Growth Is So Tired — Meet the Designer Duo Championing Slow Fashion in Toronto

After meeting while studying fashion design at Toronto Metropolitan University, designer Warren Steven Scott and sewing entrepreneur Lydia Naomi DeVries embarked on separate-yet-interconnected paths toward creative fulfillment. Both have created thriving businesses operating at a smaller, human scale — for Green Light, they explain how slow fashion is good for the soul.
By Roland Dupuy — March 2024


“I'm almost like a cobbler,” Warren Steven Scott states. “Just working locally, focusing on the art and the craft. I do seek inspiration from those kinds of makers, rather than the industrial design-to-manufacturer pipeline. I'm just so much smaller in that way,” he continues. Born and raised in British Columbia, Scott graduated from Toronto Metropolitan University’s prestigious fashion program in 2016, and since then he has established himself as one of Canada’s most intriguing young indigenous designers. But his most impressive feat, arguably, is how he managed to build, almost single-handedly, an eponymous brand that is both successful, and able to maintain its small size. “I wonder, do I want to be aspiring for that large scale, for immense growth? Right now, not really. I'm working on the projects that I want to work on,” he shares.


Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar
Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar
Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar
Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar



Scott cut his teeth post-graduation working in the atelier and flagship store of established Torontonian fashion house Comrags. But it was in 2018, when fellow indigenous designer Sage Paul launched Indigenous Fashion Week, that Scott was able to step into the spotlight for the first time with a debut capsule collection presented during the event.


“I wonder, do I want to be aspiring for that large scale, for immense growth? Right now, not really. I'm working on the projects that I want to work on.”
WARREN STEVEN SCOTT


Showing at Indigenous Fashion Week was the first stepping stone, but it was Scott’s jewelry that was the instant hit — and its popularity skyrocketed during the pandemic. “There was a very clear desire to support local indigenous and BIPOC designers. So I think people just became more aware of what I was doing,” he explains. “Funnily enough, 2020 was really a year of production and fulfillment for me,” he continues. 


The jewelry in question (mostly earrings) is inspired by nature, genealogy, and indigenous traditions and craft. For Scott, who is of Salish ancestry and is a member of the Nlaka’pamux Nation of British Columbia, memories from childhood merge with sounds, smells and textures, to trickle into sketchbooks and into physical forms. “I wanted to have a contemporary twist on traditional design, and it deals a lot with positive and negative space,” he begins. “I also was very interested in isolating the motifs of Salish design,” he continues. “So rather than creating a recognizable motif, a figure, a carving that could have been of a bear, an eagle, or a salmon, I wanted to just isolate the primary shapes.” 


Warren Steven Scott - Jewelry (LF Documentation)
Warren Steven Scott - Artwork (LF Documentation)
Warren Steven Scott - Jewelry (LF Documentation)
Warren Steven Scott - Artwork (LF Documentation)
Warren Steven Scott - Jewelry (LF Documentation)


Cut from sheets of acrylic, the earrings are just abstract enough to make the imagination wander, yet still recognizable enough to connect with Scott’s Salish roots. What’s more,, once the earring shapes had been cut, Scott’s keen artistic eye found new meaning in the excess acrylic sheets.  Rather than discard them, he created a series of artworks. “That has been something that's really invigorated my design process,” he tells. “I realized that the remnant sheets left over from the earring production were literally perfect examples of negative space, they were compatible with that same design mentality. I began to romanticize them, and started collecting them,” he adds. 


“I don't want these sheets to end up in the landfills, because of what my relationship is with my culture and this land and this territory.”
WARREN STEVEN SCOTT


There’s also a strong cultural reason why Scott is so precious with his materials, and hates the idea of throwing things away. “I don't want these sheets to end up in the landfills because of what my relationship is with my culture and this land and this territory. There has always been this recurring theme in indigenous culture of respect and utilization of resources, using as much as possible, and leaving no waste,” he explains.


The success of Scott’s jewelry led him to the creation of a full first collection of garments in 2021, much to the excitement of Vogue Style Editor (and fellow TMU alum) Christian Allaire. Comprising 9 designs, and only 100 units in total, the collection was clearly never intended for the mass market; rather, it was a textbook exercise in slow fashion, and it proved more than fulfilling enough for Scott. “My business model is something that feels a bit more intimate. It's by my hands, my craft and it gets delivered once it's ready. I have been working that way the last few years,” he shares.


Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar
Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar
Warren Steven Scott, “Cedar in Sec-he Sky” collection (2021) - Kristina Dittmar


Entitled Cedar in Sec-he sky, Scott’s first collection explored themes of community and gathering — both metaphorically and literally, through the fabric placement. Scott sought to bring back the joy of social gatherings that had been missing for so long during the pandemic, and, naturally, he tapped into his indigenous heritage to do so. “The collection features a harvest dress, which imitates Salish cedar baskets. On the west coast, cedar basket weaving is a traditional craft, my great great grandmother was a cedar basket weaver. My aunties have these cedar baskets in their homes, and my mom has three of them. This dress is my way of honoring that craft,” he shares.


