This is an edition of the newsletter Pulling Weeds With Chris Black, in which the columnist weighs in on hot topics in culture. Sign up here to get it in your inbox every Thursday.
It will go down in history as one of my more twisted travel days: This past Sunday afternoon, I left Eau Claire, Wisconsin, by car for a short drive to Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport, where I caught a Delta flight to Paris. A surprisingly lovely two-hour layover in the Air France lounge brought me to my final leg; I landed in my favorite Italian city, Milan, around midday on Monday. This week is the 63rd edition of Salone del Mobile, a weeklong celebration of the furnishings and design industry. It has also become a must for the same kind of well-heeled person who might go to Fashion Week in Paris, Art Basel in Miami, or even the F1 race in Montreal. Bar Basso and La Specialita are rammed, and the streets feel much busier than usual. Brands of all kinds show up in different ways. The Row did a one-day presentation of beautifully folded and arranged blankets hanging on Julian Schnabel-designed racks, Saint Laurent is showing unseen Charlotte Perriand designs, Loro Piana recreated a 1970s-80s apartment, and Humanrace is popping up at Terroir, a high-end Milanese grocer.
On Monday night in the Isola neighborhood, I went to a dinner hosted by designer Samuel Ross to celebrate his installation, “TRANSPOSITION,” a collaboration with The Balvenie. I had been awake for almost twenty-four hours and had no idea what I was getting into. I was seated next to Samuel, whom I had never met. I was familiar with some of his work; his streetwear brand, A-COLD-WALL*, was never for me, but did quite well before Ross sold it in 2024 (and started SR_A, his new label, as soon as the non-compete expired.) The room was set with a long table that was located next to three large, but slightly different, industrial sculptures made from copper, which created and maintained a steady rain that matched well with the soundtrack—which contained no bass, because it didn’t jibe with the comforting sound of the water. The light was positioned in a way that made the rain glow.
Brands of all sorts try to gain relevancy by collaborating with someone who has sauce, eyeballs, a point of view, and most importantly, influence. This one didn’t make much sense to me on paper—it was apparently inspired by the whisky-distillation process—but after chatting with Ross for most of dinner, I realized his method was somewhat radical. He and his team approach brands with a baked concept, spending months working to ensure things are feasible and digestible with their partner. Most people won’t put pen to paper until the check has cleared, but Ross is playing a different, longer game. He knows how to speak about his ideas, but more importantly, how to execute them—how to get something over the line, which, from my view, is half the battle.
Whenever I think we have reached collaboration fatigue, I am surprised by something that works—when it’s not just two logos slapped together, when someone has a realized vision and the budget to bring it to life. Brands don’t always invest in the right people or ideas, but we still take notice when they do. Another licensing deal won’t move the needle, but something that takes time, effort, and genuine, and most importantly, interesting creativity should be rewarded, no matter if a brand is involved or not.