Sticking with the theme of her collection—the title was “Here We Are, Now”—the designer enccouraged her audience to focus entirely on the present moment by experiencing the garments IRL, urging viewers to place their phones into their bags throughout the duration of the show.
It was a bold move, especially when so many people only attend fashion shows for the photos they can post on Instagram—but it worked.
Peep some of our favorite looks, below.
Simon Rasmussen: Kyle, nice to meet you. How’s it going?
Kyle Lindgren: Hey, man. Good, good.
James always got Google Meet issues. But I’ll text him—he’s usually a couple minutes late.
Simon Rasmussen: How did you and James first meet?
Kyle Lindgren: Through mutual friends—classic L.A. story. My friend was close with his girlfriend, now fiancée, and we just kept crossing paths at art galleries and film events. During COVID, we ended up connecting more. I think he was writing a script loosely inspired by The Bachelor.
Simon Rasmussen: That’s a solid show.
Kyle Lindgren: Right? I mean, it started as research, but we all got hooked. Every week, friends would come over to watch The Bachelor at James' place. Actually, now that I think about it, this is kind of the origin story of PALY. I’d just come back from my day job at the Fucking Awesome, and James would be sitting there doodling in his notebook while we watched.
One night, I asked to see some of his sketches, and from there, I started experimenting. I’d wake up at 5 a.m. every day before work, watch YouTube tutorials on Photoshop, and just crank out designs. I wasn’t good at graphic design then—most of the stuff I made was terrible, looking back. But a couple of those pieces actually saw the light of day. I’d mock up t-shirts using James’s sketches and try different techniques I learned online. Eventually, we made about 30 designs, printed them all, and brought them to our Bachelor group. Everyone voted on which ones we should produce, and that became our first unofficial collection.
Simon Rasmussen: So this all started in 2020?
Kyle Lindgren: More like 2021. By that time, James had built up a pretty solid archive of sketches. During the pandemic, he started this ritual of sketching in a notebook every day. His assistant would scan everything, so when we began seriously creating designs—initially just for our friends—there were already 1,000 or 2,000 drawings to work with.
Now we’ve got over 8,000. He goes through a notebook every couple of weeks. It’s crazy.
(At this point, James Franco joins the conversation...)
James Franco: Hey, sorry I’m late. What’s up? I’m out of it. I’m only in LA for five days, so I just… yeah, I just got back. Sorry about that.
What were you guys talking about?
Kyle Lindgren: We were just talking about how you’d sketch during Bachelor nights and how that turned into our first designs.
James Franco: Oh, yeah. That’s funny to think about. It really started so casually during COVID. Well keep going.
Simon Rasmussen: So it really began during those watch parties?
Kyle Lindgren: Yeah, in the most random way. It wasn’t some planned thing; it just came together naturally.
Kyle Lindgren: I had forgotten that it all circled back to The Bachelor—when we used to sit and watch it every week. I think I was talking about how when we started mocking things up, we had maybe a couple thousand drawings. The last time I counted we had about 7,000. That was a year ago, and now we’re probably at 14,000. It’s been super helpful for designs.
James Franco: Yeah, I don’t know what Kyle’s told you, but we’ve known each other for years now. I’d gone to art school a long time ago, but I hadn’t been drawing or painting for years. During the pandemic, I read How to Be an Artist by Jerry Saltz. It’s a simple book, but really smart, with practical ideas about creativity. One suggestion was to draw every day. With acting on hold, I thought, Okay, I’ll create a schedule for myself, even if there are no art shows or concrete goals in sight.
I started sketching while we’d watch The Bachelor—initially as research for a script I was writing about LA TV.
Simon Rasmussen: So it started as research?
James Franco: Yeah, and then it became an addiction. My girlfriend’s the real reality TV addict now—she’s deep into The Real Housewives. I couldn’t hang with that; it’s like Dostoevsky-length reality TV. But The Bachelor didn’t require much focus, so I’d sketch while we all watched. Then Kyle asked me to draw on some denim. I did a couple of jackets, and our friends thought they were cool and started bringing their own jackets for me to customize.
