The architect of the archive
The journey from the humid ukay-ukay bins of Baguio to the private collections of the global style elite is rarely a straight line, but for Juno De La Cruz, it was an instinctive evolution. As the founder of Open24hrs, De La Cruz has parlayed a childhood obsession with deconstruction and a design degree from Benilde into a global platform for rare, high-stakes fashion archaeology.
More than just a vintage store, he envisions Open24hrs as an ongoing archive and sourcing platform driven by personal taste, technical instinct, and a genuine obsession with fashion history.
This uncompromising eye has recently garnered international attention, with his business being cited on Harper’s Bazaar’s “The Good Buy” podcast during a guest appearance by his long-time collaborator Chloë Sevigny. From sourcing rare denim for Georgina Wilson to purging the closets of Manhattan icons, De La Cruz continues to bridge the gap between archival rigor and modern wardrobing, proving that the most valuable garments are often found in the most unexpected places.
How did growing up in Manila and the local ukay-ukay culture shape your eye for fashion?
I was born and raised in Manila, and honestly, a huge part of my relationship with fashion came from ukay-ukay culture. I remember when I was studying fashion design at [De La Salle-College of Saint] Benilde in the early 2000s, our school had a field trip to Baguio; my blockmates and I went all out thrifting because Baguio has always been known as one of the origins and biggest hubs of ukay-ukay culture in the Philippines.
Back then, I couldn’t afford designer clothes, so thrifting became my way into fashion. Around that same time, I became obsessed with designers like Martin Margiela and Imitation of Christ because I loved the idea of deconstruction and upcycling—taking existing garments or everyday materials and transforming them into something completely new and beautiful. I remember constantly visiting Style.com and printing runway photos to put inside my transparent binder for school.
Fashion felt so exciting and inspiring to me during that time. I think that philosophy really resonated with me because it felt resourceful and creative rather than polished or unattainable.
When I moved to California in 2004, it definitely shaped how I saw fashion and identity even more. I think when you grow up Filipino and then move abroad, you become very aware of how people present themselves and how style changes depending on culture and environment. Even now, I still love the thrill of the hunt and finding that one rare piece nobody else has.
When did you realize that sourcing, rather than just designing, was your true calling?
Studying fashion design honestly pushed me toward sourcing because I realized I was just as interested in the history and life of garments as I was in designing them myself. I’ve always been obsessive when it comes to researching collections, fabrics, construction, and fashion history, so sourcing felt very instinctive to me. Growing up thrifting and hunting through ukay-ukay definitely shaped that mindset early on, too.
My design background also helps when sourcing because I pay attention to details beyond just the label or hype. I look at construction, silhouette, and fabric, and consider whether a piece still feels special or relevant today.
Open24hrs really started from that obsession. I was sourcing pieces for myself first, then eventually for friends, stylists, and collectors; it naturally grew into a business from there.
You’ve mentioned designers like Margiela, Ghesquière, and Lang as major influences. What draws you to their work specifically?
I’ve always been drawn to designers who could take existing garments, vintage materials, or everyday objects and turn them into something completely new. I love the element of deconstruction and upcycling because it feels creative, emotional, and resourceful at the same time.
I also really loved Nicolas Ghesquière’s Balenciaga era because he knew how to make clothes that felt sexy for “cool girls” without being overly obvious about it. It was very “if you know, you know” energy. ‘90s Helmut Lang had that same effortless coolness and precision that still feels modern today. And Vivienne Westwood, obviously, had that spirit of rebellion and individuality that I’ve always gravitated toward.
Your relationship with Chloë Sevigny is a major highlight. How did that partnership begin?
Chloë Sevigny has always been one of my biggest muses because, to me, she represents someone with genuine instinct and personal style. She was wearing things before they became archival or trend-driven; it always felt very natural and authentic to her.
Our relationship actually started very organically through Instagram. I used to run more of a “meme” or “finsta” style account where I’d post fashion memes, inspiration photos, old runway images, and upcoming designers I was interested in. We naturally started talking from there about fashion and, honestly, pretty much anything under the sun.
Over time, the relationship evolved, and I even ended up doing a closet purge with her, where I sold personal pieces from her collection. It was really successful, and we eventually did a part two as well.
What is your “ultimate score” and the one piece that got away?
The steal: One of my best purchases was actually a Patrick Kelly graphic sweatshirt I found on eBay for around $80. I remember DMing the seller, and it turned out she lived only about an hour away from me. We ended up talking more, and I asked if she had other Patrick Kelly pieces in her collection.
Eventually, I went to her place, and she showed me more of her archive, and I ended up finding some incredible gems there, too. Those kinds of moments are honestly my favorite part of sourcing because it becomes more than just shopping.
The regret: One piece I still think about was a pair of Nicolas Ghesquière-era Balenciaga runway harness booties that popped up on eBay in my size years ago. Not the pair Mary-Kate Olsen wore, but the actual runway version.
At the time, I hesitated for too long, and they sold, and I remember being genuinely sick over it because I knew how rare they were. Thankfully, years later, I somehow managed to find them again, and now they’re part of my personal archive. I’ll never sell them.
What do you think of the state of fashion today? In an era of “liquid” trends and hyper-speed production, who are the “Future Archives”—the designers working right now whose pieces we will be hunting for in 20 years?
Fashion moves so fast now, and I think social media and algorithms have completely changed the way people consume style.
A lot of what we see online feels repetitive because everyone is being fed the same references, trends, and products, so they can be part of the same machine. There’s also so much hype and so many gimmicks happening now that sometimes it makes me not even want to participate in it. That’s probably why I’m drawn more toward archival fashion and older collections; they feel more personal, intentional, and emotionally connected to the designer’s actual vision.
Personally, I rarely buy anything brand new now because I’m honestly not that inspired by a lot of fashion at the moment. But every now and then, I’ll come across an emerging designer with a really strong point of view, and that still excites me.
I think the future archive designers will always be the ones with a very recognizable visual language, rather than designers chasing trends. Designers like Rei Kawakubo, Phoebe Philo, Martin Margiela, Helmut Lang, Nicolas Ghesquière-era Balenciaga, and Galliano still feel modern and emotionally relevant today, which is why people continue to obsess over them years later.
Do you think the industry’s current obsession with “polish” has killed the “resourceful” soul of fashion? Is your sourcing a way of rescuing that soul?
I don’t think the resourceful soul of fashion is gone, but I do think the internet has made everything a lot more performative. Nowadays, someone can be perceived as “alternative” or original online when, in reality, it can sometimes feel very calculated or driven by clout. What’s always interested me is personal style that feels instinctive and genuine.
That’s what I love about sourcing, too. Every piece has a history, personality, and sense of discovery behind it that feels more human to me.
What advice would you give to young designers who want to create pieces that will be “collectible” in 20 years?
I think the biggest mistake now is designing for algorithms and immediate validation instead of emotional or cultural longevity. Everyone is consuming the same references online, so naturally, a lot of the work starts to feel interchangeable. If you want to create something people will still want to source in 20 years, it has to come from a real point of view, not trend forecasting. Longevity is not always about being “timeless.”
Some of the most collectible pieces are deeply tied to a specific moment or culture. What makes them last is that you can feel the designer’s intention and perspective in them.
