Ilia Malinin’s Whirlwind Year

In the weeks leading up to this winter’s Milano-Cortina Olympics, the figure skater Ilia Malinin burst onto the international stage with verve—undefeated in elite competition for over two years, his powerhouse performances in the team event would be instrumental in cinching the gold for the United States. The nonstop flurry of press appearances appeared to barely faze him; if anything, he seemed to gain more momentum as his profile grew over the brief span of weeks. Only after his eighth-place finish in the individual competition—in which Malinin still embodied sportsmanship, gracefully supporting his competitors’ (particularly Kazakh Mikhail Shaidarov’s stunning come-from-behind victory) successes—did he begin to limit his media responsibilities to take time to reflect with the support of other Olympians.

The 2026 Olympics were, by any metric, a crucible for Malinin. Figure skating is indubitably the marquee event for the Winter Games, and Malinin stands firmly at the top of the sport: hundreds of global publications emblazoned headlines with his name, and the International Olympic Committee and its broadcasting partners inundated feeds with his image and videos of his superlative technical feats. His career already boasts an extensive list of firsts and milestones that have reshaped the possibilities of his sport: Malinin is the first and only skater to land a quadruple axel in international competition and he shattered convention by landing seven clean quads in one performance at last December’s Grand Prix Final in Japan. He holds three consecutive World Championship gold medals and three world records; in Milan, he was the first competitor to legally perform a backflip at the Olympics—and landed it on one foot. As a result, the resounding global consensus well before he arrived in Milan was that the individual gold medal was the Quad God’s to lose.

Few 21-year-olds are equipped to navigate such a deluge of external pressure. Reflecting on the experience now, Malinin seems to have emerged with a sharpened sense of perspective. “I’ve learned so much,” he says. “Sometimes you think you know it all, but then you realize that there are some things you learned from it or that you knew you needed earlier. I realized that I should be more open to understanding, learning more, and appreciating everything.”

Part of that appreciation involves knowing when to step back from the machinery of the sport. He is currently weighing a significant departure from the competitive calendar, contemplating skipping the first half of the upcoming season—specifically the Grand Prix series—to recuperate. “I should take a bit longer of a break to let myself cool down from these past four years of constantly driving myself to overdrive. I’ll make a statement if I do decide to,” he offers. Instead, he is seeking a period of “chaos“—leveraging his newfound free time to concoct new ventures.

For one, he’s pondering where (or even if) to channel his academic energies next. “If I were to go back to school, I would definitely want to do something in design and photography,” the George Mason University student declares. “It’s not going to be what other people want me to do—like business, because it’s useful. My interest right now is being creative and artistic.”

In this “chaos,“ Malinin is beginning to conceptualize a new iteration of his brand, moving beyond standard athlete merchandise in hopes of building his own version of a fashion label. “I’m going to restart my merch brand and revamp it,” he says, eager to dive into conversation with established talents in the industry. “I really want to collab with different brands or artists to make a signature piece!” He muses on, for example, offering a “Quad God x Yohji Yamamoto“ design. “I have the idea of turning [my pieces] into a clothing brand and having a merch line as well,” he says, “also starting my own clothes [line] or designing outfits for people in the future.” He’s in no rush, however: “I’m taking things very slow.”

The semiotics of his wardrobe have already triggered a minor earthquake in the traditionally conservative world of figure skating. When Malinin opted for Balmain jeans during the Olympic exhibition gala, the garment spawned headlines across fashion media—from The New York Times: ”Quad God Dresses Like Mere Mortal,” British GQ: “Sorry, did Ilia Malinin just figure skate in £1,000 jeans?”, and Hypebeast: “Ilia Malinin Makes a Bold Statement in $1,100 USD Balmain Denim.” “I assumed that the Olympics would be big and the program itself would be big, but the controversy behind the jeans was crazy,” Malinin admits, acutely aware of the interplay between generating headlines and forging relationships in a new, luxury-oriented industry. “It actually helped me a lot in the long run to go more into the style, fashion, and [becoming] a part of that world.” The blueprint is already there—his Team USA colleague and fellow Gen Z skater Alysa Liu recently inked an ambassadorship deal with Louis Vuitton.