Kyle saw potential in the drawings and started mocking up t-shirts. He scanned the sketches and printed them onto shirts. We ended up with a bunch of samples, laid them out in the kitchen, and had our friends vote on which ones were best. That became our first collection: eight t-shirts and a few hoodies and crewnecks.
Simon Rasmussen: When did this happen?
Kyle Lindgren: We showed the collection for Spring/Summer ’24, so by June 2023, we were in Paris.
James Franco: Before that, we didn’t have any store connections. Kyle lived near H. Lorenzo in LA, so we walked in with our stuff. It was like a scene from a movie. Lorenzo and his son, Mack, were there. Lorenzo was like, Okay, show me what you’ve got. Put it on the racks. They went through every piece, deciding which ones to take. It was all consignment, but they sold everything.
After that, we went to Paris for Men’s Week. We rented a hotel room and emailed stores, introducing ourselves as Kyle and James Franco. Honestly, I think some people thought it was a scam.
Kyle Lindgren: We didn’t want to market it as a “celebrity brand,” but that was probably the one time we used James’ name—just to get people to come look.
James Franco: Hey, Kyle, go back to the origin spot. What was in your brain when we started, I can't even remember?
Kyle Lindgren: Honestly, I think I just had this tunnel vision about apparel. Back then, everything I saw—sketches, objects, even random stuff like a leaf on the street—felt like it could be applied to fashion. It’s a bit corny, but I was constantly thinking, How can this become a shirt, or inspire a collection? Like so dumb.
It was really just like a daily practice. James was doing his daily drawings. I was doing my little daily mockups every morning before work. We never really forced anything. It also didn't come easy, like having a celebrity attached. Because that wasn’t the front-facing thing, we didn’t really take many shortcuts. It almost made it harder because we had this thing we were trying to conceal. We didn’t want it to damage the brand and wanted the design to stand on its own.
James Franco: At MRKT during Basel, people came in loving PALY without knowing I was involved. I was even drawing on denim at the party, and some kids didn’t realize it was me until later. It’s kind of fun being in the background like that.
Simon Rasmussen: So, why do you choose to tell the story now?
James Franco: There’s part of me that really liked the idea of it being kind of a hidden thing. Because, as opposed to acting, where I can’t escape it—it’s just like, boom, there I am; it’s my face that’s in the work—this was different. There was something appealing about a kind of Elena Ferrante or Banksy thing.
But I think we just figured: a) it wasn’t going to remain hidden forever. I was already meeting with all the stores, doing events. I wasn’t going to keep showing up to things in secret. And b) we realized the selling point wasn’t me. People liked the product. So, it wasn’t about leveraging celebrity; the design stood on its own.
Simon Rasmussen: Was Hollywood always part of the vision?
Kyle Lindgren: Yeah, it’s central to James’s art. His work reflects Hollywood history and its darker underbelly, so it became the natural throughline for the brand. When I placed his drawings into the context of the designs, Hollywood’s mystique tied everything together.
Simon Rasmussen: Is there a message to Hollywood in the brand?
James Franco: I wouldn’t call it a direct message or critique. It’s not like one of those tourist t-shirts that says, “This place sucks.” It’s more about transformation. There’s an underground filmmaker, Kenneth Anger, who really influenced me. He wrote Hollywood Babylon, a book full of overblown gossip and tragedy that turned Hollywood’s mystique into something almost mythical, like a quasi-religion. He collaborated with people like Mick Jagger but also explored Hollywood’s darker, mystical side.
Anger’s work was about taking the glamour and icons of Hollywood and making them reference something bigger—both its light and dark sides. That’s what I see PALY doing, too: not critiquing Hollywood but diving into it and amplifying its mystery and power. It’s about letting Hollywood represent something universal, something that fascinates us about humanity.
A lot of artists I admire, like Paul McCarthy, Harmony Korine, and Douglas Gordon, used Hollywood as material to create something new. For me, it’s similar—I grew up in Hollywood, but through art and now fashion, I can step outside of it. I’m in a unique position where I can use Hollywood as a lens, not just to critique it but to reimagine it and turn it into something fresh.
