Salma Rachid moves effortlessly through places, cultures, and languages. Her project, Retori, was born more as a form of personal expression than as a brand—an extension of a thought that takes shape through gesture and clothing. It’s a vision of fashion that moves between art, memory, and identity. An intimate and direct conversation that tells a contemporary and independent story.
CS: Who is Salma Rachid, beyond the brand, beyond the codes?
SR: I’m someone who has moved through many places and phases of life. Alexandria to London, Los Angeles to Milan, Turkey to Dubai, each place has been home in its own way. I’ve had to adapt, rebuild, and relearn. What’s stayed constant is my love for understanding cultures and the silent power they carry. I love being with my kids and enjoying the simplicities of each place. I love art, writing, music, and building connections with people.
CS: Do you have a geography of the soul?
SR: Yes, but it’s not tied to borders. It’s rooted in the Mediterranean, a place where history is always present, where traditions and emotions are expressed openly, where contrasts live side by side. There’s an unspoken understanding in the way people gather, speak, argue, love. It’s a place where everything is felt fully, nothing is hidden. Even in the simplest moments, there is a kind of beauty that isn’t minimal but soulful. A certain way of being that flows naturally and cannot be staged. That intensity, that honesty, has shaped the way I see and create.
3. How has art shaped the way you look at the world?
Art has always been part of my life. From how we spent our weekends as a family, to how I naturally move toward beauty without realizing it. It’s an undisputed, uninterrupted language of emotion and truth. It has always been a companion, not a discovery. It teaches presence without needing permission.
CS: How do you live the dialogue between different cultures, latitudes and languages?
SR: We live in a world where cultures are increasingly overlapping, yet we still find ourselves craving difference. I believe it’s important to adapt but never dilute. Every place teaches something new, but we must also bring something of ourselves to it. That exchange between what you absorb and what you give is where the real dialogue begins.
RETORI AS A WORK
CS: Retori feels less like a brand and more like an artwork, a narrative gesture. Was it born that way, or did it become that way over time?
SR: It was always a feeling before it became a structure. Retori was born from a belief in destiny, in the idea that everything is written and that inner peace comes from embracing that. Over time, this belief found form through art, through storytelling, through scraftsmanship. It didn’t begin with strategy. It began with a feeling.
CS: The title Chapter 1 immediately suggests a story. What are you telling—and to whom?
SR: Each chapter speaks to those who are in motion, those navigating change, searching for meaning, or simply learning to trust the unknown. It’s not a story that begins and ends, but one that accompanies. It invites wearers to explore the stories told through artists and to read between the lines of their own lives. The clothes become part of that narrative, not to define them, but to guide them.
CS: Your work seems more rooted in the gesture than in the collection. Is that true?
SR: Every collection begins with an intention. That intention sparks a dialogue between ideas, feelings, and inner questions. It’s a process that slowly shapes a narrative. From there, the collection is built not just as garments, but as pieces that hold meaning and movement. The form always comes from something felt first, but the collection gives it structure and purpose.
CS: Your first presentation took place in the space of an art gallery in Milan, inside the historic Palazzo Belgioioso. SR: Why that location? And why choose the language of contemporary art to launch a fashion project?
We wanted the audience to feel like they were stepping into a space where time bends. A gallery allows for contemplation, not consumption. Palazzo Belgioioso carried memory in its walls. And art gave us the right language to present fashion not as a spectacle, but as narrative.
MILAN, MEMORY, BODY
CS: Why did you choose Milan as your starting point?
SR: I love Milan. It has structure, elegance, and a certain discretion. It doesn’t rush to reveal itself. You have to spend time with it. It also holds a long tradition of craftsmanship and quiet luxury. What drew me in was the way beauty is treated here, not loudly, but with care and precision. That aligned with what I wanted to build.
CS: What do you seek in the body that wears Retori?
SR: We design for those who are in motion both outwardly and inwardly. The ones who are curious, reflective, and open to the world. The body we imagine is not defined by age or form, but by a spirit of exploration. It belongs to someone who carries stories and seeks new ones, who dresses not to impress but to express where they are in their journey. Retori is made to accompany that person by offering presence, purpose, and quiet strength as they move through life.
CS: Memory seems to be an evident dimension in your work. What is your relationship with the personal archive?
SR: As a team, we often return to memory as a compass. Not for nostalgia, but for emotional resonance. We search for timeless shapes, textures, and moments that once moved us, and we try to reinterpret them. The archive isn’t about the past; it’s about what continues to feel true across time.
LIVING CULTURE
CS: Who are your invisible references?
SR: That’s a hard question. They are people who shaped the world quietly, through beauty, wisdom, or grace. Paulo Coelho has been a strong reference, not just for how he writes but for how he delivers simple, powerful messages about destiny and trust. Fairuz, for me, represents what Retori stands for—carrying emotion across borders and generations with depth and dignity. Then there are women like Monica Vitti, Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy, and many others that didn’t follow trends but became it.
CS: Is there something you love that can’t be explained?
SR: So many things. The scent of jasmine at night. The energy you get when you wake up in a new city. A beautiful phrase that shifts something inside you and lingers with you. That moment when you experience something for the first time, and you don’t need to speak, just to feel. The laughter shared with people you love, when nothing else matters. Simple moments.
CS: Have you ever thought of making art in a stricter sense?
SR: Yes. I often imagine installations or writing something longer and more layered. Maybe film. Not for the sake of being in a new medium, but because some stories ask to be told in different ways. I don’t think of Retori as confined to fashion. Its spirit could easily live elsewhere and everywhere.
CS: How do you imagine the next chapter—both in art and in fashion?
SR: Each chapter begins with a message to guide you, a story to touch you, an artwork to move you, and a collection to remind you. I’m drawn to exploring deeper collaborations across disciplines, with artists, poets, musicians and all creatives who carry their own language. I want to continue building forms that stay with people emotionally, visually, and intellectually. There’s still so much to uncover.
