Hi Erica, we loved finally meeting you in London this summer after being Instagram friends. What were your impressions of London fashion? Anything in particular that surprised or delighted you?
This was my first London visit, and it was love at first sight! I went through a mod phase in high school, and I was thrilled to see vintage shops selling so many great pieces from that period. It’s fun to see the local fashion culture, and London did not disappoint. I saw lots of pattern mixing, bright colors, and whimsical interpretations of heritage clothing.
You mentioned when we met you that you’ve always loved clothes. What’s your earliest memory of that love? Was there a particular piece or moment that set it off?
My mom taught me to love fashion from a very young age. I remember going to the fabric store with her and picking out dress patterns, bolts of fabric, and of course my favorite--buttons and ribbons. We would go to the mall after school when I was older, and she taught me how to evaluate a garment’s quality by carefully examining the tag, stitching, and fit.
When did you first start sharing your outfits on Instagram, and how has your approach evolved over time?
I started a blog in 2006 as a Ph.D. student in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Before grad school, I worked at Nordstrom as a stock girl in the hosiery department. Seattle was such a great city for small independent fashion back then, and I learned about brands like A.P.C., Rachel Comey, Steven Alan, Mociun, Mayle, and many others. I would post outfit photos, dressing room try-ons, sample sale reports, and engage in long conversations with fellow grad students in the comments. I also started a community resale blog, Laws of General Economy, but I stopped after my second child was born. I still post outfits and share discount codes and sales on Instagram, and I have a very small resale group where I pass along clothes to friends, so I guess not much has changed!
You’re a professor of architectural history at the University of Toronto. What’s the focus of your academic work, and does it connect in any way to your personal style?
My research focuses on cultural landscapes of migration. I work on vernacular, everyday architecture, which are ordinary structures that we don’t often think of as “designed.” I’m interested in how buildings express values about the environment, culture, and social practices. Architectural historians often focus on the development of a project, but I am fascinated by the post-occupancy lives of buildings. This connects to my interest in fashion as personal expression. A designer has their own intentions, but what makes fashion exciting is how people interpret and wear clothing. I also spend a lot of time in studio giving feedback, and I definitely apply that critical eye to my own outfits.
As someone straddling the worlds of architecture and fashion, how do you see the two disciplines speaking to each other? Do they share a similar language of form, colour, or structure?
Architecture and fashion have long shared many points in common. From how the profession is organized to studio pedagogy, there are so many similarities. I think the most interesting thing for me is how both architecture and fashion seek creative and beautiful solutions to very basic needs. At the end of the day, both buildings and clothing need to function, they cannot fall apart after one wear, and their designs should resonate with society and individuals alike.
Fashion often carries big ideas about society, identity, and politics (just like architecture). Are there any designers or moments in fashion history that you think have done this especially well?
I think design houses like Marimekko that collaborated with designers beginning in the 50s to create everything from bolts of fabric to plates exemplify the idea that design is everywhere. I also remember being so inspired by Susan Cianciolo’s work beginning in the late 90s. Her textiles incorporate a lot of hand sewing, upcycling of materials, and meditations on what brings us together and nourishes communities. I have long been fascinated by these two approaches to fashion, art, and design. On the one hand, a large design company with a strong brand identity and playful approach, and on the other hand, slow, handcrafted designs that engage with everyday, overlooked materials.
You collaborate with many women- and minority-owned brands. How do you decide which designers or labels to champion?
I don’t actively seek out collaborations, but I am always interested in design created by women, especially people I don’t usually see in the fashion industry. Sharing their work with my community is one of the most fulfilling things about being in this space. I love that we can have conversations about everything from the hilarity and frustration of being parents to what’s happening in society.
Sustainability is a huge topic in both fashion and architecture. How do you approach it in your own wardrobe and your teaching?
I would not call my closet particularly sustainable, either financially or otherwise! I think people are so curious about large closets, and it’s worth asking why. For me, sustainable fashion is a paradox because capitalism demands an endless cycle of consumption and production. The same goes for architecture. Often the most sustainable thing is to work with what you already have, which is why I study everyday adaptations and transformations of buildings over time. With clothing, I try to pass along my clothes to friends. I think it’s so important to share what I already have even though I still want new things. Sometimes I’ll dye a shirt or add patches and ribbons to give a garment a new look, but I would be lying if I said I was a role model for sustainability.
What role do you think Instagram plays in shaping , or perhaps distorting, the way we experience fashion and design today?
I know a lot of us bemoan the changes to Instagram, especially the way that this company mediates our engagement with designers and each other. It can be frustrating, and sometimes I have to step away from the app because I start to notice a microtrend and suddenly it won’t leave me alone. I often think of the Buddhist concept of “papancha” or mindless chatter and snowballing thoughts, and Instagram can often lead to this sense of overwhelming tunnel-vision. At the same time, I love being able to easily meet and have conversations with people I would otherwise never know. So we just have to learn to navigate a system that is designed to manipulate us.
You’ve said you do your fashion work mainly “for fun”. Would you ever consider turning it into a full-blown profession?
For the longest time I’ve tried to keep my account separate from my professional work because I didn’t want to be perceived as frivolous. But lately I’ve been receiving positive feedback from students and colleagues, and it makes me feel less embarrassed that I spend a few hours every day documenting and sharing my outfits. As much as I enjoy what I do in this space, I don’t think I could ever turn it into a career. I am already so lucky to be an academic, but I also know that the minute something becomes a job, it’s not always so delightful. I’m much happier not monetizing my hobby, this also allows me to support designers in a way that feels true to my values.
If you had to describe your personal style as a building or architectural movement, what would it be and why?
Oh man, I can never answer this kind of question. My personal style is basically every strip mall, shopping center, dilapidated mansion, and overgrown garden that you’ve encountered.
Finally - what’s the piece of clothing you would rescue first if your wardrobe was on fire?
The first thing I would rescue is my Milano Silvano moon coat. Don’t laugh, but I actually have a bug-out bag that includes a few of my favorite clothes, so I’ve thought about this very dilemma.
Thank you so much, Erica!
Erica is wearing the Sunshine Jumper in Brown, Red Spotty Neckerchief and Dotty Jumper in Nougat.