Simon Rasmussen: It's a very interesting place, you guys position yourselves. Luxury brands are increasingly positioning themselves as entertainment channels, aiming to compete with top Hollywood productions. Brands like Louis Vuitton and Saint Laurent are focused on creating films, taking on the role of filmmakers to rival major directors.
James Franco: Yeah, I noticed that trend at Cannes this year. Saint Laurent Productions had like four films there.
Simon Rasmussen: It’s fascinating how brands are trying to imitate Hollywood. It's very interesting. You're onto something.
James Franco: Exactly. I was just watching Queer by Luca Guadagnino last night, and Loewe's designer did all the costume design.
Enzo Holdt: The collection you just launched at Art Basel features reimagined posters of films like Paris, Texas, Blue Velvet, and Drugstore Cowboy. These movies explore themes of alienation, so I wanted to ask, James, why did you choose these specific films/posters to work on?
James Franco: There are a few reasons. On a practical level, Kyle sources these vintage posters, so part of it depends on what he finds. But when I saw these oversized, beautiful pieces, I initially hesitated—like, should I even draw on them? Then I thought, well, that's kind of what I do. When I was in Italy recently promoting a film, I spent a lot of time signing posters, so in a way, this felt like an extension of that—adding to the poster, not destroying it.
As for the films themselves, Kyle and I often develop themes for each collection, whether it's an old legend, a tragedy, or a myth. For example, in Miami, there’s a nod to Dorothy Stratton’s tragic story, which inspired Star 80. With Paris, Texas and Drugstore Cowboy, I have a personal connection, having worked with Wim Wenders and Gus Van Sant. And Blue Velvet, for me, is iconic—David Lynch at his best. It’s the movie where he fully became Lynch, balancing a polished surface and then underneath is the subconscious and the darkness. And in a way, I think that's our company, those multiple levels. So that movie, just like Kenneth Anger, is super special to me and Kyle.
And beyond that, these films share a certain kind of Americana, capturing a raw, rugged underbelly of America that resonates deeply with what we’re building.
Enzo Holdt: Kyle, when I look at PALY’s designs, I see a strong punk influence, which might come from your time at Fucking Awesome. But the combination of that with Hollywood—something far more glamorous and alluring—feels contrasting yet creates something really beautiful. Could you talk about that?
Kyle Lindgren: Definitely. My time at Fucking Awesome taught me a lot, particularly about working with an artist’s vision and translating it into three-dimensional forms.
Enzo Holdt: You’re referring to Jason Dill?
Kyle Lindgren: Yes, Jason. We’d dig through his archive of artwork and find creative ways to bring it to life. That experience taught me how to add depth to a collection, not just through storytelling—like what James brings—but also through the techniques we use.
With PALY, there’s a real emphasis on storytelling. James drives that narrative side, but we also make sure the garments physically tell a story. Techniques like crystals, embroidery, washes, and distressing aren’t just decorative—they give each piece a sense of history, as if the wear and details reflect where the garment has been.
Ultimately, we merge these elements into a cohesive whole, where the designs carry both visual and emotional depth.
Enzo Holdt: It sounds like PALY’s storytelling and approach are very tactile. Would you describe it as an analog brand in a digital world?
Kyle Lindgren: That’s a deep question. For me, I’m so involved in the day-to-day that it’s hard to step back and see the brand from a broader perspective. James is much better at looking at the whole picture, whereas I’m more focused on the physical product—the fabrication, techniques, washes, all of that.
In that sense, the brand feels analog to me. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, but I naturally think product-first, rather than prioritizing social media or digital campaigns. That’s what creates a nice balance between James and me. His background is rooted in media and storytelling, whereas I’m more hands-on and product-oriented. Together, it creates a dynamic mix.
James Franco: I love that, and I’ll just add something quickly. About ten years ago, I did a project with MOCA in L.A. based on Rebel Without a Cause. The project, Rebel, involved different artists reinterpreting parts of the film or its behind-the-scenes stories to create new work.
