The old elevator drops us into the dull lobby of a floor under construction. The exploded world of Tristan Réhel is encapsulated at the end of the corridor, behind the door of the studio he shares with three visual artists in a former factory in the Mile End district of Montreal. Different universes that echo each other. On the pink-painted floor lies a disembowelled textile unicorn, a work by Elisabeth Perreault, her studio roommate. On the designer’s inspiration board, pinned to the wall, the pieces of fabric sit alongside an image from the film Edward Scissorhands by Tim Burton and those from the triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights by Jérôme Bosch.

Also hanging on the wall are some key pieces from Tristan Réhel’s career, since his studies at the UQAM École supérieure de mode, from where he graduated in 2020. We recognize the voluminous dress worn by the singer-songwriter Ingrid St-Pierre on the cover of her album Ludmilla, which required 90 square meters of flamboyant orange tulle. Seduced by the world of this emerging fashion designer that she discovered on social networks, the artist called on him as well as the team from the Juste du feu creative agency to illustrate her instrumental opus which is intended to be an ode to childhood.

Tristan Réhel’s childhood was, for its part, imbued with his taste for fashion. “I don’t come from an artistic family at all, but my parents always let me express myself. When I was 3, my favorite movie was Priscilla, Mad in the Desert, a drag queen movie, he recalls. I had Bratz dolls and I made dresses for them out of foil. »

After a bitter-tasting graduation in the middle of a pandemic, Tristan Réhel’s career took off soaringly. Worn among others by Annie Villeneuve on En direct de l’univers, Valérie Chevalier on Star Académie and Julie Snyder on La Semaine des 4 Julie, her extravagant creations were noticed on television sets.

“I think there is a bit of chance, being in the right place at the right time, but also really a lot, a lot, a lot of work,” says the man whose calm tone, in the interview, contrasts with the exuberance of his creations.

More fanciful than utilitarian, his approach to clothing borders on a work of art. He defines himself more as an artist than as a designer.

For him, his creations are not strictly stage costumes either. “In my practice, I see no limits. I have clothes that have been worn on stage as much as in a photoshoot. »

What about on the street? “I think especially these days, anyone can wear anything,” he says. He does not attach any genre to his creations. Faced with the enthusiasm that his “big pieces”, as he calls them, received, and driven by the desire to prove to himself that he could create “wearable” clothes, Tristan Réhel transposed his crazy and colorful style into a collection of ready-to-wear. Unveiled last summer, it was presented for the first time in September during a fashion show organized as part of Montreal Fashion Week.

Echoing his final year project, he incorporated a tearful face into dresses and sweaters. This image, which is now part of its visual identity, is a nod to the men in her family who were prone to tears. “I often saw my grandfather and my father cry a lot. It’s something a bit taboo. I wanted to talk about emotions, about fragile masculinity, without it necessarily being negative, but rather as a celebration of this fragility. »

He also revisited the ribbon dress that Annie Villeneuve wore during the tribute to Rita Baga by transposing her frivolous spirit into handbags. A demanding design job since the ribbons are sewn one by one, by hand, with horsehair.

In November, Tristan Réhel’s creations will head to the Queen City, where they will be presented at Fashion Art Toronto. Anyone targeting the international market wants to take advantage of this opportunity to increase their visibility outside of Quebec.

He will also soon resume the production of large pieces that he had put on hold to devote himself to ready-to-wear. “I would like to push myself with techniques and new materials. Even bigger pieces. I dreamed that I was creating a dress that took up all the space in the workshop, leaving little room for the body. »

“Fever dream” is the name of the aesthetic with which Tristan Réhel identifies. A state where thoughts, perceptions and feelings are altered by fever, a world where the real rubs shoulders with the unreal.