It’s been an emotional year for CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund finalist Ashlynn Park, who has deeply reflected on her cumulative experiences in the process of participating in the program. She’s covered a lot of ground in a short amount of time. Park’s creative journey began in her native Korea and continued in Japan where she moved to work with Yohji Yamamoto at Y-3. She then headed to New York, where she joined Raf Simons at Calvin Klein and Alexander Wang, before starting a family and her own business. It wasn’t easy: “Every journey was a restart,” noted Park. For spring she imagined her life story as taking the form of a vessel—specifically Korean buncheong and moon jars—which she carries with her and in which she stores experiences and memories that she can pull from and add to at will.

The sensual curves of these vessels provided the throughline for Park’s collection, which was based on rounded shapes. There were dolman sleeves, pants that gathered at the ankle, peplums that danced around the waist, and designs that exaggerated the hips (which themselves are repositories for emotions and stress). These last offered Park’s take on the New Look silhouette. Cotton sateen coats had ingeniously crafted pockets (a subject the designer first took up for resort 2025) in the shape of buncheong vases: these closed with drawstrings; the same fastening was used at the hem.

Moon jars, Park explained, are traditionally made in two parts and joined at the center, and it just so happens that many of the looks that came down the runway placed an emphasis on the waist or middle (perhaps none so eloquently as look 21, a bralette and ruffle skirt). The primary contrasts that Park wanted to couple were between soft and hard, i.e. draping and tailoring. This was most effective when accomplished in one total look.

In choosing to present her collection at the ICP in the rooms dedicated to Sheida Soleimani’s “Panjereh” exhibit, Park was creating a whole through two immigrant stories, hers and that of the photographer’s family. The deconstructed looks, which displayed Park’s tailoring chops and the celadon-colored floral jacquards, representing her Korean heritage made total sense within the narrative arc of the designer’s creative journey, but the fit felt slightly off because the sinuous movement of the clothes was so very compelling.

It felt like Park’s vessel must have been made to carry water because Park coaxed such flow out of her materials. In addition to liquid jerseys there were more structured knit dresses (with vase-like shapes) that moved with the ease of tides (peplums assuming the froth of sea froth). Mini cardigans, worn one arm in the other out, dripped down arms. The ebb and flow of the collection was mesmerizing. “I love elegant softness,” said Park, who made the audience mad for it too. “Yohji Yamamoto,” she said, “told us ‘clothing is my armor.’ It [communicates] ‘Don’t talk to me.’ That’s his generation, but my generation is different. We need to protect ourselves but at the same time we need to welcome people. That’s my message.” It was very well received.