Skye Newman has been coming into the STUDIO Ü space in Soho for some time. Her first visit was with her brother, Harvey, and since then she has returned regularly – sometimes alone, sometimes with friends, sometimes with her niece. Each visit carries the same feeling. She arrives with energy and curiosity, and a clear willingness to engage with what is in front of her.
She doesn’t treat the space as somewhere to browse quickly or be guided through. She looks carefully. When something draws her attention, she gives it her full focus. She picks it up, tries it on, stands in it, and takes a moment to understand it. Then she moves on and does the same again.
There’s no rush to reach a conclusion. What matters is that it feels right to her.
She asks questions throughout. Not to be told what works, but to understand how something can come closer to what she has in mind. Whether a garment should sit differently, whether it should be tighter or looser, whether it should be changed altogether. Pieces are adjusted in response. Some are refined slightly. Others are taken apart and rebuilt completely. She stays involved the whole way through.
That level of attention isn’t common.
Many artists rely on stylists or creative teams to shape an image around them. These approaches are often built from references, trends, or existing visual language. They can work, but they tend to lead to familiar results.
Skye approaches it differently. Her decisions begin with her own instincts. She doesn’t start from what is current or expected. She starts from what feels true to her. Clothing becomes a way of expressing that, rather than something added afterwards.
To decide for yourself requires more than taste. It requires clarity.
That clarity was evident throughout her recent tour across the UK and Europe. There is a reason the response to her work has grown so quickly. She was named in the BBC Sound of 2026 and included in NME’s list of essential emerging artists. The recent run of shows sold out within minutes. The attention is there, but it doesn’t feel forced.
She speaks about it simply – rooms filled with people singing everything back to her, with real energy and feeling. That connection is clear when you see her perform.
She wore STUDIO Ü Artisanal Blazers throughout. Each piece was one-of-one, constructed in Soho from vintage and deadstock garments. Some were taken apart and reassembled using suspenders. Others were cut open and reshaped completely. A Burberry mac was turned inside out, with the lining exposed. Vintage shirts were rebuilt with pleats at the waist. Caps were altered, with the brim removed to change their form. These weren’t assigned to her. She chose them.
Alongside these, she brought in her own garments. Pieces she had already worn and felt connected to. Some stayed close to their original form. Others were taken apart and rebuilt completely through the studio’s process. The intention wasn’t to replace what she already had, but to take it further.
On stage, it all makes sense. The clothing doesn’t sit apart from the performance. It moves with it. There’s no sense of an image being applied to the music. Both come from the same place.
People notice that. Across images and footage from the tour, attention keeps returning to the garments. People ask where they’re from, or what they’re looking at. Not because it’s loud, but because it feels different.
That difference comes down to ownership.
When an artist’s image is built from the outside, it often lacks the same strength as their work. When it comes from within, it holds.
Skye shows that clearly. She is open, engaged, and thoughtful in how she presents herself, while still feeling grounded and consistent.
STUDIO Ü’s process supports this way of working. Rather than starting from new materials, the studio works with existing garments, deconstructing and rebuilding them by hand in Soho. The outcome is shaped by both the maker and the person wearing it.
In Skye’s case, the direction was already there. The studio didn’t define it, it worked alongside it.
The result feels considered without being forced, and consistent without repetition.
It works because it’s hers.
