Author, entrepreneur, visionary, and creative force—Prabal Gurung has long cemented his place as one of fashion’s most iconic names. Since launching his eponymous label in 2009—and later introducing Atelier Prabal at the 2018 Met Gala—he has dressed some of the world’s most influential women, including Oprah Winfrey, Michelle Obama, and Kamala Harris. Now, at a pivotal point in his career, the celebrated designer is telling his story on his own terms, with the release of his memoir earlier this May. “I felt the world was ready to hear it,” he shares.
Titled Walk Like a Girl, the memoir traces his early life in Nepal, his time at an all-boys’ school, and the relentless bullying he endured—particularly taunts like, “You walk like a girl.” Once a source of confusion and pain, those words have since become a source of power, lending the book its title—an idea Gurung had been carrying in his back pocket for 18 years. By reclaiming the phrase, he transforms it into a bold statement of identity and resilience. “The insult never made sense to me,” he says, “because the strongest people I know—the ones who shaped my world—have always been women.”
Indeed, women have always stood at the centre of Gurung’s life and work. Shining among them is his mother, Durga Rana, whose influence he credits with shaping both his personal values and creative vision. “She is my north star. Every collection I design, every risk I take, is in conversation with her strength—a love letter to the woman who taught me that tenderness isn’t weakness, but a quiet act of rebellion.”
Today, Gurung joins Vogue Singapore at our annual landmark event, Next In Vogue—marking his return to the city after seven years. Speaking to an audience of 700 in an exclusive live interview to Associate Deputy Editor, Maya Menon, the designer reflects not only on fashion, but on advocacy, identity, and the power of staying grounded.
Prabal, thank you so much for joining us today. What has 2025 looked like for you?
2025 has been a year of reckoning and renewal. It’s been about returning to the essence of why I create to tell stories that move people, to build beauty with purpose, and to reimagine what modern luxury can mean. Between the release of Walk Like A Girl and my Spring 2026 collection, Angels in America, I’ve been living in the tension between vulnerability and vision, where art, emotion, and activism meet. It’s been a year of remembering that success isn’t about arrival; it’s about evolution.
Let’s start with your memoir, Walk Like A Girl, which launched in May this year. It’s such a powerful and deeply personal book. Why did it feel like the right time to tell your story?
Because the world finally felt ready to listen and I was ready to speak without armor. For years, I’ve told stories through fabric and form, through the language of silhouette and color. But Walk Like A Girl demanded my real voice, unfiltered, unstitched. It’s about how we arrive in our wholeness, how we make peace with the parts of ourselves the world once told us to hide. I wanted to remind people that strength isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the decision to walk forward with it, head held high.
Much of your book references the influence of your mother, your North Star. How has your relationship with her shaped the heart of your journey?
My mother is my first and greatest muse. She taught me that dignity is not about where you come from but how you carry yourself, with grace, with courage, with compassion. Growing up in Nepal, she would remind me that beauty without empathy is hollow, and ambition without gratitude is dangerous. Her belief in me was radical; she didn’t just raise a son, she raised a believer.
“Those words became my revolution. They forced me to confront the world’s narrow definitions of masculinity and femininity, and to build a life that exists beyond them.”
The title of the book was inspired by an insult that was painfully hurled at you. You’ve reclaimed the phrase with power. Looking back, how did those moments shape your understanding of gender, identity and strength?
Walk like a girl was meant to wound me but I turned it into my armour. Those words became my revolution. They forced me to confront the world’s narrow definitions of masculinity and femininity, and to build a life that exists beyond them. I’ve learned that true strength is fluid, that the most powerful people are those who embrace their contradictions, grace and grit, softness and steel. My journey has always been about honouring the feminine divine within all of us. If you ask me what power looks like, it looks like walking through the fire, in heels, if necessary and emerging radiant.
When did you first feel that you were soaring—that your voice and vision had truly found their place in fashion?
It wasn’t one moment, but a gradual becoming. Perhaps it was when I saw women from all walks of life, from Michelle Obama to Oprah to young women and men, wearing my clothes and feeling seen. That’s when I knew I wasn’t just making garments; I was making meaning. My voice in fashion crystallised when I stopped seeking permission to belong and began designing from truth, from the messy, magnificent human experience. That’s when I started soaring.
