I never saw my skin colour as different growing up. I was aware of my difference, but never saw it as a reason I could not fit in. I grew up in the 80’s in a comfortable American suburb of Washington DC. During the week, I was a shy teenager navigating school and carving out my own space in a predominantly White American environment. On the weekends, I was immersed in my Vietnamese roots, with a countless amount of community gatherings and copious amounts of food. It was a clash of two different worlds, each one with different rules and different codes. Clothing was a tool not just for assimilation, but also rejection of the traditions of my past. My grandmother was a seamstress and pattern maker back in Vietnam; after she immigrated to the US, she would make beautifully cut clothing for us as we grew up. At school, I would walk down the hallways in a full-black look, sporting wide leg and extra-baggy raver JNCO jeans, a cotton canvas belt, a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert tee in XXL and a fitted baseball cap, worn backwards.
Like a good Asian son, I started college with a major in Computer Engineering. It quickly became obvious that path was not the right fit for me. Despite not having any formal art training, I worked to prepare my portfolio to study Fashion Design at Parsons, Istituto Marangoni and then the Royal Academy in Antwerp where I completed a Masters in Fashion Design. After my Masters degree and through some friendly connections, I started my career in the studios of Balenciaga under Creative Director, Nicolas Ghesquière, shortly after I graduated from school. I felt incredibly grateful for this opportunity, and I was absolutely committed to making the most of it. I started on the pre-collection team and worked 12–14-hour days 6-7 days a week draping, making trials and 3D design samples. I was the only Asian in the design studio at that time. My experience of being an Asian American man had been one of assimilation; fighting to be included in white circles, even if on the periphery. Balenciaga was not American. It was privileged and cultured and European. Surviving there, and succeeding under mountains of work and endless creative demands, was less about talent - everyone was talented. It was a question of being able to fit in. Twenty years ago, as in many industries, you could count the people of colour in the company on both hands. Looking back, it is clear to see that these spaces were exclusionary towards people like me; at the time I couldn’t bring myself to focus on my race as an obstacle, or use it as an excuse for any setbacks.