That’s what I appreciate about PALY. It’s not about critiquing Hollywood; it’s about re-engaging with it and giving it new life. I love how old movies still resonate—fan clubs, special screenings, places like the New Beverly—and how they continue to bring people together.
Through PALY, we’re doing something similar. We’re not remaking Drugstore Cowboy, but we’re reanimating its essence. These stories and legends get a new form through the clothes—new iconography, new imagery. It’s like the narrative is reborn, letting people connect with those stories in a fresh way. You’re not just watching the movie; you’re experiencing it again, but differently, through what you wear.
Enzo Holdt: You have mentioned Kenneth Anger a few times, what is your favorite project of his? I just watched Lucifer Rising for the first time, and it felt a bit occult, but I thought it was pretty good.
James Franco: Lucifer Rising definitely has a dark backstory.
Enzo Holdt: Yeah, I read about the music and the composer was connected to the Manson family, right?
James Franco: Exactly. Beausoleil was the first member of the Manson family to be arrested. He wasn’t involved in the Sharon Tate murders but was tied to an earlier one. There’s a whole history there—he and Kenneth Anger had a falling out, and supposedly, Beausoleil stole some of the film reels for Lucifer Rising and buried them in the desert.
Enzo Holdt: That’s wild.
James Franco: For me, Scorpio Rising is still my favorite Kenneth Anger project. I first saw it in film school, and it completely blew me away. What stood out was the way he used pop hits of the time as a soundtrack, set against contrasting and provocative visuals.
What really struck me, though, was how Anger, as a queer artist, captured a real biker gang and transformed their image. Instead of coming across as purely tough and hyper-masculine, they take on this sensual, almost queer quality through his lens. That idea of transforming your subject through how you shoot it really resonated with me. It influenced my early short films at NYU and is still something I think about in my work today.
Enzo Holdt: What has been the most rewarding part of building PALY together?
James Franco: For me, the most rewarding part has been the collaboration. I’ve always loved working with others—it’s something I learned from being an actor and making films, where every project involves so many people coming together. Working with Kyle has felt really natural, and it’s been this beautiful, symbiotic process.
I tend to want to do too much—I overload scripts, shoot too many scenes, and put in more than necessary. When I direct movies, editors and producers help me refine things, and Kyle plays a similar role for PALY. He’s like an editor, filtering my tendency to go overboard and helping shape all these ideas into something cohesive and better.
As an artist, having a collaborator or editor you trust is invaluable. It’s what I’ve always envied about teams like the Coen Brothers—someone to bounce ideas off of and build something together. That’s what we’ve created here, and it’s incredibly rewarding.
Kyle Lindgren: I’d have to echo that—it’s the collaboration. Being able to bounce ideas back and forth until they evolve into something unexpected is such a special process. Often, it’s a struggle to get there, but when you trust your partner, even if it’s just starting on a two-dimensional screen, you create something far better than you could have on your own. For me, that’s the most rewarding part of this whole journey.
Paige Silveria: Tell me about yourself. You make books.
Dino Simonett: My books are my art. Each book might be a painting or sculpture. And you should not do the same sculpture all the time. When you hike somewhere, you never should go the same way back home — this is something my mother taught me when I was young. In the same way, it's boring to make the same stuff all the time. So I try to find a way to invent my own language.
PS: This book you’ve made is really beautiful.
DS: It’s hyperrealistic larger-than-life images of boxes and flacons in an endless row presented on paper the thickness of a children’s book.
PS: I loved how it said in the press release that you woke up one Sunday morning and the idea for the book suddenly came to you.
DS: The backstory is that Remo Hallauer [COO of COMME des GARÇONS International] is a true book lover. We met at the Offprint book fair in Paris. And one day, shortly after peak COVID, this email came from him asking if I’d think about a possible collaboration with one of the young stars here — and no hard feelings, but it didn’t work out. So then, as it is in life, which is the essential thing, you have to have an idea. And most of the time, they’re not good enough. You have to have another and another and then you go, Ah ha! Perfume.
