The Creative Scene Making Hong Kong Fashion’s New Favorite Place

Yet on this evening, space is anything but a limit. Across three floors, YETI OUT takes over the Herzog and de Meuron–designed modern art museum M+. For one night, the art world meets street culture; an unlikely convergence, a nod of approval, a recognition of local-born scenes. Hong Kong’s creative landscape is transforming fast, and at its forefront are a number of cross-cultural creatives summoned to headline this evening. Joining the music programming is rapper N.O.L.Y from infamous Wildstyle Records and BOYS’ CHOIR, two imprints that have garnered a cult following for bridging esoteric rap verbiage with experimental, anti-mainstream iconography. “We just do what we like, Shek Kip Mei to the world,” says the artist, whose reference to the public housing estate he calls home is highlighted across self-designed clothing and lyrics.

Like the rapper, Hong Kong creatives have pathed their own way in response to their commercial surroundings. As Asia’s dominant financial center, and in turn, the region’s main art capital, Hong Kong has a long history of commodifying creativity for a market eager to eat up new products and trends. Louis Vuitton’s Pre-Fall 2024 show led by Pharrell shined the spotlight on Hong Kong, as the Kowloon promenade was transformed into a runway overlooking the city’s skyline. Upcoming Art Basel week—followed by ComplexCon, which marks the debut of the LA street culture fair’s first-ever embankment outside of the US—will welcome collectors and punters, scrambling between after-parties and mingling with the creative class across sponsored free-flow.

These events bring the focus back to a city that’s been dormant for nearly five years following turbulent domestic protests and a Zero-COVID policy that saw its international tourism plummet.

The bounce back means that Hong Kong is again back on the treadmill, where overlapping creative industries—from retail to hospitality—add to the endless cycle of product launches, brand events, and KOL (local marketing jargon: key opinion leaders’) appearances. The machine is running fast, and there’s no capacity for mechanical parts that don’t function up to speed and performance. Its commercial appetite has also birthed a generation of multitasking creatives that are able to turn any interest into a profitable business by applying Gen Z know-how.

Standing at the intersection of art, design, and fashion is 19-year-old artist Drew Mok, better known by his social media handle Offgod, named after Virgil Abloh’s Off-White imprint and god’s boundless capabilities. “The life experiences at this age—given the tools I have access to currently—have accumulated to make up my perspective for art and design,” says Mok. He’s only a few years older than Instagram itself, and has used the app to its fullest, starting by directly messaging his favorite rappers to share his anime-inspired renditions of them. Without getting any replies, at the age of 13, the artist pivoted his strategy. “I soon asked people following my page to tag who they see in the drawings. This is a much easier way for a person or an influencer on Instagram to see your work.” Offgod was eventually tapped to create the cover art for The Kid LAROI and the late JuiceWRLD’s single, Reminds Me of You. Then Takashi Murakami shared his work, followed by a nod from Pharrell. A combination of talent, confidence, and a nothing-to-lose approach in the social media age means the distance between your work and your hero’s validation is a text away. Yet as Mok highlights, “Consistency is everything. You gotta keep your head down, with your goals written in sight.”

While the internet might be the quickest way to springboard one’s ideas into the public eye in 2024, the streets are another platform not to be overlooked. Artists continue to find innovative ways to express themselves, addressing societal issues and reflecting the city’s complex identity. Street art or graffiti has become a powerful medium for social commentary, providing a voice for artists to engage with the community. For artist Lousy, who introduces himself as “Just another Hong Kong dude from Kowloon,” closed shutters and remodified bins across the city’s side alleys are a canvas. Bright pink and green hues are used for his recognizable, stripped-back “Kiss Face” symbol, which circulates heavily on Chinese social media platforms like Little Red Book and Douyin (TikTok for mainland users) and which takes over tired concrete buildings and adds bursts of joy to worn facades. “A lot of artists want to address problems with the world, societal issues,” he says, “but I’d rather create something fun, focus on the good things you know; that’s how I want to contribute to the conversation.” Lousy’s engagement with public spaces demonstrates an artist’s ability to transform the dull and adverse into unique expression, but also a disregard of institutional approval. Paris Galerie Perrotin, Los Angeles’s Gagosian, and London’s White Cube gallery all have outposts in Hong Kong, yet as Lousy confirms, “there’s plenty of space to get up outside of the white walls.”

Street art, in all its rebellion, can be perceived from several different angles. On the one hand, it can be a sign of gentrification as wayward slogans flood the walls of newly formed cafe districts such as the working-class area of Sham Shui Po. On the other, an antidote to the glitz-and-glam billboards backed by a tourism board eagerly fighting its way back to the ranks of what was once considered “Asia’s World City.”

Proving that tired urban spaces are in fact breeding grounds for new ideas, the industrial high-rises of Kowloon and New Territories are think tanks for new, alternative sounds and music collectives. Stemming from the clandestine concrete of the now-defunct underground space XXX Gallery and live music venue Hidden Agenda is N.Y.P.D. 南洋派對, a five-piece post-punk electronic band which blends ’70s Cantonese opium-folk with techno and metal influences. “Our lyrics are about eating at local dessert spots, or visiting thrift shops,” says bassist Chau, a graphic designer who also founded indie music bar Bound.

Lead singer Jon’s lyrics about ordinary lives are a retort to the “self-made celebrity” playbook examples that spam his Instagram Explore page. “Who cares about what you’re buying or who you’re endorsed by? I’m bored,” he says. N.Y.P.D. 南洋派對’s loyal fan base consists of locals who have been forced to engage with Hong Kong’s loud reminders of capitalism: campaign billboards hanging from the side of shopping malls, flashing adverts with hollow suggestions. Without sufficient venues for the youth to let off steam, the band’s mosh pits at Clockenflap festival and a recent party at an old Chinese restaurant banquet hall reflect the angst of the city’s young people, who are all dressed up with nowhere to go.

Grassroots events organizer Kate Woon understands the city’s frustration with the lack of affordable licensed venues for creators to share their art; she combats the commercial-minded music venues with events that allow experimentation and free-spirited dancing. “We want to give space to the local community, DJs, and producers to grow their art and explore,” says Woon, who produces weekly events and has also performed at local dance club Mihn and nonprofit music space Twenty Alpha, alongside community radio station FM BELOWGROUND. “When there’s no agenda other than being curious and creating, there’s room for new creations. That’s when you feel most free and inspired,” she continues.An advocate for diversity, Woon also ensures her events fall under a “safe space” ethos. “We want to be able to have a place where people of all backgrounds, genders, and ethnicities feel comfortable to interact and be themselves. Subez agrees, “In these changing times, unifying everyone under one roof is actually really special.”Music not only connects different creative tribes but also metropolitan subcultures through the decades. With a rich history, the former British colony is a melting pot of cultures. “At our events, you can hear Thai molam funk, soul from Seoul, and rare Nepalese grooves alongside Canto disco from the golden era,” says Fergus, DJ from YETI OUT collective and promoter of party imprint South Canton Soul Train, a music event dedicated to the discovery of esoteric disco records from across Asia.

Across the patio to M+ museum, Phillips auctioneers just opened its new Asia head offices, a stone’s throw away from Hong Kong Palace Museum, which houses China’s ancient antiques. These organizations reinforce that the city’s industry is still upheld by the institutional elite. Yet, a quick glance at the 2,000 Hong Kong youths who have filled the museum’s grand entrance—some attending the panel talk led by local designers and community event organizers, while others raving to the syncopated remixes of Cantonese hard techno, will confirm any doubts that the state of the city’s creative scene is still in the strong grip of domestic youth movements.