While I am not the face of my brand, I am the heart and the brain — actually, the whole body and soul behind it. I stand behind what Percrisis is and how it was created. I like how the name is underlined, as if I made a spelling mistake, but it certainly feels the opposite.
I’ve put the coin in the slot, and now comes the fun part: perception, exposure, and feedback.
Oh, my dear artist, what do you have to say? We await your short-form content. Feed the algorithm! Feed the algorithm!
This will be a brief introduction — indeed, a piece of short-form content. I want to keep it digestible so we can mutually respect each other’s busy schedules and dopamine receptors. Thank you for taking the time to dive in. Therefore, we begin.
What is Percrisis, at its core?
I wouldn’t be writing this if not for the genuine support, encouragement, and kind words of the people I’ve had the privilege to work with and for, people I’ve met, talked to, or admired from a digital distance. While I still consider myself a scholar (and that feeling will never leave), I finally feel ready to materialize the process. At the same time, I feel the need to burst the social media bubble a little. It is very easy to create an illusion around a brand or a persona, where it often becomes more important than the work one may produce.
This space exists as a way to puncture that illusion from time to time. It’s a format that allows me to be more personal and transparent, to share fragments of process and thought behind the brand. Through this, I hope to encounter like-minded people and continuously refine the voice and direction of Percrisis.
In a world that values performance over process, this year for me was about truthfulness and connection. It’s not something I felt the need to turn into a photo dump, but rather something that grows quietly through observation, analysis, and reflection. There were many moments when I had to physically freeze, just to take everything in. It placed me in a passive state of creation — the creation of my brand, its vision, and its voice. Although it sometimes felt like my brain was a vacant space and the lights were off, once the dots connected, the designs began to flow.
It’s hard to talk about a process that happened internally — you can’t take a picture of your brain when you’re witnessing a conversation that quietly shifts your whole mindset. But I remember what I was wearing during those months, and coincidentally, it was mostly my own collection samples. In a way, the process dressed me before I could even articulate it.
Percrisis is short for Permanent Crisis — a name that, judging by current times, will never lose relevance. This is our world, whether we like it or not. And I launched a brand, whether you like it or not.
The brand concept came from me trying to understand my role as a person and as a designer in relation to what’s happening around us. I accepted my fate as an artist, learned to own it, and chose to create despite, or in response to, everything the world continues to witness. For me, art becomes a way to process that intensity. It expresses the energy of life, and through it, I feel the burn inside. In a state of permanent crisis, creation becomes permanent too.
The philosophy behind Percrisis is simple: reflecting the world we dress for. Do we adapt, or do we shape it? It’s a question about what it means to dress in an age of instability — one rooted in both adaptation and resistance, seen through a menswear perspective that isn’t limited by gender. Through Percrisis, I create garments that question structure, function, and the limits of adaptation. Each piece carries both the tension and the calm of constant change.
The collection is not about answers but about asking better questions — through the way the body meets the world. I don’t see clothes as decoration but as evidence of thought. Is someone home between the eyes? You can spot the strangers who openly think just by the way they dress.
I collaborated with Greta Augustinaitė, a Vilnius-based graphic designer, on the creation of my website. The logo was unexpected, yet it became the perfect key to the brand’s identity. It appears as a simple “X” with two rounded edges, but it’s something more. It became a map, where every decision leads somewhere unknown. Along this road of questions, I started seeing patterns everywhere — in thought, in making, in chance. Sometimes you go forward and pursue further; sometimes you strike a wall, bruise your head, lose a tooth, and have to return. That’s the process.
Each collection will unfold as a phase — a step in the evolution of Percrisis. On the website, you’ll find a Phases page: a growing archive of ideas, ventures, and outcomes. Over time, it will trace the direction of the brand — where it’s been, where it’s heading, and what might come next. You can move through it like a story in progress, watching it form, collapse, and rebuild itself again.
It’s a timeline, and perhaps the most honest way to present my vision. I certainly anticipated the first phase, and it’s already here.
In the next issue I will discuss more about the concept and creation process of Phase I. That is it for now, thank you!
The questions continue — and with them, Percrisis.
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