
Communication often exists within a box of confinement. And that’s why exploring how much can be said with creative mediums is an artist’s greatest tool. Through her residency with arts and music festival Horst, Brussels designer Kenza Taleb Vandeput uses the physical to explore identity and belonging. Taleb Vandeput showcased a large scale textile installation at the festival in May. The towering structure in Vilvoorde’s Asiat Park is draped with embellished fabric and sparks timely conversation on territory and decolonisation. Coming from both a Belgian and Algerian background, Taleb Vandeput used flags to cover a 16-meter antenna reminiscent of a mosque minaret. The work, called ‘Soit Pas Trop Flag,‘ is an extension of Taleb Vandeput’s vision with her brand Kasbah Kosmic. In an interview with Schön!, the designer dives deep into her artistic vision, sustainable fashion and her Horst residency.
When did you start showing an interest in art and design?
For as long as I can remember I’ve always been drawn to weird and unique things anything that stood out, told a different story, or felt a bit off beat. I don’t come from a family of artists. My parents are more on the scientific side so creativity wasn’t necessarily encouraged as a career path. But I always found ways to express myself whether it was through clothes, objects, or just the way I styled things around me. I started to take art and design more seriously as a teenager when I realised it was a language I could use to explore and affirm who I am. Especially with my dual heritage, I was always searching for ways to bridge different worlds and creative expression became that bridge.
In what ways does your heritage influence your style of work?
I think my double culture is pretty much the core of [Kasbah Kosmic’s] narrative. I really feel like I’m exploring a space between two universes. I’m from both cultures, it’s my birthright owning it. This statement drives me directly to up-cycling. The technique allows me to combine things that come from different backgrounds, have different histories, sometimes different cultures. I work around function and symbolism. Heritage workwear, especially from North African or diasporic roots, carries deep cultural memory. It’s often practical, durable, and made with intention. It tells stories of labour, resistance and identity. On the other hand, US sportswear brings in a different kind of cultural energy — performance, play, [the] club scene.

What pushed you to start Kasbah Kosmic?
I started this brand in my living room in 2019 after [not] graduating from fashion school. I [faced] some cultural erasure at the academy where I was told that I couldn’t design modest garments. That kind of academic mindset pushed me to break away and create a space where I could reclaim my identity and aesthetics on my own terms. Kasbah Kosmic really began at the intersection of my own cultural exploration and my deep love for secondhand and archive clothing.
Slow fashion is growing in popularity but is still out paced by fast fashion thanks to social media and micro trends. Do you think slow fashion will ever be able to compete with mainstream fast fashion?
The point of slow fashion isn’t to replicate the system but to challenge it. It’s about creating new values around fashion, ones that honour craft, identity, sustainability and emotional connection. Instead of competing, I think slow fashion is rewriting the rules. As more people become aware of what’s behind their clothes, the movement will only grow quietly but powerfully. Of course, social media has increased the popularity of fast fashion, but I also feel a sort of fatigue around that. I think spirituality will have a strong impact. The more people [are] aware of [how] the system of fast fashion is built, the less they will be influenced by that content.

Can you talk to us about your residency with Horst? What made it the right fit for you?
First of all, the place is so unique. Just to think that [Asiat Park] was a former military based transformed in an artistic and social playground amazes me. Being on site every day has changed my rhythm. Asiat Park gives me space to observe, and to let ideas come from the environment. I’m surrounded by concrete structures, rusting metal, soft moss, flags waving in the wind. It’s a space in transition and I relate to that. It makes me think differently about garments not just as things we wear, but as architectures of belonging, resistance, and imagination. The DIY spirit of the site is something that really connects to my work.

Looking at your installation “Soit pas trop flag,”, why was now the right time for you to create this piece?
‘Soit pas trop flag’ emerges at a moment when the political climate in Europe is becoming increasingly tense with the rise of far-right movements and growing anti-immigrant sentiments. As someone of Algerian and Belgian heritage, I felt an urgency to respond artistically to this atmosphere of exclusion and division. The title itself, a French slang phrase meaning “don’t be too obvious,” reflects the subtle pressures many of us feel to downplay our identities to fit in. Creating this installation now was my way of reclaiming visibility. I aimed to make a bold statement: our stories, cultures, and histories deserve to be seen and celebrated, not hidden away. The use of flags and textiles symbolises the complexities of identity. This work is about making the invisible visible, challenging the narratives that seek to marginalise us. “Soit pas trop flag” isn’t just an art installation; it’s an act of resistance and a call for inclusivity. It’s about standing tall and proud, even when the prevailing winds suggest we should shrink ourselves.
Check out Horst’s summer exhibition ‘There Will Come Soft Rains‘ until 7 September 2025.
photography. Courtesy of Horst
talent. Kenza Taleb Vandeput
words. Shama Nasinde