interview by Anna Fitz
photography provided by Yokoo
Atlanta-based designer Yokoo has been picking up steam on the internet, gaining recognition not only for the oversized chunky knitwear that she makes and sells but also because of her eclectic sense of style, minimalist self portraits, and that trademark haircut.

Where did your name come from? Was it inspired at all by Japanese designer Tadanori Yokoo?
Years ago, I had fallen in love with my college freshman English professor, and he had decided to give me a Y for my birthday. It was wonderful. The next day I broke up with him.

The three “O”s were not always so cute. They actually started out as zeroes. When I found them they were rather humble little things. They used to tell me how they were all going to be big, big movie stars one day. I told them if they wanted to be movie stars then they had better change their names, because no one would ever give an Oscar to someone named Zero.

Finally, they agreed and decided to call themselves Oscars. I told them that was just plain stupid, and then they settled on just “O.” Oh, and I fell in love with K because she can cook. But don’t tell her that because she’s really sensitive.

How did you dress when you were in high school?
One has to understand that high school used to be nothing like it is today. Dressing up was not a part-time job the way it is today. You had maybe like three or four kids that put a lot of time, if any, into chiseling a look out for themselves. Because it contrasted so drastically with my environment, I was fascinated with the whole preppy lifestyle. I had a certain fondness for United Colors of Benetton. Then I would incorporate a lot of the underground hip hop hippie movement into my style as well. People like De La Soul had a huge impact not only on my way of dress, but also on how I started to perceive the world. I wore the hippie hip hop haircuts, the big medallions, and a lot of Nikes.

What was your day job before you concentrated on your own designs full time? Did it have any impact on what you do now?
I never had a job for more than a year. Yeah I was definitely one of those that had a hard time with submitting to authority. I would sit at my desk and daydream for hours. I was always inventive. And I always somehow knew that there was something just beyond the horizon of what most people considered success. I didn’t know what it was until I became a little older, and a little wiser. I started to see other young people that were my age doing amazing things with backgrounds that were similar to mine. This left me with a rather concrete diagram of what was possible and how to go about becoming financially independent.

You do a good deal of your business online; how do you think websites like Etsy are changing the way independent fashion designers work? What do you think about people selling their copies of your work?
Esty is a wonderful tool for leveraging your work against the same people you’re selling to. Because many of the sellers are also buyers, the marketing is built right into the website — unlike eBay, where the buyers and sellers are so varied that one has to be a marketing guru to build up a following.

But at the same time, they have made it much harder to brand. Brand is a strange balancing act that goes into the way you approach everything you do. Etsy has allowed me to express my company at a smaller scale. It also allows me to make mistakes that can go relatively unnoticed. But at the end of the day what really matters is the product, and whether your product is worth buying.

It’s okay if someone is influenced by my work, because copying is an art form in itself. I mean, all of my favorite musicians and writers copied in some way or another. But it’s how you allow that artist’s influence to permeate your work.

You seem to be very inspired by movies, like Woody Allen’s Interiors, which you pay homage to on your blog. What other directors and films do you find inspire and shape your work?
Besides Woody Allen, definitely Adrian Lyne has and continues to have a huge impact on my style and work. He is responsible for movies such as Flashdance, Nine 1/2 Weeks, and Fatal Attraction. His and Allen’s styles are so subtle and subdued that no matter how much fashion changes, most women would never readily comprehend how distinctive their looks are. It goes over most people’s heads, allowing it to remain fresh and new. John Hughes’ films I would say motivate me to dress up, but don’t really have much of an influence on my style. Not anymore, at least. I hope not.

There is a line from the movie High Fidelity, “what really matters is what you like, not what you are like.” Do you agree or disagree with this statement?
No, it’s definitely the reverse. Who you are and where you come from dictate what you are naturally drawn to. It’s just that many people don’t feel who they are inside is good enough for whatever reason, so they have placed one’s ability to to say “I like this” as precedent over “what they are like.” And this works on a rather surface level. And most artists do begin this way. But it soon exhausts itself. I find that it is much easier to be an artist who expresses who she or he is as an extension of where she or he is from. One’s own self-story is the gift that keeps on giving. Or at least that’s how it’s been for me.

You are flawed - just like everyone else. You’re never going to be pretty all the time. That’s life. But you’re also a total stunner. By some happy accident of genetics, no matter what you’re wearing or doing, you’re about twelve times prettier (oh, subjective Beauty!) than anyone within a hundred feet of you. You could be three inches shorter or twenty-five pounds heavier and it would still be the case. These are The Facts; accept them and forget them.

