The Lives Things Live After: What VAER Reveals About Fashion, Memory, and the Art of Seeing Differently.

There persists, almost unexamined, a quiet orthodoxy within modern consumer culture: that value is born at the instant something is made, as though creation itself were a point of origin rather than merely a continuation of everything that came before it.

We celebrate invention. We reward novelty. We build entire industries around the promise of the next thing. New collections. New materials. New technologies. New desires.

Yet history tells a rather different story.

The Renaissance was built upon the rediscovery of antiquity. Marcel Duchamp transformed an ordinary urinal into one of the most influential artworks of the twentieth century by changing nothing except context. Jorge Luis Borges spent much of his literary career exploring the notion that every object contains unrealised futures waiting to be uncovered.

Even Japanese kintsugi begins with the premise that damage need not represent an ending but the beginning of another narrative altogether.

Perhaps creativity has never been solely about making something new.

Perhaps it has always been about seeing differently.

That possibility sits at the heart of VAER.

Founded by Emma and Lili, the Danish label operates within a fashion landscape often obsessed with perpetual reinvention. Yet rather than beginning with virgin materials and limitless possibilities, VAER starts with what already exists: discarded workwear, surplus textiles, production leftovers, and materials whose original purpose has expired or never fully materialised.

The result is not simply an exercise in sustainability.

It is an exploration of authorship.

Of memory.

Of permanence.

Of the strange and often overlooked lives that objects continue to lead long after we have decided their usefulness has ended.

Some things are new. Others just got better at pretending they weren’t.

Spend enough time considering VAER's work and the conversation quickly moves beyond fashion itself. What emerges instead are larger questions. Who owns a material's story? Can imperfection be a form of authenticity? Does creativity flourish through freedom or through limitation? And why has contemporary culture become so convinced that value must always arrive in the form of something new?

We sat down with founders Emma and Lili to discuss material memory, creative constraint, durability, variation, authorship, and the unexpected possibilities hidden inside things the world has already decided are finished.

Constraint is often spoken about as something to overcome. At VAER, it appears to function more like a creative catalyst. At what point does limitation become possibility?

Emma and Lili: Oftentimes, we start with the textiles we have available and let their characteristics guide the design process. First, we assess factors such as durability, texture, and suitability for different products. Sneakers, for example, require particularly robust materials, so not every textile is appropriate. We also need to consider technical factors such as seam construction, reinforcement, and logo placement.

Once we understand what the materials are capable of, we begin designing around them while simultaneously calculating quantities. This allows us to understand what can realistically be produced.

Our STARK sneaker illustrates this well. We had access to a large variety of textiles, many subtly different from one another. Rather than forcing them into a single solution, we developed multiple design approaches and grouped similar materials together. The process became as much about logistics and mathematics as aesthetics.

For us, constraint is not an obstacle. It provides a framework. The available materials open certain paths while closing others, often leading us towards ideas we would never have discovered had we started with a blank page.

How do you determine what a material is capable of becoming rather than what it was originally intended to be?

Emma and Lili: We begin by studying the material itself - whether it is woven or knitted, its durability, weight, colour, texture, and the quantities available. These characteristics reveal both opportunities and limitations.

Fundamentally, we believe almost any material can become something else. The challenge lies not within the material but within our ability to imagine new uses for it.

A great deal of this process involves experimentation. Some materials that appear perfect in theory become extremely difficult during production. Others surprise us by performing far better than expected.

Rather than asking what a material was designed to be, we ask what qualities it possesses and how those qualities might be expressed in a completely different context.

Is there a moment where the material begins directing the design rather than simply supporting it?

Emma and Lili: The material almost always leads.

We rarely source textiles to fit an existing design. Instead, we design around the materials available to us. For a brand working primarily with upcycled and surplus textiles, the opposite approach would be almost impossible.

Our upcycled fleece emerged this way. We had never planned to create a fleece jacket. However, after receiving a substantial quantity of leftover materials from our collaboration with Europcar, we began exploring what could be achieved with them. The fleece emerged naturally from that process.

Rather than imposing predetermined ideas, we listen to what the materials are telling us. Their properties, limitations, and availability actively shape the outcome.

When working with reclaimed materials, where does authorship reside? With the original maker, the material itself, or VAER as the interpreter?

Emma and Lili: We do not see ourselves as the sole authors.

Whenever possible, we acknowledge the origin of our materials and share those stories through product descriptions, social media, and personal notes included with our products.

The materials arrive carrying histories of their own. Whether they began life as workwear, restaurant textiles, or unsold fashion inventory, those histories remain important to us.

Our role is not to erase previous narratives but to extend them. We are not creating something from nothing. We are contributing another chapter.

How much of a material's history do you deliberately preserve, and how much are you willing to let disappear?

Emma and Lili: That often depends on the context and the wishes of the original owner.

Some partners prefer anonymity and ask us to remove all identifying details. Others actively want the connection to remain visible.

As for the material itself, we try to preserve as much of its character as possible. The philosophy behind upcycling is not simply to reuse materials but to retain and elevate the value already embedded within them.

The history matters.

Given that no two reclaimed materials are identical, how do you maintain coherence without eliminating variation?

Emma and Lili: We embrace variation rather than attempting to eliminate it.

Even our core products can vary slightly from one production run to another because the materials are never exactly the same. The silhouette, colour palette, and design language remain consistent, but textures and details may evolve.

For us, coherence comes from design rather than material uniformity.

The small differences remind people that these materials lived another life before arriving here. If every product looked identical, something essential would be lost.

Where do you draw the line between imperfection as character and imperfection as compromise?

Emma and Lili: The distinction is functionality.

Variations in texture, colour, or appearance often enhance the individuality of a product. Structural weaknesses are another matter entirely.

If a material cannot meet the performance requirements of the final product, we simply do not use it.

Character is welcome.

Compromise is not.

Durability seems central to your philosophy. How do you approach longevity when many materials were never designed for their current purpose?

Emma and Lili: Durability is one of the first criteria we evaluate.

We frequently reinforce reclaimed textiles with backing materials or combine them with other components to improve structure and resilience. Through construction techniques and thoughtful material combinations, we can often create products that significantly outlast their original applications.

Not every material is suitable. We reject many options because they cannot deliver the longevity we expect.

The objective is not merely to give materials a second life, but to ensure that life is a long one.

Sustainability is often framed through storytelling. How do you think about impact in practical, operational terms?

Emma and Lili: Reusing textiles is only one part of the equation.

We also consider sourcing, transportation, labour conditions, durability, and the broader systems surrounding production. Sustainability cannot be reduced to a single claim.

As a small company, our influence has limits. We are not going to transform global supply chains overnight. What we can do is make conscious decisions at every stage and continually search for better alternatives.

For us, sustainability is not a destination or a marketing narrative.

It is a series of daily decisions.

Small choices, repeated consistently, that together create something more meaningful than any single claim ever could.

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Words and questions by AW.

Answers courtesy of Emma and Lili

Photo courtesy of VAER.