Dogukan Nesanir: A vision of inclusive high fashion

It’s not every day you meet a stylist who built a seat at the table themselves, through sheer grit and vision. Dogukan Nesanir, or Dogi, as the industry affectionately knows him, is a Turkish-German creative consultant based in Paris who has styled for the likes of Miley Cyrus, Juliette Binoche and Troye Sivane. But behind Dogi’s glittering credits lies a story of resilience, authenticity, and an unshakable conviction in the power of individuality.

Dogi was brought up in Berlin by his Turkish mother and grandparents who immigrated to Germany in the 1960s. Despite being externally surrounded by a German cultural framework outside his home, Turkish tradition was steeped into his upbringing; his identity was thus forged in a distinct duality. “What inspired me to start my job in the first place was definitely not seeing anyone with my background or anyone near my upbringing in the industry,” the artist tells Dazed MENA. Growing up ‘different’ in an industry dominated by the narrow (boring) characterisations of success meant Dogi had to fight for his place.

Met with outright dismissals from agencies and clients who were unwilling to embrace his vibrant and spirited personality, Dogi leaned further into this individuality – confident that their inability to see his potential said more about their limited taste than his bold vision. At just 16, he began styling small photoshoots, and discovered a passion for the fashion side of photography. By 18, he was funding his own projects through retail jobs, flying to London and Paris on a shoestring budget to collaborate with young photographers.

Free from the confines of what he has called the “staid conventions” of German fashion at the time, Dogi began to refine his true aesthetic. “I’m usually driven by seeing old Middle Eastern music videos,” the creative consultant shares. “Perhaps the biggest fuel for my work is old, traditional folklore clothing and documentation about it.”

Now 28, Dogi’s portfolio boasts editorial work for T Magazine, Vogue Korea, Harper’s Bazaar, and AnOther Magazine, as well as campaigns for Zara, Calvin Klein, SSENSE, Dion Lee and Gentle Monster. His work is persistently chic, epitomising high fashion and a refusal to compromise on his vision. Despite his continuously growing success, Dogi remains acutely aware of the systemic barriers that persist in the industry. This is an issue he holds close to his heart: “I’m hoping to stop the unequal amount of opportunities for certain groups of people with a more simple background or a lack of opportunity to ever be around those circles.”

Dogi’s rise in the industry has not come without introspection. His journey, marked by what he describes as “storms and battles”, is proof that creativity often flourishes in adversity. Dogi’s message to the next generation of creatives is a call to trust that their talent can outshine privilege. ”I would like to achieve a system where people that would like to start out in the fashion industry can have a normal start – and feel out periods – just like kids from more wealthy backgrounds,” Dogi reveals. “Ultimately, I want to create a space that shows that in fact it does not matter where you come from – if you have talent and determination, you will go far.”

The most profound moment in Dogi’s journey was a 2018 project that brought him back to his ancestral village of Kahramanmaras, Turkey. With his cousin Hasan by his side, he captured tender portraits of his family and the place that held generations of memory. At the time, it was a celebration of his roots – a love letter to the town where he spent his childhood summers. In the wake of the 2023 earthquake, which razed the region and took the lives of Hasan, his wife and their children, the project has become an elegy.

“To portrait my family in the village where I am from in Turkey,” remains, for Dogi, a career-defining moment – now rendered by the sacred knowledge that he managed to preserve the last remnants of Hasan’s home. It’s here that Dogi’s mission takes shape: to honour voices that would otherwise fade, to archive ephemeral beauty and to cherish the act of keeping stories alive.