We recently had the chance to sit down with award-winning designer Philippe Vergez, diving into a conversation that explored his sources of inspiration.
DK: Where does your inspiration come from?
Inspiration often finds me before I have to search for it. It’s not just about the spark, it’s about giving that spark space to grow, to breathe, and to spill into my quiet moments. I seek calm, like when I wander through the streets of Bayonne, feeling the cobblestones beneath my feet, as though they’ve been whispering their stories for centuries. Or when I sit in the cathedral cloister, a sacred haven where even the air seems to hum with ancient secrets. In those rare pockets of stillness, away from the noise and rush of the world, my thoughts gather. Ideas, once scattered, come together like old friends, leaning in close, ready to take form.
DK: What role does the cathedral cloister play in your creative process?
The cloister is where I find true calm. When I step into that space, the world quiets. There’s no need to read lips, no external noise pressing in, just stillness. In that silence, inspiration flows freely. It’s a dance of history and modernity, a kind of poetry suspended in the air. From that quiet, my designs emerge, shaped by serenity, rooted in the echoes of the past.
DK: As someone who is hearing impaired, how does that affect your inspiration?
Living with hearing impairment, I’ve always found music to be my solace. While silence can sometimes feel overwhelming, music, especially the rhythm of rock ’n’ roll, breaks through. I don’t just hear it; I feel it in my bones. The beat thunders through me, stirring something primal and alive. It’s not just sound; it’s a lifeline. Rock’s defiant energy speaks to me in a way words can’t, a roar that says, I’m here, I’m alive, I’m unstoppable. That raw vitality inspires my work and reminds me that life itself is a rhythm.
DK: How do you cope with the challenges of your hearing impairment?
It’s not always easy. Hearing impairment is an invisible disability, and people don’t often realize the effort it takes to keep up. Reading lips, trying to follow conversations, it’s exhausting. That’s why I’ve come to value solitude. I’ve found peace in being alone. In those moments, the world speaks in ways that don’t rely on sound. For example, the vibration of my bike engine, it’s its own kind of language. When I ride, the engine’s roar feels like freedom. It reminds me that even in silence, there’s motion, energy, and life.
DK: What part does love play in your creative process?
Love is more than emotion; it’s a force that fuels my creativity. It connects me to something deeper, even in moments of silence and solitude. Love gives my designs a soul, a purpose beyond aesthetics. It’s a reminder of what truly matters, and that’s reflected in every piece I create.
DK: So, what ultimately drives your designs?
It’s a blend of everything: the timeless streets of Bayonne, the calm of the cathedral cloister, the freedom of travel, the roar of my bike, the pulse of music, and the quiet strength of love. Each element is a puzzle piece that shapes my work. I’m inspired by what I feel rather than what I hear. My designs are born from connection, to history, to stillness, to rebellion, and to love. Together, these elements create something that speaks even in silence.
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