“My second collection will be about double the size of my first, but it's on a similar timeline. I'm doing all the sampling and designing and pattern drafting and sewing myself,”
WARREN STEVEN SCOTT


Beyond his indigenous roots, Scott cites fashion designer Molly Goddard and Canadian indigenous artist and beader Audie Murray as main sources of inspiration — but his practice is constantly evolving. Now, Scott is working on a new garment collection, intended to be much more extensive than the last, but still realized almost entirely by him. “My second collection will be about double the size of my first, but it's on a really similar timeline. I'm doing all the sampling and designing and pattern drafting and sewing myself,” he explains.


The hands-on way of working also allows Scott to analyze and reaffirm his commitment to sustainability. “People are more interested than ever to know about your materials and your values,” he tells. And the increased scrutiny only fuels his desire to operate more responsibly — Scott’s ambition in everything he creates is to get as close to zero-waste as possible.


Finding fashion fulfillment on a small scale, experimenting with textile and handicraft, is a passion that Scott shares with fashion designer and sewing social media sensation Lydia Naomi DeVries. The two bonded while studying at TMU, their connection fueled by a mutual vision for a kinder and more sustainable way of working in fashion. “I really see her as a contemporary in the sustainability world. She works in a way that’s not often talked about,” Scott notes.


For DeVries, the admiration is mutual. “I look up to Warren. He’s so cool, he’s doing what I originally envisioned myself doing. He has his brand, and collections, and it’s so different from what I do,” she tells. DeVries built her business from the desire to share her love of textiles with an audience, and the feeling that making and mending your own clothes is a fun, and incredibly useful skill to have in a world looking desperately to reduce consumption. She launched her channel, omitting her last name, and the sewing adventure began. “My husband and I left the city during the pandemic, as a way to cut costs. I started sharing my patterns and tutorials on YouTube, and the audience started growing and it snowballed from there,” she explains. 


“I’ve never wanted to make avant-garde, I don’t want to be the next The Row. I just always wanted to make quality clothing that is fun to wear. And teaching people gives me a lot of joy.”
LYDIA NAOMI DEVRIES


Lydia Naomi, wearing her own design (lydianaomi.com) 
Lydia Naomi, wearing her own design (lydianaomi.com) 
Lydia Naomi, wearing her own design (lydianaomi.com) 



For her, fashion is first and foremost about finding joy in what you wear — extravagance and boundary-pushing design is not something she feels compelled to pursue. “I’ve never wanted to make avant-garde, I don’t want to be the next The Row. I just always wanted to make quality clothing that is fun to wear. And teaching people gives me a lot of joy,” she states. With over 115’000 subscribers on YouTube, DeVries has successfully tapped into an underserved market. And while many may have taken up sewing as a pandemic-era hobby, her channel has managed to keep its impressive subscriber figure post-lockdowns.


Scott and DeVries’ creative connection is clear — their aesthetics and reference points for womenswear are grounded in bold colors, playful fabrics, and movement. “I’m very drawn to the cottagecore romantic, feminine look. The epitome of that is my milk maid dress, which is very popular,” DeVries shares, noting that she draws inspiration from her childhood to create garments that hopefully channel a feeling of youthful innocence. 


“I believe in clothing that lasts a long time, designs that are timeless. I don’t like this throwaway culture. It really makes me anxious when I see people doing ‘Hauls’ — even with quality clothing.”
LYDIA NAOMI DEVRIES


The emotional resonance of the garment, she hopes, is only heightened when the wearer also feels the accomplishment of having made it themself. And in the end, the satisfaction goes hand in hand with reduced consumption. “I believe in clothing that lasts a long time, designs that are timeless. I don’t like this throwaway culture. It really makes me anxious when I see people doing ‘hauls’ — even with quality clothing,” she shares.






DeVries’ philosophy is one of simplicity, both aesthetically and materially. “I really encourage using natural fabrics, and even though cotton is seen as not so sustainable, it is durable and washes very well. Linen too, and I use a lot of bamboo,” she tells. In the age of overwork, DeVries’ mindset is refreshing, and offers hope for an industry plagued by burnout and a constant feeling of needing more. And the current pace of her business suits her just fine. “I like the small scale, I like that I can take care of it myself,” she shares. 


For both Scott and DeVries, then, fashion has proven to be far less harmful than they may have feared. Scott’s deeply personal garments and jewelry pieces remind the wearer and the observer about the much-needed, too-often-dismissed indigenous voice in Canada. DeVries’ commitment to passing on sewing knowledge to new audiences blends tradition with innovation. Both are key players on the exciting new Canadian fashion scene — a sector that is constantly growing, hoping to disrupt Canada’s position as a top greenhouse gas emitting country, with designers and brands such as Message Factory, Wildflo Studio, and Mariclaro. By working small, Scott and DeVries are part of a big change. 

Discover more at warrenstevenscott.com and lydianaomi.com