Colbo Chats: Meet the Makers with Isolde Richly of Polyploid

Wednesday, October 14th 2026

Founded in 2017 in Berlin by German designer Isolde Auguste Richly, Polyploid is a brand that balances the worlds of science and art, and the cultures of Germany and Japan. On paper, the premise for the brand sounds quite complex. The name, "polyploid," takes after a scientific term tied to chromosomal replication.

Each season begins with 8–16 patterns, repeated across three categories: A, B and C. In A, every shape is made in white calico, while B and C use different materials, often giving the same silhouette an entirely new function and feeling. Colors multiply the same way: one off-white in A, two in B, and three in C. Pieces made with European materials are produced in Germany, while pieces made with Japanese textiles are produced in Japan. 

The result is a quiet avant-garde; straightforward garments that are as immortal as they are innovative. "In the end, I’m often more interested in the craft than the theory behind it," says Isolde of her own approach.

As Polyploid arrives at Colbo for the first time, we had the chance to speak with Isolde about her science-based, craft-forward approach to design.

1. I’ve read that the name “Polyploid” has to do with a pattern in nature where organisms possess more than two paired sets of chromosomes. Can you speak a bit about the scientific origins of the name behind the brand?

Exactly. The term “polyploid” comes from genetics and describes organisms that possess more than two complete sets of chromosomes — basically a multiplication of something that already exists.

It sounds quite abstract at first, but that’s exactly why I found it interesting to develop a system from it that comes quite close to the idea of A, B and C. Different versions grow out of the same basic form — the starting point stays the same, but the material and execution change the result. Things that already exist in nature can often be a very good starting principle for understanding how something can work.

That’s quite close to the way I work. The exact same pattern can behave completely differently in a fluid fabric than in something stiff and structured. The pattern stays the same, but almost everything else changes. I like that. Change one thing and suddenly you’re somewhere else.

2. Does science influence your practice in any other ways beyond the name?

Not really, to be honest. I’m definitely not a scientist ;) Of course, you can look at a lot of things scientifically, but in the end I’m often more interested in the craft than the theory behind it. I just like trying things out and seeing what happens.

3. Berlin is a city often known to the rest of the world for its architecture, nightlife, and arts and counterculture scenes. A lot of the clothes you design feel very architectural. How does the city factor into the clothing you make?

Berlin influences my work, but not in a very direct way. I never sit down and think, now I’m going to make something that represents Berlin. I don’t think Berlin wants to be represented anyway.

In some ways, Berlin may even be the opposite of a city like Paris. You could probably go to the bakery in a bathrobe and boxer shorts and nobody would really care. People wear strange things here all the time. Pretty much anything is allowed — including looking weird. Not that I particularly want to look weird — I actually like things quite simple. What I like is the freedom of not feeling that you have to dress a certain way.

Maybe that’s somewhere in Polyploid too. The clothes are quite understated and don’t dictate too much. A lot of their character comes through the material — they can feel quiet, loud, sophisticated or sporty.

4. Your brand is distinct in the way that the name not only signifies a pattern, but dictates a pattern of design which each collection follows. Do you find working according to these guidelines to be limiting, expanding, or both? Do you foresee continuing this method for future collections?

In that context, I find rules quite liberating. When everything is possible, you can get lost quite quickly. I need something to push against. I like a good system. Mostly because it gives you something to play with.

When you take a very classic pattern and combine it with a material that at first seems completely wrong for it, something interesting often happens. We’ve made very classic garments from padded fabrics, for example, or a suit from extremely lightweight ripstop that could be packed entirely into its own inside pocket. The garment is still recognizable, but suddenly it behaves completely differently.

So far, the system still gives me new places to go, and sometimes the results surprise me too. When it doesn’t anymore, I’ll probably have to break it.

5. Can you speak about the choice to produce items where their respective materials are sourced, particularly between Germany and Japan? What are the key similarities and/or differences you’ve noticed in production between the two places?

In the beginning, I had this quite idealistic idea that I wanted to produce as close as possible to where the material came from. In reality, it’s not always that simple. But there is often knowledge attached to a place and to the people working there. I’ve experienced that both in Germany and Japan. They are obviously very different, but I recognize something in both: people who really know their machines, their materials, and their craft.

One difference for me is the communication. In Germany, you might get a very direct, “No, that’s not possible.” In Japan, a no is often expressed less directly — but at the same time, I’ve often experienced people spending longer trying to find a way to make something work after all. I find that interesting because it makes you think about the problem differently too.

That knowledge can disappear surprisingly fast. Someone retires, a manufacturer closes, nobody takes over — and suddenly something that took decades to learn is gone. I find that quite sad. So wherever I can, I try to keep working with what’s already there. It isn’t always the cheapest or easiest way. That’s okay.

6. What's on your mind or mood board as of late as you look ahead to the next season?

Right now, I’m really looking forward to winter — mostly because of the materials. Loden, heavy wool, knitted fabrics... there’s a lot to play with.

But maybe the most important thing on my mood board is actually silence. I like working alone, often late at night, when everything is quiet. That’s when you can hear the fabric.

Sometimes I touch a fabric and immediately know what it wants to be. When the fabric talks, it’s good to listen ;)