The pictures they take aren’t really about you. You are a vehicle for an idea - but it is not your idea, so you don’t get to decide how it plays out. Whoever is directing you has put all kinds of thought into what they want. Take direction, even if you think it will make you Not Pretty (did I already mention this is impossible?). Good fashion is rarely about being attractive in the conventional sense. Editorials are meant to create an aesthetic, convey a mood, and show off some clothes. Again - no matter how impersonal it seems - it’s not about you. Not yet, anyway.

Listen to your photographer and your stylist. They have a lot riding on what comes out of a photo shoot. They probably already have careers and reputations and are even more invested in what goes to print than you are. Besides, the photographer is going to take ten times as many pictures as anyone can ever use, so you have lots of room for error. The reason for all this excess is to capture something unique, enigmatic.

I know you’ve seen a thousand pictures of models with scowls and pouty lips. It may seem counterintuitive, but (and I can’t stress this enough) DON’T MAKE THIS YOUR DEFAULT FACE. It’s not very interesting and, unless you’re really good, it’s going to look amateur and campy. The best thing is to try not to have a Default Face at all. Forget what you see in the mirror, forget your Best Angle. The magic pictures are going to happen in between your “modeling”.

And finally, remember that this is not everything you are. You might be really lucky and make a career out of this, but you probably won’t. Your success or failure here does not define you. You are a living, breathing, three dimensional human who is of infinitely more value than a two dimensional image. Try not to ignore the former: sooner or later it will be your backup plan.
And just please, try to relax.
I promise it’s going to be fine.

c.b.

Photography by Mario Sorrenti

When I saw the images from Chadwick Tyler’s Tiberius gallery exhibition, I was speechless. They were far outside of anything I’d come to expect from a fashion editorial (which is what I first thought it was); I loved them simply because they felt new. The second time I went through them, I was slightly disgusted. My only frame of reference for the stark images of madness and hysteria were holocaust victims, abused women, and the hopeless inmates of Victorian asylums. The gritty black and white shots of gaunt, half-naked and vulnerable women became brutal and exploitative. The third time I went through them they led me to three revelations.

There has always been a lot of discussion around the WORN table about the monster known as Mainstream Fashion. Its visual cues seep into every aspect of media culture, from music videos to detergent ads, an homogenous human landscape of the pale and thin. We absorb more images in a day than our brains could ever consciously process, and we internalize them without analysis. But what are we really looking at? What are the messages underneath the bright clothes and perfect skin?

My First Big Idea
Trying to put Tyler’s exhibit into the context of fashion is both simple and disconcerting. I looked at the images and asked myself, “What do these pictures have in common with fashion photography?” The answer is everything – except the soft sell. The girls are young and beautiful, but instead of placid expressions and flattering glow they stand half-dressed and covered in grime, harsh overhead lighting accenting every bone and angle. They aren’t thinner than other models (indeed, they are models and representative of the industry) but they look painfully gaunt. Vulnerability that, in another context, would pass as limpid or passive is suddenly tinged with madness and desperation. Common poses that might be hidden by couture and setting suddenly seem brutal, insect-like. I caught my breath: Was this fashion’s Dorian Gray portrait? Is this what every shoot would be if we took away the Pretty?

I immediate went searching for more information about Tiberius. I wanted to know what Tyler had to say, but could find nothing. I went looking for critical reviews but, outside of a fairly mindless press release and some very ass-kissy raves from the usual fashion suspects, I had no luck there either. All I had left was Tiberius himself.

My Second Big Idea
I am not an historian. Outside of a few juicy bits here and there, I admit I’m not that interested. As a result, I apologize in advance for my lack of vocabulary and understanding on points of ancient Roman politics. What I managed to read was hard slogging, and what I took away from it could be totally wrong. Nevertheless, this is what I think I found out: Tiberius was the second Emperor of Rome (14 – 37 AD) and he didn’t want to be in charge. After almost a decade in authority, his growing disenchantment with Rome and politics led him to absent himself almost completely, leaving his friend and ally in charge. This man would eventually betray Tiberius by trying to seize power and the emperor, already isolated and angry, fell headlong into a spiral of madness, executing anyone he suspected had plotted behind his back. The Roman historian Tacitus describes the bloody purges:

There lay, singly or in heaps, the unnumbered dead, of every age and sex, the illustrious with the obscure…Spies were set round them, who noted the sorrow of each mourner and followed the rotting corpse…The force of terror had utterly extinguished the sense of human fellowship, and… pity was thrust aside.

Roman historian Suetonius describes Tiberius as paranoid and perverse, fearful and rapacious.

I caught my breath again. Could it be that Tyler was not only mirroring the madness of the emperor, but shadowing the emotion of a man who finds himself in a position he cannot abide? Could Tiberius be a commentary on the photographer’s own disenchantment?

My Third Big Idea
Of course this is all one girl’s train of thought and it could all be nonsense. It may be that Chadwick Tyler didn’t think about any of these things – or anything at all. Perhaps Tiberius is an ode to misogyny or, as one WORN editor wryly suggested, Holocaust Chic. But the thing about this exhibit is that it made me think.