Looking back, what have been some of the biggest triumphs and biggest challenges of your journey as a fashion designer and couturier?
The triumphs are easy to name, the shows, the awards, the red carpets. But the real triumph is surviving in an industry that wasn’t built for people like me, and doing so with integrity intact. The challenge has always been navigating visibility, being celebrated and yet constantly underestimated. But I’ve learned that endurance is an art form. My journey has been about transforming rejection into resilience, and turning silence into storytelling. Every collection is a new act of defiance, a reminder that beauty and bravery can exist in the same breath.
Inclusivity and diversity are fundamental to your work. You’ve often said that everyone’s voice matters and your collections celebrate women of all kinds of beauty. How does that philosophy shape the way you approach design?
For me, inclusivity isn’t a trend, it’s the soul of my work. When I design, I think about the woman who has never seen herself on a runway, the one who’s been told she’s too much or not enough. My clothes are a love letter to her. I believe beauty exists in plurality, in the kaleidoscope of identities, cultures, and stories. The role of a designer today isn’t just to decorate the world but to decode it, to hold up a mirror that reflects everyone. That is the future of fashion.
How would you define the unique strengths of being an Asian designer? What do you see as the innate power of Asian creatives?
Our power lies in duality, in living between worlds. Asian creatives carry centuries of heritage and the urgency of modernity within them. We understand nuance, we speak in layers, of myth, memory, and meaning. Being an Asian designer means navigating the delicate dance between reverence and reinvention. We are the bridge, between East and West, tradition and disruption. That multiplicity gives us a perspective that is deeply global and profoundly human.
What advice would you give to someone starting out in fashion now?
Know why you’re here. The world doesn’t need more clothes; it needs more clarity. Find your purpose before your palette. Ask yourself: what do I want to say about the world through my work? Because talent will get you noticed, but truth will make you unforgettable. Be kind. Be relentless. Be curious. And remember, success is not about fitting in, it’s about standing out with grace.
At the heart of your journey is one of hope and believing in yourself. What would you say to those who are still learning to dream fearlessly?
I would tell them this: your dreams are not accidental; they are ancestral. They carry the whispers of everyone who came before you and believed you could go further. Fear will always be there, but so will faith. Choose faith. Every time. Hope is not naïveté; it’s defiance. It’s looking at the world as it is and daring to imagine what it could be. If you can dream with conviction and act with compassion, the world will eventually meet you where you stand.
“My greatest dream is not just to make clothes, but to make culture, to leave behind something that outlives the trends and reminds the world that Asia has always been, and will always be, the heartbeat of beauty and imagination.”
What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t set out to do just yet?
I want to build a creative sanctuary, a space in Nepal where art, fashion, and philanthropy meet. A place where young dreamers can gather, learn, and create without fear. It’s a vision I’ve carried for years, a circle of giving back, where beauty becomes a force for change.
But there’s another dream that lives quietly in me: to create an Asian Museum in America, a cultural home that celebrates the vastness of our heritage, the depth of our ancestry, and the brilliance of our creativity. I want a space that tells our stories with dignity and delight, where the next generation of Asian artists, designers, filmmakers, and thinkers can see themselves reflected not as outsiders, but as originators.
My greatest dream is not just to make clothes, but to make culture, to leave behind something that outlives the trends and reminds the world that Asia has always been, and will always be, the heartbeat of beauty and imagination.
What’s next for Prabal Gurung?
The next chapter is about scale, but with soul. I want to take the world of Prabal Gurung global in a way that feels both powerful and deeply personal: couture that converses with conscience, glamour grounded in meaning. I’m expanding into new territories; Asia, beauty, jewelry, lifestyle, not as mere categories, but as extensions of a philosophy that believes beauty and purpose can coexist.
My mission has never been just to dress women, men but to celebrate them ,their complexity, courage, and grace. What’s next is an evolution of a brand, yes, but also of a movement. A world where creativity becomes communion, where fashion doesn’t just reflect culture but redefines it through love, courage, and radical hope.
