Tell us what you really think - we find out what makes these cult figures tick 

Tim Ryan was born in rural Ireland and taught himself how to sew on his mother’s sewing machine, progressing to sensual, innovative, exciting knitwear that is now seen on popstars and models and stocked at fashion destinations like Browns and Avenue 32.

What do you consider the high point of your career? I don’t think in terms like that. A whole day off would be a career high point … I mean being stocked by Browns was great but I didn’t think of it in that way because everything that is a progression means you have work more and to a higher level. It’s a challenge. You don’t get to sit back and say, ‘Yeah that was a high point.’ It’s been very organic, I’ve always worked to my own rhythms, collections are ready when they’re ready.

Do you have private clients as well as selling ready-to-wear? Yes, I’ve always done that, and I guess because I didn’t train, that’s been my main education, working with private clients, women who are all shapes and sizes, figuring out what their needs are and what works and what doesn’t for very different customers.

Where do you call home? London is definitely home. It’s only this year that I realised that. It took a long time to feel that. London is huge and overwhelming at times, much more so than Dublin, but Limehouse in London is home now.

What do you do on a day off? Hmmm, days off [laughs].  They tend to be a busman’s holiday. Even if I’m off I do something related to work, whether that’s seeing exhibitions or just being out and about. I don’t cope with stress badly, I don’t find work stressful. I always try and see the positives, see work as an opportunity rather than something to be stressed about. I live in a live-work studio so those separations are a little muddled. Work is there all the time but I don’t see it as something hanging over me. In the evening I’ll just potter away making something small or swatches.

Do you have a role model in art or fashion? There are people I definitely look up to, I feel inspired by Buffy Sainte-Marie or Sinead O’Connor, people who are very fearless about what they do. But where that becomes relevant to fashion, I don’t know. There isn’t scope to do that in fashion. Nobody wants to hear a fashion designer’s political point of view. It’s almost frowned upon if you do have opinions. It’s like, keep it silly, keep it about Miami. But that’s not me – I’m not going to say Bianca Jagger is my hero because she manages to have the best legs in the world and carries off a walking stick with great style. I’m sick of all that bullsh*t.