I want to put concepts in front of people that make them laugh or

Hear the words of Thom Browne: “I want to put concepts in front of people that make them laugh or smile or even hate what I do. I’m not interested in just putting clothes in stores.” In these words burns the fire of an artist’s defiance, the refusal to reduce creation to commerce. For Browne speaks not of garments as mere coverings for the body, but of concepts, ideas, provocations set before the eyes of the world. His desire is not only to clothe, but to awaken—to stir laughter, to summon smiles, even to ignite hate. For true art does not leave men unmoved; it dares them to feel.

The ancients knew that creation must speak beyond utility. The potter shapes clay not only to hold water, but to tell of beauty. The sculptor carves stone not only for likeness, but to breathe eternity into cold marble. So too does Browne see beyond the store, beyond the commerce of his craft. He seeks to speak through fabric, to create visions that will divide, inspire, challenge. He would rather be loved or hated than ignored. For indifference is the death of art, while strong reaction—whether of joy or fury—proves that the work has struck the heart.

Consider the tale of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. When it was first performed in Paris in 1913, the audience erupted in chaos. Some shouted in rage, some laughed, some even rioted at the music and dance, which broke every tradition of harmony and grace they had known. Yet in that firestorm, a new age of music was born. Stravinsky, like Browne, refused to create only what was comfortable. He created what was necessary to stir the human spirit. Today, his work is revered as genius, but it was birthed in hate as well as in awe.

Browne’s words remind us that the role of the creator is not merely to please, but to provoke thought. A coat or a suit may cover the body, but when charged with vision, it can also cover the soul with meaning. A garment can become a statement, a challenge to the norms of beauty and gender, an anthem of rebellion or joy. Just as poets weave verses to shake kingdoms, so can the designer weave cloth to unsettle expectations. This is the power of concepts—to reach beyond utility into the realm of the eternal.

Yet there is also courage in this vision. To invite others not only to smile but also to hate one’s work is to embrace vulnerability. Many seek only applause, but the true artist stands unflinching in the face of scorn. For what is greatness if not the willingness to be misunderstood? History is filled with prophets, painters, thinkers, and builders who endured ridicule in their time, only to be honored by generations yet unborn. Browne places himself among them, choosing the perilous path of significance over the safe path of silent acceptance.

The lesson for us, then, is clear: whatever we create—whether it be art, work, or even the legacy of our lives—we must dare to go beyond the store, beyond the safe offering that pleases all but challenges none. We must seek to awaken the souls of others, even if they do not understand, even if they resist. Better to be remembered with anger or admiration than to pass unnoticed into the dust of time.

In your own life, do not fear the reactions of others. Let your words, your deeds, your creations carry concepts. Let them make some people laugh, others smile, and even others hate—for in all of this, you have touched them. You have stirred the still waters of indifference. And in the stirring, you have lived fully as a creator, a thinker, a bearer of truth.

So let this teaching endure: seek not only to fill the store, but to fill the spirit. Create not only what is safe, but what is bold. For the artist’s duty, and indeed the human duty, is not simply to exist—it is to awaken others, even if only for a moment, to the deeper meaning of life.