ASTANA — What does it mean to carry the Kazakh spirit into fashion? For designers like Aigul Kuandykova from Mechanical Piano and Zhanar Shuraeva from Quraq Korpe (Quilt mattress), it is not about looking to the past for nostalgia’s sake, but rather about embracing an identity forged by freedom, disruption, and reinvention. It’s a spirit that resists confinement, celebrates unfinished edges, and finds beauty in both ancestral memory and the unpredictable now. In their ways, both designers turn to Kazakh traditions – not as static references, but as living, breathing elements that can shape a contemporary global aesthetic.
Collage is created by The Astana Times/ Fatima Kemelova.
Rediscovering the Kazakh spirit: between freedom and fragmentation
Mechanical Piano, a brand founded in 1997, introduced its first collection in 2004. Since then, it has captured the attention of both Kazakh and international audiences. The brand stands out for its unconventional concepts and a creative approach that profoundly resonates with the nomadic spirit. Kazakhness, Kuandykova believes, is about freedom and a lack of rigid protocol. One of the defining features of the Mechanical Piano is its unfinished edges.
“It’s a form of expression. Personally, I like a bit of ambiguity. A polished, overly perfect image—it’s like the person no longer exists. I want the person to speak for themselves. I just give them a platform, a framework for self-expression. It means you’re alive, open to discovery, not boxed in by some fixed protocol,” she explained.
Kuandykova believes in looking dressed up without appearing overdone—this spirit inspires her Mechanical Piano collections and is also inherently Kazakh. “I think something distinctly Kazakh is our ability to look festive, even in everyday life – but not in a gaudy or excessive way. I also love layering – wearing one piece over another, making clothes that work all year round. That’s why our pieces have done well in places like London, where the weather changes all the time. Layering allows for that flexibility. I’m always a champion of functionality. I don’t like clutter or an overload of options—it just confuses people and leaves them unsure of what to wear,” she says.
Aigul Kuandykova. Photo credit: Kuandykova’s personal archive
This is very close to the popular approach for sustainable and conscious consumption.
“Every piece we make has meaning. They’re made to last and to be useful. I try to ensure our clothing is low-maintenance. Take a velvet blazer – it sounds fancy, even impractical. But we try to make it so that you can take it with you on a trip, wear it to a beautiful restaurant in the evening, and still not feel overdressed. You’re elegant, yes, but not trying too hard. I think that too reflects something Kazakh,” she said.
She recalls how Kazakh granddaughters often inherit chests filled with mysterious items from their grandmothers. “My grandmother left me many things. They were collected from all over the world, because my grandfather traveled extensively,” Kuandykova shared.
Much of her inspiration is drawn from spontaneous, intuitive images that come to her in the moment. Yet Kuandykova does not shy away from confronting the more painful aspects of Kazakh identity, which are also integral to her creative process. She acknowledges that Kazakh culture is one of interrupted development.
At the core of the brand is a bold spirit of freedom — closely connected to the word “Kazakh,” which means “free.” Photo credit: Kuandykova’s personal archive
“We didn’t get the chance to mature. There was freedom, nomadism, the desire to become a full-fledged state… and then suddenly – the dictatorship of the Soviet Union,” she reflected. She believes it is precisely this inner tension – between lost nomadic freedom and the external pressure of empires – that fuels original design. This break, this fracture, is where uniqueness is born:
“Sometimes, beauty emerges from what is broken and misshapen.”
To Kuandykova, clothing is a powerful, yet subtle tool. “It’s like a second skin, a representation of a person, their image – and even the way your relationships evolve. People read each other incredibly fast. Many people underestimate this and don’t use clothing as the incredible instrument it is in life. But those who know how to use it – well, I think they gain a lot of advantages,” she added.
As we speak, it becomes clear that the core of the brand is a rebellious spirit of freedom – something deeply intertwined with the very word “Kazakh,” which means “free.”
“I think we Kazakhs still carry the spirit of nomads, this yearning for freedom. Maybe we’re not the best at service – let’s be honest, we don’t make great service staff. And that’s not good or bad. It just is. There’s a stubbornness in us, a wind, a wildness that still runs through our blood and looks for a way out. And where can it go? Perhaps into building a strong, authentic culture,” said Kuandykova.
“Quilting” the past into the present
This sense of unfinished business – that something important is still left to do – perhaps inspired another designer, Zhanar Shuraeva, the founder of the Quraq Korpe (Quilt mattress) brand, which began its journey in the fashion world in 2013. It all started with practical household items like the traditional korpе—a thin Kazakh quilt or mattress – and eventually evolved into fashion.
Shuraeva believes that every Kazakh home should have a korpе. In her view, Kazakh homes should reflect who we are.
Zhanar Shuraeva, the founder of the Quraq Korpe (Quilt mattress) brand. Photo credit: Shuraeva’s personal archive
“There are features that make us Kazakh, and they’re what make us interesting to the world. But we have become depersonalized, anonymous. My mission is to help us fall in love with ourselves again—to love the memory of our grandmothers and the things they made. Back then, some of it may have seemed naïve, not ‘professional’ art, but if you look further back – say, a century ago – there were masterpieces. The things now kept in museums are stunning works by our ancestors, made with their own hands, dyed with natural pigments, spun into thread. The amount of labor that went into them – it’s enormous,” she says.
