The Black Book

You spent your formative years between Tel Aviv and Hong Kong, two incredibly dynamic and contrasting cities. How did each of those places shape your early relationship with fashion and aesthetics?

Tel Aviv gave me a deep appreciation for individuality, it’s a place where people express themselves with confidence, often in contrast to the chaos around them. Hong Kong taught me about precision, discipline, and presentation. Growing up between these two worlds made me hyper-aware of how women express identity, power, and beauty through clothing. That duality still informs my design language today.

Moving to New York feels like a natural step for someone with such a global upbringing. What drew you to the city, and how did it shape your creative path?

I actually moved to New York in high school, so a lot of my adult identity was shaped here. New York is where I became myself. It’s where I learned to navigate the world on my own terms. The pace, the ambition, the mix of cultures, it challenged me to find clarity in who I was and what I wanted to say creatively. It also gave me space to experiment, fail, evolve, and grow up, both personally and as a designer.

Your first step into fashion was through accessories. What sparked that early venture, and what ultimately led you to expand into apparel?

I’ve always been drawn to the way people use small, intentional details to communicate who they are. Accessories felt like an intimate way to begin, a bridge between fashion and anthropology, honestly. But eventually, I realized I wanted to tell a fuller story. Apparel allowed me to build that narrative with more depth and intention. It wasn’t just about adornment anymore, it was about silhouette, energy, presence.

Looking back, was there a moment when everything shifted — a piece, collection, or moment of recognition that felt like a turning point?

This fall’s suiting collection feels like that moment. It’s the most intentional and personal body of work I’ve released. I spent the year deep in research, I visited vintage archives, family-owned ateliers, even returned to Hong Kong to walk the same factory floors I grew up around. That trip grounded me, it reminded me that I’ve always seen clothing as architecture, as legacy.

The collection is built around the concept of power through precision. We designed seven full-color suits, each offered as a complete three-piece set, the 1988 blazer, Soprano pants, and Alesis vest. Each piece is designed to stand on its own but becomes even stronger together. It’s my way of reclaiming the suit as something that belongs to women, not borrowed, not adapted, but made for us from the ground up.

That collection brought everything full circle. It wasn’t about chasing relevance. It was about returning to my roots with more intention, more clarity, and more conviction than ever before. It was a shift not just in the brand, but in me.

Travel has always been a core part of your creative process. How do you translate a destination into a visual or emotional narrative? Is there a place you return to often for inspiration?

I moved a lot growing up, so the idea of being a world citizen isn’t just a concept for me. It shaped everything. When you’re always the new person, you learn how to adapt fast. You read the room. You listen before you speak. That need to fit in everywhere made me really aware of how people use clothing to show who they are, even before they say a word.

That’s what drew me to study anthropology at NYU. I’ve always been curious about culture, legacy, and how trends actually start. Not from marketing, but from real people and places.

When I travel, I don’t go looking for fashion. I watch movement, energy, daily rituals. I take in how women carry themselves. That’s what I bring back into the collection. I return to Hong Kong often. It’s where I first understood structure, but I find inspiration anywhere. I just stay open.

What were some of the early challenges that shaped you, creatively or operationally?

I didn’t come from a traditional fashion background. I didn’t have a roadmap. I learned by doing, and sometimes by failing. There were moments when I completely fell on my face. I made mistakes. I had to start over. But every time I got back up, I came back sharper. More focused.

The biggest challenge was figuring out how to build something real without losing who I was. Fashion can make you doubt yourself. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone wants you to follow a formula. But I knew the woman I was designing for, because she was me and the women around me. I just had to trust that.

On the business side, I had to teach myself everything. How to run a brand. How to scale. How to build a team. That part doesn’t come naturally when you’re creative, but it’s where you grow the most. It taught me resilience, discipline, and how to lead with clarity.

Did you always know who the Ronny Kobo woman was, or did that evolve over time? How would you describe her today?

At first I was designing for the woman I wanted to be. I was younger and still figuring it out. But with time I realized I was designing for the women around me too. Real women. Friends. Creatives. Women who are building things and showing up for themselves every day.

Now I know exactly who she is. She is confident. She is curious. She makes decisions for herself. She wants clothes that match her pace and her energy. She wants to feel like the best version of herself.

What has building the brand taught you about yourself, not just as a designer, but as a person?

It taught me how strong I really am. Building something from nothing, especially as a woman in this industry, forces you to grow up fast. You learn how to lead, how to protect your vision, how to make decisions no one else can make for you.

I learned that my power comes from being clear. Clear about who I am, what I want, and what I stand for. I do not need to be the loudest in the room. I just need to be the most honest. That has been the biggest shift for me. Owning that voice and knowing it is enough.

When you look back at your journey, from Tel Aviv and Hong Kong to New York and beyond, what are you most proud of?

I am proud that I never gave up. I built something real without following a formula. I stayed true to my voice, even when it would have been easier to play it safe.

I am proud that the brand reflects who I am and where I come from. It holds my story. It speaks to women who see themselves in it. And after all these years, they are still here. That connection means everything to me.

Where do you see the brand evolving over the next five years? Are there new categories or ideas you’re excited to explore?

I want Ronny Kobo to become one of the most important contemporary brands in the world. That has always been the goal. But it is not just about scale. It is about building something with meaning and impact.

As a woman founder, I feel a real responsibility to lead by example. I built this from scratch. I stayed true to my vision. And I want young women to see that and believe they can do it too. That matters to me.

The brand will keep growing globally. I want to keep telling stories, building community, and staying close to the women who wear it. The purpose is bigger than fashion. It is about showing up fully as yourself and creating space for others to do the same.