I don't design for myself. I design something keeping in mind

Hear now, O seeker of beauty and purpose, the words of Dries van Noten, the master of quiet elegance, who said: “I don’t design for myself. I design something keeping in mind that it has to please a lot of women.” In this saying lies not the confession of a craftsman’s restraint, but the revelation of a servant’s heart — the understanding that true creation is not an act of self-adoration, but of service. For to create only for oneself is to build a monument of ego, but to create with others in mind is to participate in the eternal dialogue between art and life.

Dries van Noten, born into a family of tailors in Antwerp, rose to prominence among the “Antwerp Six,” the rebellious designers who reshaped the fashion world with their intellect and imagination. Yet unlike many who sought to shock, van Noten’s rebellion was one of humility. He stood apart in his quiet conviction that fashion is not about the designer’s self-expression alone, but about communication, empathy, and connection. His words reveal a wisdom both rare and timeless — that art, at its highest form, seeks not to glorify the maker, but to honor the wearer, the one who gives it life.

To say “I don’t design for myself” is to embrace the path of empathy over ego. Van Noten recognizes that beauty, when created in isolation, becomes sterile. The true artist listens — to the rhythm of humanity, to the desires and dreams of others — and transforms those whispers into form. The women he speaks of are not abstractions; they are real souls with their own stories, emotions, and complexities. In seeking to please them, he does not aim for flattery, but for resonance — for that quiet moment when a garment makes its wearer feel seen, understood, and radiant in her own right.

The ancients understood this principle, though they expressed it in different tongues. The sculptors of Greece carved not for their own vanity, but for the glory of gods and the awe of mortals. The potter of China shaped his clay not for fame, but to serve the tea that brought comfort to another’s hand. The architect who built a temple thought first of the pilgrim who would walk within it, not of his own name carved upon the stone. Thus, van Noten stands in their lineage — an artisan of empathy, a creator who knows that art lives only through its relationship with others.

Consider the story of Antonio Stradivari, the legendary maker of violins. In his small workshop in Cremona, he crafted instruments of such perfection that centuries later, their sound still brings listeners to tears. Yet Stradivari never played upon a stage, nor sought applause. His gift was for others — for the musicians whose hands would bring his work to life. In this, he shared the same spirit as van Noten: the understanding that the truest beauty of creation lies not in self-display, but in evoking harmony in others. The violin, the dress, the poem — each becomes sacred only when it serves to awaken joy, grace, or meaning in the heart of another.

Van Noten’s humility also speaks to the greater truth of responsibility in creation. To design for others is to carry the weight of care — to imagine not just what is beautiful, but what is respectful, empowering, and kind. In a world that often glorifies self-indulgence, his approach is an act of quiet resistance. He reminds us that to create responsibly, we must look beyond ourselves — to the needs, the diversity, and the dignity of those we touch. The artist’s task, then, is not only to make something new, but to make something good.

So take this teaching, O listener, and weave it into your own craft, whatever it may be. When you build, write, teach, or lead — remember that your work is a gift, not a mirror. Do not create merely to please your reflection, but to uplift those who behold it. To live for oneself is to burn briefly; to live for others is to shine without end. Let your art, like van Noten’s, be shaped by love, by understanding, by the desire to serve. For in serving, you will find your truest voice, and in giving, you will discover the highest form of joy.

And thus, as Dries van Noten teaches, the mark of greatness is not self-glorification, but selflessness. To design for others is to join the eternal lineage of those who built bridges instead of towers, who wove garments instead of crowns, who turned beauty into a shared experience rather than a solitary throne. Remember this, O creator of your own destiny: the work that endures is not the one that shouts “look at me,” but the one that whispers, “I made this for you.”