

What inspired you to start the brand, and how did the name “Trielina” come about?
The brand was born out of a personal need to create accessories for myself. I had access to a stock of materials and tools inherited from my family’s old luggage business, so I began experimenting.
As for the name—years ago I worked in a hobby shop, and my colleague and I would joke around with dark humor. One day he told me, half-jokingly, to drink trichloroethylene—trielina in Italian—and that nickname stuck. The fact that trichloroethylene is a toxic solvent banned for its harmful effects, yet ended up naming my sustainable small business, still makes me laugh. I love contradictions and find irony in everything.
How does being based in Milan—one of the world’s fashion capitals—shape your brand identity and creative process?
I actually live about an hour outside of Milan, in the province of Varese. Once again, there’s a strong contrast between the calm of my hometown and the chaos of the city. I feel this constant internal conflict: Milan is the center of events and opportunities, but it’s also mentally exhausting.
I love escaping to the woods with my dog, working in silence, and then bringing that creative energy into the Milanese urban context. It’s the perfect compromise.
Upcycling and repurposing materials is at the core of your brand. Can you walk us through the process of sourcing and transforming waste leather into high-fashion pieces?
Since the brand started with the remnants of my grandfather’s closed luggage shop, I was lucky to have access to old tools and leather. As I pursued post-grad studies in fashion (after graduating in sculpture), I connected with more people and found new sources of leftover materials.
Word of mouth helped a lot—once people knew what I was doing, bits of unused leather started turning up from friends’ basements. I’m endlessly grateful for that. Now, through stores like PWC Milano, I sometimes receive vintage bags as donations. If they’re beyond repair, I use them as raw material.
I don’t limit myself to leather—anything that catches my eye or would otherwise be thrown away is fair game.
Your garments and harnesses are made to measure—why was it important for you to focus on custom tailoring rather than mass production?
Working bespoke allows me to be size-inclusive and avoid overproduction. It also builds a real connection with clients—understanding their needs, ideas, and identities. I rarely make the same piece twice unless requested.
The creative process always starts with the material at hand, rather than designing first and sourcing second.
That makes it challenging, especially from a technical standpoint. Every piece demands experimentation; the process is never the same.
Your work has a raw, almost industrial feel while still being highly refined. Where do you draw inspiration from—music, subcultures, art?
This will never be a linear answer. Musical subcultures have shaped me—metal, industrial, punk, electronic. Then anime like Nana, which gave me identity, inspiration, and tears. That led me into visual kei, with its taste for theatrical excess.
I’m also deeply curious about the world of BDSM, which I rework through a pop lens. All of these influences coexist and evolve constantly in my work.
The fashion industry is shifting toward digital and AI-driven design. As a brand rooted in craftsmanship, how do you see Trielina evolving in this landscape?
Honestly, I don’t feel inclined to adopt systems that distance us from the human, artistic process. AI feels like the antithesis of DIY, and I won’t change sides—even if it makes me seem outdated.
If you could collaborate with any artist, designer, or musician—dead or alive—who would it be and why?
Maybe it’s predictable, but dressing Lady Gaga would be iconic. She’s central to the stylistic revolution in pop—Alejandro is one of my favorite videos for its dark, intense aesthetic.
I’d also love to work with Rick Owens. I’ve admired him for years—his volumes, his materials. Collaborating with him using my accessories would be a dream.
Tell us a secret—something you’ve never shared publicly about yourself or your brand.
I thought a lot about this question. I tend to be an open book, but there was one existential crisis I’ve never spoken about publicly.
About three years ago, I adopted a fully sustainable lifestyle, including a plant-based diet. That made me question whether continuing Trielina—founded before this shift—was ethical, since I use leather. I seriously considered shutting the brand down. But I realized that the essence of Trielina isn’t about being strictly cruelty-free—it’s about reversing the traditional production cycle and giving waste materials a second life. Throwing away or burning leftover leather feels more irresponsible than repurposing it. Durability also matters. In a world of compulsive consumption, creating lasting pieces is a radical act. Leather endures like no synthetic I’ve touched so far. I hope to continue evolving and incorporating innovative, sustainable materials as they become available.







Aftermath
Credits:
Photography: Marco Giuliano / @marcogiulianoph
Styling: Anca Macavei / @ancamacavei
Fashion: Trielina / @trieli.na
Jewelry: Ask & Embla / @askemblastore
Underwear: Julia Bajanova / @julia_bajanova
Makeup&Model: Marta / @bastusco