Shuraeva’s brand also revived the tradition of the kazaksha-koilek (Kazakh-style dress).
“At the time, no other local designer had made it part of their mainstream collections – no one had really stopped to ask what a Kazakh dress could look like today, or how to incorporate it into everyday life so it wouldn’t look like you just walked off a Kazakhfilm set,” she says.
This led to meticulous research into historical sources – old photographs, rare books (back then, just a handful were available), and even films like “The First Teacher” (1965) by Andrei Konchalovsky, which offered rich visual references for Kazakh attire.“There weren’t many sources, so we had to dig, discover, reinvent, and adapt what we found for today’s world. When we quote from the past in our designs, we don’t just replicate – we modernize. We find similar fabrics and create something current,” she explained.
The interest in fashion began with something simple — the korpе, a traditional Kazakh quilt. From these everyday items came the idea to transform cultural heritage into modern style. Photo credit: Shuraeva’s personal archive
Modern Kazakh style isn’t always about bright, juicy tones and there’s truth to that. Kuandykova, for example, emphasized the importance of honoring the original color palette rooted in Kazakh tradition.
“If you live in the steppe and create from what surrounds you, your color palette naturally reflects your environment. There are red poppies, and I love using red. But overall, when you’re nomadic, you don’t live in a saturated rainbow. And if you’re always on horseback, your clothing has to be functional and comfortable. I’m always for naturalness,” she said.
“Even now, our lives are nomadic in many ways. And I think the world is gradually shifting toward a model of smaller, interest-based communities – almost like mini-states. That’s the trend. So when you’re constantly on the move, clothes should be functional. That’s always been important to me,” she added.
Shuraeva agrees. She believes Kazakh clothing colors were always aligned with nature: earth tones like brown, dusty beige, pastel blues, ochres, yellows – everything rooted in the colors of the land.
“Our most festive colors were tulip-red, poppy-red, and coral. But mostly, it was always earthly tones,” Shuraeva said.
Falling back in love with ourselves
Shuraeva believes Kazakh identity is only just beginning to bloom. Her brand Quraq Korpe, which started over a decade ago, has inspired a wave of creativity across fashion, homeware, and textiles. For her, this became a mission. According to her, Kazakhs are only now beginning to appreciate the value of their heritage.
“I feel like we’re only just starting to fall in love with ourselves. There’s been a shift in mindset, a kind of awakening. Why has our brand survived and thrived for 11 years – even though I never planned it, never had the time to treat it like a business? It’s because our people responded. We hit a nerve, we struck gold,” she said.
She reiterates the importance of remembering that “Kazakhstan becomes interesting to the world when it offers a glimpse behind the veil of its cultural exoticism.”
“When we serve our own national dishes, when we play our music, wear a tyubetei (traditional Central Asian skullcap) – that’s when intrigue begins. That’s when you stand out, when you’ve asserted your identity. You’re no longer just part of the crowd,” she explained.
Photo credit: Photo credit: Kurak korpe Instagram page
She draws a parallel with Japan: “We marvel at every little detail there – the fan, the kimono, the wooden sandals, the household rituals. All of it captivates us.”
“We have the same potential. There’s an enormous untapped field just waiting to be explored—dug up, dusted off, and shown to the world with pride. Functional clothing, a round table you can fold and move, quilts – all of these are part of our treasured heritage. We just need to love it more, care for it deeply, and protect its original meaning,” she said.
Shuraeva also notes that “kazakhness” is now gaining momentum across different areas – from national cuisine to interior design, music, and fashion. She enjoys seeing how it fuses with global trends.
“It’s exciting to watch this fusion. We now even have a national clothing day, and people wear traditional attire not just during Nauryz, but also at weddings – giving and wearing it proudly,” she added.
Photo credit: Shuraeva’s personal archive
Looking back, she reflects on how things have changed. According to her, when their brand took its first steps more than ten years ago, none of this existed. Kuandykova, in turn, emphasizes the importance of designer-made clothing.
“The designer pieces carry a huge amount of energy. That’s why I recommend buying designer clothes – not just because I run a brand, but because I know how much intention goes into them. It’s like owning a painting. The energy inside it is real. When you hang a painting in your home, it lifts the space, because it holds positive energy. Designer clothing made by small brands or hand-crafted shoes—it’s the same. It’s underrated, but it’s full of life,” she said.
Shuraeva adds that her team of professionals, including seamstresses, may not always earn big money, but what they create is more than just garments. It’s an expression of creativity, and the energy flows both ways: from the maker to the wearer and back again.
She sees the contribution of Quraq Korpe as part of a larger national image-making effort.
“It’s not just about me. Everyone involved plays a role. In some way, each Kazakh citizen is an ambassador of goodwill. We’re all tending the same field, weaving one great national quilt together. In that sense, our work feeds into a larger vision – a kind of social lift. That’s how we’ve helped people move from a dead stop to discovering the treasure we’ve been sitting on all along – our own cultural heritage,” she said.
Shuraeva concludes with a hopeful metaphor.
“We must become a multilayered pie – flavorful, rich, multicultural. This is a legacy passed down to us. It’s there to be studied, drawn from, loved. And there’s enough inspiration in it to fuel brands and generations to come. For any creative person, it’s a paradise. It’s the kind of beauty that makes you fall in love anew – every single day,” she said.
