colorful statement designs. The idea is to create three levels—classic basics, mid-range wearable pieces, and then the more explosive, artistic designs. The presentation is set for March.

Beyond that, I’m receiving proposals for new projects, but time is a constraint. My goal is to expand in Paris, moving away from wholesale and towards an actual runway show. That’s my next dream, my next big step.

PA: A runway show would allow you to control the storytelling and exclusivity of your designs, rather than just being part of a broader showcase.

GS: Exactly. I also look at other Spanish designers, like Paula Cánovas and Sonia Carrasco, who have managed to establish themselves in Paris through private exhibitions outside of Fashion Week. They have support now, and they’ve taken those steps. I hope that this year brings similar opportunities for me. I’m not in a rush—I want things to evolve naturally. It’s all brewing for now.

PA: One thing that really stood out to me in your work, and even in your brand description, is the relationship between body and design. When I look at your garments, I think about how they would look on different body types. As a designer, how do you interpret the connection between body and clothing?

GS: That’s probably the core of my design philosophy. Even if I don’t have a fixed concept for a collection, I always start by thinking about how a garment will look on different body types. My designs incorporate pleats, draping, and volume that adapt well to any silhouette—whether someone is very thin, curvier, or somewhere in between. I also work with a lot of elastic fabrics, ensuring a natural fit across diverse body types.

This focus on the body actually stems from my final-year project in fashion school, where everything revolved around physical form—volumes, folds, skin, even imperfections like dark circles and bones. It took me years to realize that my work continues to be shaped by that early exploration.

On a personal note, I struggled with anorexia, and looking back, I see how it influenced my perspective on clothing. At the time, I wasn’t fully aware, but now I understand why I create the way I do. I want my garments to be for everyone—not exclusive to one body type or another. It’s about celebrating the human form in all its variations.

That’s also why my designs often play with contrast—form-fitting yet deconstructed, elegant yet raw. It depends on whether I’m creating for a commercial audience or for an artistic vision. For example, an artist  in Madrid recently borrowed my prototypes and layered them in ways that transformed them into performance pieces. That process—building layers upon layers, like shedding or revealing aspects of oneself—deeply resonates with me.

I think my work will always explore that relationship between clothing, the body, and self-expression. It’s something that continues to evolve with me.

PA: The phrase sinister delicate really resonates with me, and when I look at your collections, I think about that concept. There’s a femininity to your work, but not in a fragile, breakable way—it feels like an exploration of the body and mind, something beyond words but fully expressed in the clothing.

GS: I love that you see it that way because, honestly, expressing myself through text has always been difficult for me. When I create a collection, the written part is a real challenge. The designs, in a way, learn to speak for themselves. But it’s never quite enough, you know? That’s why I appreciate when people interpret my work in their own way. What you just said—how you see my designs—feels like something I wouldn’t have been able to put into words myself.

PA: You touched on this a little earlier, but what does it mean to you when celebrities wear your designs? Have you had any particularly memorable moments?

GS: I don’t really measure success by who wears my pieces. Just because a celebrity puts it on doesn’t make the design better, and it certainly doesn’t make me better as a designer. I see it more as a question of whether the person wearing it understands my work. Do they connect with what I do? Do they express it in their own way? That’s what matters to me.

That’s why I don’t always post about celebrities wearing my pieces. Even if someone well-known wears my designs, I don’t feel the need to showcase it on my Instagram for prestige.

Over the last year or so, I’ve been even more selective. But for me, it’s never been essential. In fact, sometimes I think I’d prefer if my pieces were just photographed hanging, without a person wearing them at all. Because, ultimately, I’m creating pieces—the garment itself is what’s important to me, not necessarily who wears it.

PA: Your designs have this sculptural quality, almost like they’re representing the body even when they’re empty.
GS: Yes! It’s like the shape already suggests a body, even if there isn’t one inside. But at the same time, I often feel that something is missing when a piece isn’t hanging—it needs to be suspended to really speak to me.

PA: I’m not sure if the technique you use would technically be called draping, but I assume it falls into that category because of the folds and how the fabric is manipulated, and I’m curious—how did you first develop your approach? Do you think that comes from the way you draw your designs or the fabrics you choose?

GS: It was a process—definitely trial and error. In the beginning, I didn’t have much of a budget, and I saw it more as a hobby. I started the brand years ago, but I stepped away from it for a while before returning. When I did, I didn’t want to spend too much on expensive fabrics, so I worked with scraps and market finds.

Some fabrics I didn’t love at first, but I experimented—stretching them, manipulating them with the sewing machine, trying different techniques. I started playing with draping, braiding, and gathering, constantly pushing the material to see what else it could do. It was all about exploration.

Eventually, I found patterns in my process. I started placing everything at the side—shapes could be straight, diagonal, circular. I realised that even with cheap or ‘ugly’ fabrics, I could transform them into something special. And that’s not easy! People often say, “But working with this material is so difficult,” and I think, Well, then maybe you’re not ready. Because for me, it’s all about pushing the material beyond its original state.

PA: That definitely ties into that delicate yet sinister quality—your work has this intricate, almost fragile quality, but at the same time, you’re destroying the fabric to make something new. Your brand also places a strong emphasis on sustainability and using recycled materials. How do you balance that commitment with the constant push for innovation?

GS: That’s the challenge, isn’t it? I mostly work with fabric remnants, but when I have to produce something on a larger scale, it becomes more difficult. I get frustrated when I have to buy a lot of the same material just for production—it feels less spontaneous.

That said, my process still remains sustainable in the sense that I don’t mass-produce like fast fashion brands. My production runs are small, and I still approach each piece with that same experimental mindset. Even now, I’m constantly repurposing old materials—like, I used to skate, and I’ve been looking at old jerseys from that time, studying how they were sewn, and reworking them into new designs.

So, in a way, everything I make comes from something before—it’s about transforming what already exists into something new.