Costume designer Mayou Trikerioti joins us on Close-Up Culture to discuss her work on the Amazon Prime show, House of David. Set in 1000 BC in Israel, it chronicles David as a young shepherd anointed by the prophet Samuel to be the next king following Saul’s disobedient descent.
Hi Mayou, welcome to Close-Up Culture. What was your research and prep like for House of David?
Research was the heartbeat of the entire process. We knew from the beginning that visual references from 1000 BC were limited, so we cast a very wide net. Alongside my core UK team, we collaborated with institutions like the British Museum, the V&A, and the British Library. We studied textile fragments, early forms of dress like the subligaculum, tattoos, and footwear. When visual evidence was scarce, we leaned on written records and reconstructed ideas from them—my team drafted these into an ever-growing research library that became our visual guiding light.
We were also fortunate the production had a network of historical advisors we could reach out to—often via quick emails—to verify or challenge ideas as they developed. That layer of real-time academic support was invaluable.
Each sub-department ran with the research in different directions. Sandra (crowds), Chrysa (dye/ageing), and Marianna (armoury) all added incredible depth to the work. The “prep” wasn’t just about making—it was about learning. Constantly.
Can you tell us about the costuming for David and some of the other lead characters, and what approach you took to them?
David’s journey is cyclical, and that deeply informed our design approach. We experimented with tones, fabrics, and aging techniques across every stage of his arc. One costume—the first we see him in—quickly became known as “the iconic.” It’s the same look he wears when facing Goliath. There was just something about it that felt narratively and visually right.
A defining discovery was “David Blue”—a shade rich in both historical and symbolic weight. That tone became a subtle thread through the story, reappearing not only on David but also on Nitzevet, his mother. It anchored him to his origins while foreshadowing his future.
Saul’s arc, by contrast, was theatrical in the most cinematic sense. He begins regal and commanding, wrapped in armour and presence. But as his mental state deteriorates, so does his wardrobe—eventually leaving him stripped down to simple tunics and nightgowns. Then, when the politics required him to perform power again, we created what we nicknamed the “Saul is Well” look: a carefully constructed illusion of strength masking chaos.
Doeg was like a constant shadow in the palace—his costume reflected that. Minimal variation, dark palette, ever-present.
Eshbaal has one of the richest arcs to dress. He begins in a world of indulgence—flowing skirts, open-chested shirts, a sensual, decadent silhouette. Then he’s banished, and his look shifts completely. By the time he returns, a warrior and soon to be crowned, his costume carries the weight of that transformation. And it only becomes more exciting as his arc unfolds into Season 2.
Queen Ahinoam, meanwhile, is elegant with an edge. Her wardrobe was layered and intricate—reds, purples, green silks that moved with grace but never softness. There’s steel beneath her beauty, and her costuming reflects that duality. She holds the court with grace, but she is never ornamental. Every layer, every color shift, spoke to her complexity as a woman navigating power in a male-dominated world.
What were some of the biggest challenges you faced on this project?
The scale was unlike anything I’d worked on before. At the same time House of David was the largest production ever filmed in Greece, and with it came the biggest costume department ever assembled there. So along with the London small core crew, I reached out to Katerina Zoura to be my feet brain and eyes on the ground and build the Greek department that operated from two full bases, had multiple costume trucks, a core team of over 50, and during battle weeks, the team expanded to over 100. The logistics alone were staggering.
Then there was time—or the lack of it. From the moment I officially joined the project to the first day of principal photography, we had just four months. That included all research, design, planning, and prep. In costume terms, that’s a sprint.
Creatively, Goliath was one of our most complex challenges. His costume involved 3D scanning, extensive collaboration with the props and prop armoury departments, and multiple rounds of development with external teams.
And of course, fabric sourcing. You build six versions of a key costume thinking you’re covered, only to realise mid-shoot that you suddenly need a seventh. That’s when quick thinking, deep storage dives, and a bit of costume alchemy come into play.
Are there any fun/interesting costume details that audiences should look out for?
Plenty! One of my favorites is Orpah’s costume. She’s the mother of giants, and we dressed her entirely in white—though, after aging, it was, of course, no longer quite that white. I felt it was important that her hair be white too, so when Achish enters the cave, she feels like a ghost… or an oracle. A haunting presence.
Her costume was beautifully intricate: two fabrics interwoven to create her cape, a 1000 BC re-interpretation of a corseted belt, and a design that subtly aligned with her physicality—her limp and hunched posture from the weight of carrying giant babies. Every detail was hand-finished and aged with care. It’s one of those pieces that speaks volumes before a word is said.
Also, keep an eye on the evolution of David’s blue across the season—it’s quietly threaded through his story. And then there’s the Shadow Warriors of Achish, whose grey netted capes allude to their sea journeys as Philistines. Their layered skirts were directly inspired by ancient reliefs and anaglyphs—historically rooted but designed to read cinematically.
What will be your biggest takeaway from working on this project?
That building something on this scale is only possible with a dream team. I’m proud of the costumes, yes—but even more so of the people behind them. The collaboration, the adaptability, the pride everyone brought to their work—it was extraordinary.
And personally, it reaffirmed that research and instinct, when balanced carefully, can lead to something powerful.
What led you into costume design?
Books first. Then theatre. I grew up in Athens in a publishing household, my mom a writer – so stories were my everyday. But it was backstage—during rehearsals in high school—that I discovered design. Theatre gave me access, and soon enough I found myself building sets, painting flats, sewing. That led me to study scenography in the UK, and later to Bristol Old Vic Theatre School, where everything clicked. I still absolutely love designing set and costumes for the stage. But cinematic costume is to me a perfect blend of visual storytelling, character study, and hands-on craft.
What other periods/genres would you love to work in?
I would love to design something futuristic yet old and aged. Something in the spirit of Blade Runner, Alien, or even Stranger Things -worlds that feel lived-in, textured, and just slightly sideways from our own. I’m fascinated by that blend of forward-thinking design with history baked into the seams to create new worlds.
That said, House of David taught me something I didn’t expect: how powerful it can be to take a period with so little visual reference—so few patterns or surviving details—and put it under a magnifying glass. To push and pull every historical thread until it becomes cinematic, believable, and emotionally resonant breaking a few rules, along the way.
In hindsight, the challenge of reconstructing a distant past while building a visual language for the screen should have been right at the top of my design wish list. It stretched every part of me creatively, and I loved every minute of it.