You don’t force a river to flow—you restore the landscape so it can find its course.

I listen to myself talk a lot about rewilding lately. Maybe too much. Probably too much actually (I see those eyes gaze at time). But I have fallen deeply in love with the concept of rewilding.

In this article I will discuss the benefit of rewilding fashion. Not too look wild or trendy or anything like that, but to massage away the tension between preservation and innovation (so to speak). This is the first of a small series of articles. I hope you will enjoy.

I have been working for some years now on crafts preservation in Indonesia. This has made me aware of an array of obstacles and humbled me to the reality that preserving traditional crafts is not simply a matter of storytelling, financial support, or boosting sales.

When examining traditional practices and materials, the ethics of using cultural heritage in contemporary design become critical. Often, these practices are intertwined with the desire to preserve and protect them from extinction, but this approach can inadvertently lead to the stagnation of the very creativity they were meant to nurture, and at times even to exploitation. In contrast, rewilding offers an alternative framework—one that embraces evolution and natural growth, while resisting the urge to freeze cultural traditions in time.

Rewilding is a concept known from ecological practices and the regeneration of fauna and flora. Rewilding nature is however not the same as restoration (!); it involves creating ideal conditions and then stepping back to let nature adapt and shape itself in free, often unexpected ways. Perhaps rewilded nature won’t resemble the landscapes we know; it may not take the form of a rainforest or a savannah. Instead, it might give rise to new ecosystems and bio-communities that sustain plants and animals in ways we cannot yet imagine. This rewilded nature may function in ways that promote the emergence of new life forms and celebrate diversity by merging different plant species. Restoration, on the other hand, is focused on reconstructing what has been lost due to decay, exploitation, climate change, pollution, or other negative influences.

Me and my tiny cat Rumble when I first started my vegetable garden in Bali not having a clue about tropical gardening. Rewilding in practice!

The concept of rewilding can be “translated” to fashion theory and practices as a process of rejuvenation rather than preservation. British ecologist George Monbiot stresses (in his very recommendable book Feral) that rewilding is the equivalent of halting progress or idealizing the past, but that it involves creating the conditions for natural systems to unfold. Rewilding hence invites us to embrace both novelty and tradition, recognizing life as an ever-flowing, dynamic force that exists in cycles ensuring stability and durability.

Whether we are discussing nature or fashion, the process of rewilding is an ode to development. It does not romanticize the past or advocate for stagnation; rather, rewilding celebrates rawness, the beauty of imperfection, and the vibrant rhythms of diverse, flourishing life.

It is therefore important to emphasize that the process of rewilding is not the same as rewinding, and in the context of cultural sustainability and sustainable fashion, the aim should never be to return to an idealized past or “preserve” cultural practices as static traditions. Instead, rewilding offers a chance for these traditions to evolve naturally. This mindset fosters innovation while maintaining the essence of traditional craft, allowing it to continue to develop as a living, breathing practice. Just as environmental rewilding works to restore ecosystems by encouraging natural processes to take their course, rewilding in fashion allows materials, techniques, and cultural elements to develop organically, free from the constraints of preservationist thinking.

Rewilding fashion requires designers to initiate the aesthetic experience but then step back, allowing garments to evolve through use. Rather than reverting to past methods, organic growth is embraced, which can lead to using materials and techniques that evolve naturally with time and minimal intervention.

The most sustainable design object is raw, changeable, and unfinished. This may seem counterintuitive, as sustainability is often linked to durability, completeness, and strength. Yet, I argue that true sustainability lies in flexibility and openness to change. Polished, rigid objects tend to lose appeal over time as wear and tear diminish their value. They peak at completion and decline from there, resistant to change and detached from human connection. Marks and stains signal decay rather than character. This, of course, is not very sustainable.

So, why not create objects that evolve, grow more intriguing, and become more beautiful through use? Why not integrate the user experience into the design process, allowing the object to reach its full expression over time? Could this approach foster a deeper connection with materials and encourage a rewilded, aesthetically nourishing relationship with fashion—one that values transformation rather than perfection?

Opening up a fashion piece naturally aligns with the process of rewilding and efforts to sustain endangered craft traditions—such as the textile weaving I research in Indonesia, where my focal areas are Bali, Nusa Penida, Lombok, and Sumba. These regions are home to intricate weaving traditions like ikat, rang rang, cepuk, songket, saudan, and endek, woven on both large looms and narrow backstrap looms in villages across the archipelago.

With time, I have come to understand that a core aspect of rewilding fashion is recognizing that traditional practices—such as weaving, dyeing, and garment-making—have never been static!

Sustainable fashion often emphasizes the preservation of endangered craft traditions, but a rewilding perspective shifts the focus toward creating the right conditions for artisans to thrive. Rather than simply restoring patterns or techniques, the practice of rewilding ensures that craftsmanship remains dynamic by supporting fair wages, access to high-quality materials, and the time needed to refine and innovate techniques. When artisans are empowered in this way, tradition does not merely survive—it evolves and thrives, allowing cultural heritage to remain a living, breathing force rather than a fixed representation of the past.

Weaver in the island of Nusa Penida

Rewilding, in this sense, nurtures a fluid relationship between tradition and modernity—one where cultural knowledge is not preserved as a relic but continuously adapts to contemporary needs and opportunities. True sustainability in craft does not just mean safeguarding techniques; it involves sustaining the artisans themselves. By fostering conditions that encourage innovation, experimentation, and long-term resilience, rewilding ensures that these traditions remain relevant, evolving organically rather than being confined to the past.

Sustaining endangered craft traditions requires a delicate balance between preservation and evolution. The core of a craft—the hands-on wisdom, intricate techniques, and tactile qualities of traditional textiles—holds immense cultural and aesthetic significance. Yet, this very strength can become an Achilles’ heel when rigid adherence to historical forms prevents adaptation. Traditional motifs, patterns, and textures carry deep symbolic meaning, often tied to specific ceremonies, social status, or life phases. While artisans are trained to replicate these with precision, cultural shifts can render original functions and aesthetics less relevant beyond their immediate communities. In many cases, labor-intensive techniques struggle to compete in a world that prioritizes efficiency over artistry, leaving artisans unable to sustain themselves financially.

This is where fashion can become a vital force in the ethical renewal and revitalization of traditional crafts. Rewilding fashion offers a way forward—one that nurtures artisanal practices while ensuring their relevance in a changing world. Just as ecosystems adapt to shifting conditions, crafts can evolve without losing their essence. The key lies in identifying the core elements that define a craft—its materials, techniques, and creative energy—and allowing these to inform contemporary expressions.

This approach fosters a dynamic relationship between past and present, keeping craftsmanship alive not as a static relic but as a living, breathing practice embedded in both culture and nature.