PS: And you’d already been pretty familiar with their fragrances?
DS: I’ve known this stuff since the beginning. I wore the first perfume they created. It was part of my life all the time, and I thought, It's so funny. There’s a connection with how I make the books: like two, three books a year, all collaborations and each is different. Just like their perfumes. So I immediately texted Remo.
PS: And what perfect timing, with the 30-year anniversary.
DS: Yes, but this was two years ago or so. I hadn’t had the jubilee in mind. It might not look like much, but there was a lot of work to do.
PS: Many of the advertisements and images weren’t archived, physically or digitally, right? You had to search all over for a good portion of the material?
DS: Well we also had to wait for the official deal to go through in the beginning. Adrian Joffe [President of COMME des GARÇONS International and Dover Street Market International] wanted to do it but he didn’t have the mind space at the time; they were about to open the Dover Street Market here in Paris. So we were on our own for a bit, developing the project from zero. We looked all over the Internet and tried to create the chronology. I had a young guy helping me. He kept reminding me to be patient and to continue to work on growing the book. The door was open, but we had to wait in front of the next room. So we took little steps to prepare ourselves. And stuff slowly worked out.
PS: And thank God for the Internet.
DS: Yes, because as you mentioned, there was no archive. We thought surely they’d have something in the basement. But no, that didn’t exist. At one point they sent us a list of all the perfumes so we had a clear checklist to manage. I had to become an expert.
PS: There are so many, over 100?
DS: Yeah, and at one point the CDG team was activated. It was like a machine and in the spring suddenly a load of stuff was coming. First we had to grow the grapes, then make the wine and then the grappa. And at the end, it's a really strong grappa. And so things came together, and then one day Adrian said, “All is fine, but Rei [Kawakubo] must now also approve it. This is how the system works.” But nobody had told me! So Remo met with Rei to show her the book.
PS: That’s a bit of pressure!
DS: She could have said no and we’d have to throw everything in the garbage, two years of work. There was indeed a little bit of pressure. But it was fine. She liked the book. Then at the end of this summer we met again and they asked if they could have some of the finished copies on 20 November in Tokyo. I said, “I’m sorry, what?” He was thinking that the book was finished, you know? I told him we still needed a lot of material to finish it. Sometimes it's nice though to have this pressure. It's motivating and thrilling when you finally accomplish it all.
PS: Let’s go back. How did your upbringing inform who you are?
DS: It has to do with nonconformal thinking. Most people think the same. And we’re constantly pressured as well, by everything around us to conform. You have to really fight to keep your head and so I had this upbringing with this rather eccentric mother who was absolutely nonconformistic in every way. She was resolute. Why should we follow the path of the masses? It was never my thing. Voilà.
PS: How were you in school?
DS: I was not so good at school. I was only skateboarding at that time. I was on the Swiss National Team. I even was here in Paris at a European championship when I was 15 at the Trocadero. And my mother said, “You are not going to school anymore. You need an apprenticeship. It makes no sense to send you to school any longer.” I was independent and had my first salary at 16.
PS: What were you doing?
DS: I was a carpenter making tables, chairs, all that stuff. All my friends went to high school with like 16-week holidays, while I had only four. And so it was really, really tough shit for a 16 year old. But I learned two important things. The first one was discipline; seven o'clock each day it started and lasted nine hours. And the second thing was precision; you have to do things right. People always said to me that the apprenticeship was good as I’d really use it for the rest of my life. And I always thought that was such bullshit. But actually, it's kind of true. And so anyways, the moment I finished my apprenticeship, the very last day of the last test, I went on the Interrail for one month and never went back to a carpenter shop.
PS: What’d you do after?
