Studio Nicholson – the cult label quietly dressing everyone

“I’m extremely nosy and want to be involved in everything,” says Nick Wakeman, founder and creative director of Studio Nicholson, sitting in her neatly turned-out Hackney flat. “I’ve put 14 years into this at the expense of the rest of my life – so if something goes wrong, then basically my child is sick.” Wakeman, wearing a ribbed, zip-up top and trousers of her own design, is no-nonsense like her clothes, which are gutsy in their spare confidence yet nuanced in fabric, colour and fit. “A lot of fashion just feels like it’s out to shock,” she says. “I like clothing, not fashion.”

Studio Nicholson has, since it was founded in 2010, garnered an army of fans – Jessie Buckley, Emma Thompson and Cillian Murphy have all worn Wakeman’s designs, as did Cate Blanchett’s very stylish, very conflicted lead character in Tár. It was first set up as a womenswear business. “My concept was to make an accessible brand using premium fabrics,” says Wakeman. “Back then, there was Celine and Cos. There was nothing in between.” The first collection was based on her own wardrobe of shirts, jeans and men’s jackets that she’d altered to fit. “I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy. A pair of dungarees I had as a kid were everything to me.” 

Back then there was Celine and Cos – nothing in between

She launched the men’s in 2017, with Talking Heads’ David Byrne as a reference, and now sales of the two are equal. The brand is small, with 32 employees; it has two standalone stores in London and Tokyo, two further mono-brand stores in South Korea and more than 250 stockists worldwide. A recent Zara collaboration helped reach a wider audience; the brand launches sunglasses next spring with Japanese brand Eyevan and is also working with Paraboot. This month, it releases a capsule rendered in drapey tropical wool, one of Wakeman’s favourite materials (priced between £295 and £550). Everything is navy. “I love navy,” says Wakeman. “It’s cosy.”

Wakeman has, for all the tastefulness, a sparky rebel energy. While her fellow students on the BA print design course at Chelsea College of Arts were turning out polite floral designs, hers featured Tampax. She didn’t finish her degree, cutting her design teeth at Diesel in the 1990s, followed by Marks & Spencer, where she designed shirts and chinos. She worked with west London store Supra Girls, specialists in Japanese brands and streetwear, before setting up her first brand, Birdie, which she subsequently sold. Japan has been a huge influence. When we meet, she has just returned from a two-week stint in Tokyo opening her first Japanese store. 

“Without the Japanese buyers and stores supporting me for the first few years we wouldn’t be here,” she says. Her first trip to Japan in 1999 changed everything. “I went from ’90s grimy London to this supremely beige, brown and cream ordered place with loads of texture, and everywhere was quiet. It was a breath of fresh air.” 

She grew up in Hampshire – “I wanted to be an artist, really, with my love of drawing as a child.” However, an entrepreneurial spirit runs in her family. Her father ran a successful construction business while her grandparents were manufacturers who, as part of an import business, introduced the electric blanket to the UK. 

Her mother was a self-taught seamstress and made the one-year-old Wakeman a navy coat with lace trim (crocheted by her grandmother). “Mum and I always made my clothes. We would go to the cloth shop, select the fabric – which looking back was always my favourite part – and then decide what to make. It’s basically the design process.”

At Studio Nicholson – named after her formidable great-grandmother “Nanan” Nicholson, who wore shirts with slacks and vivid red lipstick – fabrics are chosen first. Wakeman then sets a palette, which could include between five to 10 navy blues, before designing begins. This season, highlights include super-pale wide jeans (from £350), zings of spearmint, a V-detail cut-out dress (£525) and a chocolate leather jacket with below-the-knee skirt suit (£1,195 and £795 respectively). One of the brand’s signatures is a super-wide-leg trouser that Wakeman adapted from a pair she saw on a man walking down a street in Tokyo. The brand’s bestsellers – said wide pant, two jean styles and the white T-shirt – make up 40 per cent of the overall business. 

At Matchesfashion.com, where the buying team considers the brand alongside fellow minimalists Lemaire, Jil Sander and Margaret Howell, sales across denim and trousers are repeatedly strong. Liane Wiggins, head of womenswear, says Studio Nicholson’s success is in its multipurpose staples. “Once customers start converting to the brand, they want to build a wider wardrobe from it.” The stylist and consultant Rose Forde echoes this. “My clients and I are impressed by the subtleties you discover when you put the clothes on,” she says. “It might be a twist here, a crop there. It’s very studied.” 

Architecture is a strong influence on Wakeman. She cites Tadao Ando’s raw concrete blocks with air holes in the middle, admiring his use of light. “These things are really inspiring to me because I think about clothing in quite an architectural way. I want that line to fall off there…” She mimes imaginary angles. “Houses and buildings are like clothing: they’re there to protect you.”

The engineer Neil Daffin of Ritchie+Daffin, an avid fan, says that the admiration is mutual. “I work with a lot of architects, and I’ve noticed many of them wear Studio Nicholson. I see similarities with architectural practices like Caruso St John, 6a, Sergison Bates. There is a pared-back elegance to their practices.” Good architects, says Daffin, are always looking for interesting materials, have a careful eye for details and want to put a twist on the conventional – which is very Studio Nicholson.

Furniture is the obvious next step for the brand, and Wakeman is keen to do it. The idea of a Studio Nicholson cupboard just makes total sense. “Doesn’t it?” she laughs. “I’d like a Studio Nicholson café, a tea cup, ashtray, sofa, luggage. Purposeful. I don’t want frippery!”