His proclivities in fashion include both heritage European houses—“Prada is on my list. I want to work with luxury brands like Versace, Gucci, and Dior”—and technically inventive Japanese heavyweights including Yamamoto and Issey Miyake. For this cover shoot, Malinin donned a particularly striking dress from Issey Miyake’s Spring 2026 collection—a garment that leveraged both his athletic physique and his artistic curiosity. “That was one of my favorite outfits,” he says with a grin. “I looked like a thorn bush! I really liked that piece.”

In April, Malinin decided it was time to launch his YouTube channel after toying with the idea for years. His sole video to date—a brief introduction—has racked up hundreds of thousands of views and nearly instantaneous public recognition from the social platform itself. For a digitally savvy athlete who built his social presence well before taking the Olympic ice, it seems a natural progression. For Malinin, it’s been a long time coming, and serves as his way to bring fans along as he breaks new ground—and perhaps the gateway to an even more expansive media career.

“When I was younger, I’d watch a lot of gaming videos, and that’s originally what I wanted to do for YouTube or livestreams,” he notes, while simultaneously emphasizing that his intentions have pivoted and broadened. “If I go into one specific [direction], I won’t be able to show as much of who I am.” Through the channel, Malinin is keen to platform all of his creative ventures, which have seemingly multiplied across our three successive conversations since last November. “Starting, it will be more daily life. ‘Today, I’m learning to make music! Oh, this next time I’ll be trying to design my own fashion pieces.’ Another time, ‘I’ll be gaming today!’” he says with excitement. “[Streaming was] very coincidental and occasional. I want to do that a little more often and have a platform where I can stream to multiple destinations. Then I’ll be able to reach a bigger audience.”

Hearing him speak eagerly about his ventures and desire to broadcast his own brand through his own lens, it is clear Malinin is ready to wrest his image back after the torrent of coverage around the Winter Olympics. Following his atypical performance in the individual competition, he posted a brief video to social media hinting at his exhibition program, accompanied by an emotionally charged caption stating his disdain for the pressures mounted on him: “This message and this program or song really spoke to me and really represented how I’ve been feeling the last year heading up to these Olympics. There’s been so much pressure, so much doubt, and everything around me—the noise, the media, the people, the environment—it’s been so overwhelming.”

“I’m starting [YouTube] as a hobby and trying to be more open about anything I do, sharing it with the rest of the world because at this point I don’t have many worries about what people expect from me. I just do what I want to do,” he bluntly states. In a recent interview with the Minnesota Star-Tribune, Malinin dug even deeper into his qualms with being treated as engagement bait, stating, “Everyone was using me to produce attention. They were using me to do things that benefit TV. Even after what happened at the Olympics, they were constantly filming me even though they could have videoed the medalists.”

Now, by pulling back from his typical annual schedule and prioritizing his own well-being (Malinin is particularly excited for a multi-week cruise on the horizon), he can free up time for uncharted territories. “[I want to] balance skating with going to fashion shows, representing brands, modeling,” he remarks, clearly enthused. “Those things make me feel joy and show that expressiveness of creativity that aligns with what I do on the ice.”

Yet, for all the talk of high fashion and digital autonomy, Malinin remains grounded by a profound sense of responsibility. When I broach the prospect of moving closer to New York to train in design or photography, Malinin is quick to minimize that prospect (he is based in Washington, D.C., where he trains at SkateQuest under his parents’ tutelage), “While my career is still going, [D.C.] is really convenient. It would be pretty tricky to drive three hours to New York and three hours back home to skate. Most likely, I’d take [courses] online for now until I’ve really found a steady area where my [skating] career isn’t going to have so much of an impact.”

The transition Malinin is currently navigating is perhaps his most complex program to date. It is the attempt to reconcile the technical mastery required to be the best in the world with the artistic vulnerability necessary to be steeped in various realms of creativity. “We make art on the ice and [there’s] also just so much technical ability that goes into it,” he reflects. “It’s a really beautiful mix of the strength of someone’s body as well as the beauty, creativity, and artistry of it.” Ultimately, he is captivated by what humans can accomplish across disciplines. By utilizing the avenues now afforded to him through success on the world stage, he is primed to push his dizzying levels of determination onto new ice—we’ll just have to see where he takes us next.

Be the first to see this story and many more in print by preordering your copy of our eleventh issue here. Ilia has selected the Best Friends Animal Society, a nationwide network of rescue groups, shelters, and animal welfare organizations, as the recipient of proceeds from direct sales of CERO 11.⁠