All day long we suck the world into our eyes, we question so little. I do it all the time, flicking through magazines or clicking from site to site: Like. Don’t like. Next. How many things do I simply internalize, never asking why or how it will affect my view of the world or even myself? The fashion industry does a whole lot of dictating, quantifying what is beautiful or desirable. On the other end, fashion critics demonize media images as tyrannical, damaging to our collective self esteem. But I have responsibility in all this, too. Ultimately, my choice to question or not controls both desire and damage.

Tiberius reminded me that I ought to be seeing instead of just looking. That’s what art (and whatever the Canada Arts Council thinks, fashion is most definitely art) should do.

c.b.

Addendum
After all my mental gymnastics, I found Chadwick Tyler’s artist statement with a rather vague and disappointing reference to “the juxtaposition of the meticulous and the disheveled” and “farm kids”, along with this anticlimactic explanation of the title:

Tiberius. Could be a place, a clan, a harem, a community, a gloomy Roman emperor. I can’t say. I like the word.

Hee hee. So maybe I overshot my mark.
You can find the full statement here.

A few months ago I was talking to Serah-Marie (Worn’s Editor in Pants). I had sent her some digital images I was using as inspiration for a photo shoot. In the course of conversation I offered to burn a CD “for the Worn reference library”, a copy of a few years worth of my own internet image searches. “I must have at least 300 or so,” I said. I went home, opened up my image files, selected all, and discovered in excess of 1600 items.

Hi, my name is Coco and I’m an image junkie.

The internet is a beautiful thing. Literally. If I open up my browser to search for a picture, something to illustrate an idea or as supplement to a bit of writing, I can lose myself for hours bouncing from site to site. The chain is endless. My “favourites” list is filled with links to vintage photography sites, random bits of fashion, and other peoples’ obsessions. I rip the photos I love best and save the addresses in case of an image emergency. (Make no mistake, there is such a thing.)

As with any addiction, my dependence makes me greedy, reticent to share. I territorially hoard my stash. As Courtney Love says, “I want to be the girl with the most cake.” But today I’m taking the first step to rehabilitation. I’ve admitted my problem and I’m giving up my top three.

Foto Decadent
Foto Decadent describes itself as a “community dedicated to avant-garde fashion photography”. It is a site populated by fashion lovers who post images (mostly recent, but some vintage and retro) of scanned magazine photo shoots or digital collections by specific photographers. As part of its mandate, FD asks members to use large images where possible, and to offer complete editorials. Also, most posts include fairly complete information on photographers, models, publications and dates. As a girl who writes for a print publication, I probably shouldn’t say this - but FD makes it possible to access tons of mainstream fashion photo shoots without having to spend half my rent on magazines. (I know, it’s appalling in theory - but when was I ever going to buy every international Vogue anyway?) This site has great images and lots of them. It’s also open for comments from members so you can see what sort of reactions people have to different kinds of fashion images. The best part is that it’s got new posts daily.

Photographer: Koto Bolofo
Vogue Germany, 2008

Art Transindex Image Archive
Képeslap archívum: kattintson a kisképekre, hogy megjelenjenek a sorozatok! Okay, seriously - this is a site from Romania and I don’t understand any of it. I can’t even tell you how to get to the images from the home page. All I know is that I stumbled into the archive one day and it was like finding Narnia in the closet. The link I’ve provided takes you to a collection by Hungarian (I think) photographer Matyasi Gabor, but if you scroll down to the bottom of the page you will find hundreds of thumbnails linking you to other image collections. Some are fashion, some aren’t. Most of them are fantastic.
(If anyone can read Romanian and has more information on this site – help!)

Photographer: Matyasi Gabor

Horvatland
When you first see a photo by Diane Arbus or Alfred Eisenstaedt, you stop. Some photographers can do that - stop people in their tracks. Frank Horvat is absolutely one of them. Born in 1928, Horvat began working in advertising in the late 40s. His fashion photography spans 30 years, from the late 50s to the late eighties, but his other subjects include nature and sculpture and, more recently, fiction/fantasy images crafted with digital technology. This is his site and it’s got everything. It’s my happy place - especially the fashion stuff. Horvat’s interpretation of fashion is often joyful and animated. He takes the kind of picture that makes you want to throw on a dress and be fabulous. Because the site is Horvat’s own (rather than an homage or third party collection), each section includes an introduction by the photographer. He explains what was happening in his life and the world when those pictures were taken, and how it affected his work. Not only is it interesting stuff but, when you look up and realize you just spent four hours looking at fashion pictures, you can tell yourself you were learning things…

Photographer: Frank Horvat
Jours de France, 1958

Cheers!
c.b.