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manifesto
no one invited us, but we're here to stay.
Scarlet Empyre crée des vêtements pour les femmes en mouvement : celles qui s'élèvent contre le statu quo. Que tu sois fille d'immigrés, d'ouvriers ou de "bonne famille", Scarlet Empyre raconte ton histoire, une pièce à la fois.
be ourselves, and win, unapologetically
Scarlet Empyre's mission is crystal clear: to make women, and especially racialized women, visibly successful. Emphasis on visibly.
Fashion is obsessed with the myth of the Parisian woman: she's free without being subversive, effortlessly elegant, and preferably doesn't cause drama. We see her everywhere, except in ourselves.
With Scarlet Empyre, I want to tell the stories of the women that fashion doesn't care to see. Women like us, grinding away in the margins, building ladders out of the broken bones of meritocracy to escape structural racism, sexism and poverty. Those whose very existence is political because we threaten the status quo every time we get a degree, build a business, show up and talk back.
Contrary to that mythical woman, there is nothing effortless about our lives. We have to work twice as hard for half the reward. Look twice as good for half the respect. Our freedom is subversive by essence. The "drama" is a plea for dignity. So we're done negotiating for permission — or worse, forgiveness — to just be ourselves.
Noone invited us, but we're here to stay.
Scarlet Empyre
Scarlet is a word that travelled, like us. It originally comes from the Arabic word 'Skilit' — the red dye used to dye silks in antiquity — and passed through Persian to Latin, French and ultimately English where it came to designate the red wool noble families wore to signify their power and wealth. For us, Scarlet is the color of audacity, freedom and determination not to allow our ancestors' fight for equality to be undone or forgotten.
Empire is the answer to the question “where do you really come from?” (iykyk) Imperialism is where I come from and it's our collective heritage, for better or (mostly) worse. We didn't get to chose where we come from or how we got here, but we get to chose where we go from there.
That’s why I spell “Empyre” with ‘y’, in reference to the word ‘pyre’: a funeral fire. It’s a chance to let go of everything that holds us back and start fresh. Unburdened by what should be, hungry to find out what might.
Together, SCARLET EMPYRE is the idea that we can't change the status quo by stripping ourselves bare of our heritage, our language, our culture, customs and traditions in order to fit in. On the contrary, changing the system requires us to be ourselves fully. Own it. Always. And unapologetically.
Paris • Banlieues
Inspired by Fatima Ouassak’s book “Pour une écologie pirate” (For a Pirate Ecology), Scarlet Empyre is an ôde to the Banlieusards: children of immigrants and blue collar workers everywhere.
The Banlieusards, they're all of us who grew up in the margins of western society, in social housing, in the projects. Who went to schools that were underfunded and over-policed. Who experienced racism so early in life that the saying "work twice as hard for half as much" became ingrained in us as an inescapable truth. Who know that to exist in the world, to be visible, to be successful is an assault on the status quo. And who keep going, and showing up, and speaking out, relentlessly.
The Banlieusards, they're coopted by fashion, but they're not in fashion. From sporswear to luxury brands, every one wants to borrow our aesthetics, our cultural references, our codes, our identities. But they don't want to hire us or fight with us against systemic racism. You won't find us in the designer studio, in the C-Suite or wherever else decisions are made. We are simply part of a cultural buffet fashion samples from, available for consumption but not creation.
Scarlet Empyre is a reminder that not only do we belong, we own this place. This is where we were born, where we were raised and where we count.
Soumïa Maldji
I'm a French, Algerian, Muslim woman who grew up obsessed in equal parts with fashion, social justice and being the boss instead of his secretary.
I was born and grew up in the French Banlieue, with the understanding that I was too Arab to be French and the promise that maybe, if I worked hard enough, had all the good grades, and followed all the rules, perhaps, the meritocracy-fairy would bless me with the gift of equality. And it worked, up to the point where I burnt myself out working twice as hard for barely more than the minimum wage.
Before creating Scarlet Empyre, I hunted sustainable fashion brands like it was my job. And in the process I started feeling completely invisible. As a Muslim woman, as a racialized woman, it dawned on me that while we may be on some runways, some ad campaigns, some e-commerce pictures, we're never where it matters: in the designer studio, in the C-suite and wherever else decisions are made.
At the time, I was graduating the French Institute of Fashion (IFM) while interning at Chanel, and I guess I could have tried to claw my way up the corporate ladder to make it into those spaces. But after talking to some fashion entrepreneurs and watching their brain reboot in real time when I mentioned the glaring lack of diversity and inclusion, I realized that if we want our stories to be told, and heard, we have to do it ourselves. So I rolled up my sleeves and got busy.
Before working in fashion, I used to be a humanitarian worker in Tunisia, Lebanon and Kenya. Before that, I was a Disney princess (but not the ones you're thinking of) and an inveterate fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and DIAM'S.