DS: I wrote a letter to this very super famous music guy, Claude Nobs who was organizing the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland, telling him I’d like to work there that summer. I mentioned that I’d just finished my apprenticeship for carpentry. He phoned me back immediately after getting the letter. He said, “Oh you’re a carpenter? You can come right now.” He was renovating his apartment in Montreux. So I stayed and worked there alone while he was up at his chalet. I felt like Kevin McCallister from Home Alone in this completely furnished apartment. And then the festival started, and there was this guy from New York doing a large mural painting. It was Keith Haring. I had no idea who he was. We became friends. Then I met George Benson and Herbie Hancock. It started from nothing and then one thing comes, another thing comes, another thing comes. This is how I started, which is maybe not the natural way. But I was following my intuition and taking chances and putting myself out there.
PS: And you're going after what you have a passion for.
DS: I think that’s the best way to live one's life. It was like my own private art school. I met all the guys I was totally hot about. I met Joseph Beuys and told him I wanted to do an art project with him. I got his number and he told me to ask for his assistant. But I took everything for granted, what people said to me. So I had this phone number in Berlin. And I called the guy 20 times until this fucking meeting with Beuys finally happened. And we met and made a small collaboration art magazine called “Quer.” You just have to stick to the stuff.
PS: Wow. You don't still have one of those copies around, do you?
DS: I had one and I brought it to Remo at one of our meetings. Adrian saw it and immediately took it … I hope he gave it back to Remo. Adrian has a pile of my stuff that he wanted to see, so that’s good.
PS: Yeah, of any coffee table in the world for it to be displayed, his is probably in the top 10.
DS: So then I decided my dream was to be a film director. There was a film school in Berlin that I applied to. They only took about 18 people from 600. We waited all week to see this list on the wall for the final call back meeting. And my name wasn’t there. I was like, “Shit!” And then a week later, I received a letter saying I’d been accepted. Later the director told me it was clear enough with my application and the art magazine I’d sent that I’d be accepted. I don’t say this to brag. I say this to tell you that every young person that wants to go somewhere, all they have to do is fight. You have to get out of your house and your small town and your comfort zone and all that shit.
PS: I agree. So you’ve made films?
DS: I made a feature movie and went to the film festival. It was really amazing and everything, but I was not Tarantino, you know? So it’s the last semester and Tilda Swinton is supposed to teach a seminar. I really wanted to attend it. It would be the cherry on top of the cake. Then she postponed it once, then twice. The third time, I’m on the tube and there’s a woman in front of me with a newspaper that says that Tilda’s super mentor, Derek Jarman, had passed away. It’s the very Monday morning that her seminar is set to begin. And I thought, Oh shit. She’s not going to be there. But then she was there after all and it was a fantastic week. There were only five of us students and we all fell in love with her. And she fell in love with us. I’ve known her since.
PS: I can only imagine. How’d you make the transition into books?
DS: You have to find out what you're really good at. I had long discussions with this guru, an old guy who was a very diligent, very bright guy. I was really miserable, feeling directionless. He asked me why I wasn’t continuing with filmmaking. And I couldn't give him an answer. Then he said right into my face, “Probably it’s because you’re not good enough.” The message was one-hundred percent received. It was a relief; I'm not a bad person. This guy told me the truth, and I could accept it. And when you can do this, you can figure out what you actually want to do, what you’re actually good at. I started making books. I made one with another film director. And we visited Tilda at her hotel, bringing one to her as a present. As we’re knocking, I thought to myself, If I did another book focused on people in this business, it’d have to be her. And she opens the door, looks at the book and says, “Oh, I would like to have a book like this on me.”
PS: These situations seem unreal.
DS: I spent five years on her book, which was an enormous success. It included stills from all her films and launched it in different cities. Fantastic shit.
PS: And now you’ve just released this soon-to-be iconic CDG book.
DS: I've learned to be patient; things can take you years. This book with Adrian and Remo took two years and I didn’t even know if it was going to be approved! Follow your dreams as much as you can. It's not so important which dream it is exactly. If I see a step in front of me, I try to take each chance I get. This is what I wish for everybody, in whatever situation you find yourself, start to do something with nothing. This book started with just a simple idea. You can not find anything like this on the Internet, this compilation, this narrative. It’s something we had to bring together with enormous work. And here we are. I think in our digital, splattered times sometimes you have to make something which is real. That you can sit with and focus on in silence and really take time alone with it.
