## The Fitting Room at Noon

The Fitting Room at Noon

Tomasz Kowalski stands in the first-floor atelier above rue de Turenne with his arms crossed, watching a model turn in a coat that refuses to sit. The shoulder is off by half an inch—nothing catastrophic, but enough that the sleeve twists when she lifts her arm. He steps forward, pins the seam, steps back. The coat is double-faced cashmere, tobacco on one side, cream on the other, reversible in theory but unforgiving in practice. Get the armhole wrong and the whole thing collapses.

This is how most mornings begin at ZUZWA. Kowalski, the maison's directeur artistique since 2019, spends more time in fittings than at his desk. He trained as a tailor before he trained as a designer, and it shows in the way he handles cloth—no ceremony, just adjustment.

Warsaw, Then London

Kowalski grew up in Warsaw in the nineties, the son of a seamstress who worked from a back room in Praga. He learned to sew before he learned English. At sixteen he moved to London on a tailoring apprenticeship at a Savile Row house he declines to name. The work was repetitive—basting linings, pressing seams, learning to cut a sleeve pitch that wouldn't pull. He stayed three years, long enough to understand structure, then left for Central Saint Martins.

The CSM years were less transformative than he expected. He found the conceptual work exhausting, the emphasis on spectacle misaligned with what interested him. He wanted to make coats people would wear for a decade. His graduate collection—a series of oversized trench coats in waxed cotton and raw silk—was well-received but not revolutionary. He worked briefly for Lemaire, then for a small Antwerp studio, then returned to Warsaw in 2017 with no clear plan.

ZUZWA found him, not the other way around. The brand, founded in 2015 by entrepreneur Marta Wójcik, had built a quiet following for minimal knitwear and tailored separates, but lacked a coherent design vision. Wójcik offered Kowalski the role in late 2018. He accepted on the condition that he could move production back to Poland.

The Signature

What Kowalski brought to ZUZWA wasn't a new aesthetic so much as a tighter grip on the one already there. He narrowed the colour palette—grey, navy, tobacco, cream, occasional rust—and focused the line on outerwear. The coats became the reason to pay attention.

His signature piece is the double-faced overcoat, cut long and straight with a notched collar and no closures. It hangs open or belted, reversible depending on mood, constructed from two layers of wool or cashmere bonded without visible stitching. The technique is borrowed from Italian tailoring but executed with a cleaner line. The coat weighs less than it looks like it should. It moves.

He also introduced the blouson—a cropped, boxy jacket in waxed cotton or brushed wool, inspired by the workwear his mother used to mend. It's become a signature for the maison, worn by stylists and architects in equal measure. The cut is simple, the details minimal: two pockets, a ribbed hem, a high collar that folds down. It does not try to be anything other than what it is.

The tailoring at ZUZWA is softer than traditional menswear, but not unstructured. Kowalski uses canvas and horsehair in the chest, but skips the padding. The shoulder sits naturally, the lapel rolls without stiffness. He favours a single-button closure and a longer jacket skirt, which reads more elegant than the cropped Italian cut but avoids the severity of British tailoring.

The Virage

The turning point came in 2021, when ZUZWA showed at Paris Fashion Week for the first time. The collection was small—eighteen looks, all outerwear—but it landed. Buyers from Dover Street Market and Ssense placed orders. The press noted the restraint, the focus, the absence of gimmicks. Kowalski did not take a bow.

What followed was not explosive growth but steady expansion. ZUZWA opened a standalone store in Warsaw, then another in Copenhagen. Production remained in Poland, split between a small factory outside Łódź and the atelier in Paris. Kowalski hired a head cutter, a pattern maker, and two assistants. He still fits every sample himself.

The collections have evolved incrementally. He introduced knitwear—chunky rollnecks in merino and cashmere, ribbed cardigans with horn buttons—and a small range of trousers. The tailoring remains the core, but the line now offers a full wardrobe. The price point is high but not absurd: a double-faced coat runs around €1,800, a blouson closer to €900. These are not investment pieces in the aspirational sense. They are simply well-made clothes that cost what they cost.

The Studio Now

The atelier on rue de Turenne is small—three cutting tables, two sewing machines, a rail of samples. Kowalski works here three days a week, the rest of the time in Warsaw. He does not sketch. He drapes directly on the stand, adjusting as he goes, working through problems with cloth and pins rather than drawings.

He is not interested in narrative. When asked about inspiration, he cites practicality: the need for a coat that works in rain, the challenge of a reversible construction, the problem of a collar that sits flat. He does not talk about heritage or identity or the Polish design renaissance. He talks about armholes.

The next chapter for ZUZWA is, predictably, incremental. Kowalski is working on a lighter-weight coat for spring, experimenting with linen-cotton blends that hold shape without stiffness. There are plans for a small accessories line—scarves, gloves, perhaps bags—but nothing confirmed. He is wary of expanding too quickly, of losing control over quality.

In the atelier, the model turns again in the tobacco coat. The sleeve falls cleanly now. Kowalski nods, unpins the seam, hands the coat to his assistant. The fitting is over. He moves to the next piece.