TEST-DRIVING WITH
GOGO GRAHAM

In Conversation with Devan Díaz, the Designer
Reflects on Clothing Too Personal to Be Couture

Interview: Devan Díaz
Photography: Gogo Graham

“Protection, identity, adornment, modesty, and immodesty,” says designer Gogo Graham, are the five reasons we wear clothes. We’re in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Bushwick, her home of nearly seven years, and she’s repping her local post office on a baggy T-shirt. It’s where she mails out the clothes, bags, and accessories she sells online. Since launching her brand in 2014, she’s been scavenging reusable materials, assembling the scraps, and constructing her world as she sees it. Rather than using a fit model, Gogo sews onto herself or employs the assistance of friends. The body determines the clothes, and each stitch is guided by the wearer’s essence. This measured tradition has stayed true from the beginning, regardless of fashion’s impulsive calendar. In an industry brimming with options, Gogo offers a way out: Choose yourself.


Scrolling on Gogo's Depop, the online platform she uses to sell her designs, “SOLD” nearly crosses out the entire page. I lament over a black mesh top decorated with bra cups, craftily placed on the outside of the hips and shoulders. Recently sold is a gown made of five tank tops with shoulder straps facing downward, hinting at the clips of a garter belt with the ease of cotton. Today, she’s carrying a bag made of tough green surgical material, soft pink straps, and a puff of fabric across the bottom. Her screen-printed logo peeks out behind its appendage. “I’m not sure why this one hasn’t sold,” she says. “I’m testing driving it right now.” Trying things on, feeling things out, moving on to the next idea—Gogo’s instincts have guided her brand’s survival for almost a decade.

Last February, Gogo staged her fall collection with the assistance of actress Hunter Schafer, who sponsored and walked in the show. This granted Gogo the funds to compensate the models fairly, and the time to focus on the designs. Faces recur season after season, and they’re on a first-name basis: Leah, Fashion, Cecilia, Maya. These girls have supported her from the beginning, participating in the act of creation together, fashioning themselves and their bodies to suit their lives. Like Gogo, many identify as transgender. This aspect was covered relentlessly in the beginning, the press often labeling the designer as an activist above all else. “I wasn't trying to make a political statement,” she says. “It’s always been about the clothes.”

Devan Díaz

Gogo Graham

Do you still design clothes with your friends in mind?

Sometimes when I’m working on something, I'll be thinking about a friend, and ask myself “Would they wear this?” I never have a specific customer in mind, but I have trustworthy friends that will tell me if an item is sellable. Maybe it’s the Libra in me trying to please people. My specialty is putting together materials people don’t expect to see together. The feel and wear that is expected from clothes people want to buy is something I’ve had to learn. People want to be cute, and comfortable. I’ve had people buy my gowns, but it’s very rare. Eveningwear and garments involving corsetry interests me the most but it isn’t very practical. They’re good for shows, though.

Has practically become more important since you’ve started
selling?

For sure. I try to make more casual stuff, and I’ll test them out so I can know if they work. I have a bunch of failed prototypes I give away to friends, like if I cut an armhole so small it cuts your armpit every time you move. I’m learning with every piece I make.

Are you mindful of comfort when turning a look?

I will sacrifice comfort, but it depends on the situation. If I'm going out to dinner, I’ll wear something uncomfortable because it’ll only take a few hours. If I’m running errands and bopping around, I’ll be a little more conscious of my comfort level. But I don’t mind if my circulation is being cut off by a garment. [Laughs] If I’m trying to sell an accessory, I’ll make some wacky look to go with it in the shoot. In that case I don’t care about how practical it is, because it’s not about that, it’s about the bag or the key chain I’m trying to sell.

You model everything you sell online yourself?

Yes. If I’m going to sell something, I need to be paying the model more than I would pay them to do a show. Because I’m going to be making real money from that item. That’s why I model it myself, because I don’t have the budget to pay people fairly. I’ve been asked to model in exchange for clothes, and I don’t feel comfortable doing that with my brand. I’ve modeled for no money before. If I like the designer it feels worthwhile. Editorials and shows are financially draining.

What is it like to design directly onto your body?

Overall it has been a good thing to model for myself. It’s stupid that this is coming out of my mouth, but I’ve accepted that I don’t have to be perfect, whatever perfect means in this fatphobic society. I am affected by that culture, and I know we all have internalized ideas about perfection. So however my body looks, that's how it’s going to look.

Does activism mean anything to you?

Back in 2014, or 2015, people threw the word “activist” around a lot. I think that’s offensive to people who put in the work to organize. I’m a fashion brand. I’ve designed clothing for trans people, and I have something to say about our experiences, but that doesn’t make me an activist.

Is fame important?

To some brands, yes. To have a celebrity wear your clothes garners attention, and sometimes it doesn’t matter who the celebrity is. I’m much more invested in people I think are cool wearing my clothes. It’s complicated, because if you’re a business-minded person you can turn attention into money for your brand. I don’t think I'm a business person.

Is that a strength?

Not necessarily. I could be more comfortable financially. There’s a lot of times I wish I was better at the business end of stuff. I don’t want to be pessimistic, or suggest that fashion is a terrible industry. If I can make my stuff work, with the money I have, I’m happy. If I can make a living doing it, I’m happy. If I can make stuff that my friends enjoy, I’m happy. If I can do all that while reducing the amount of exploitation I’m involved with, I’m happy. Getting those things isn’t the same as getting to be recognized as a “cool” brand. Those are two separate goals. “Cool” means being recognized by a large audience, and being sold in as many stores as possible.

Do you care about mass production?

My goal is to be able to make clothes, have some downtime, and have really cute gigs for the girls whenever I can. When Hunter Schafer sponsored the last show, it was the first time I was able to compensate for models the way I’ve always wanted to. That’s harder to do than figuring out a way to pay your bills. I’m always having this struggle of wanting to do more, so I can have a bigger budget, and pay people more. It’s always a back and forth of wanting to keep it small, but also, how much can I achieve without being exploitative?

Are you reluctant to call yourself an artist?

Fashion isn’t art to a lot of people. Over the years I’ve accepted that because I model things myself, or work in fashion, or openly make money on OnlyFans, the work gets taken less seriously. If you do anything involved in the sex trade, people get very nervous. It’s less now, but I know people who can’t say they do it because it would eliminate their chances of getting work. It doesn’t make sense for me to dwell on it, because I have to do certain things to make money. Perhaps industry leaders don’t like it, but I have to do it.

Have sex trade aesthetics entered fashion?

If you look at brands today, or how people dress online, the whole look is giving whore. [Laughs] Everyone is obsessed with the sex trade. For women, there’s a lot of room for experimentation and wearing revealing clothes. A lot of the blank profiles that hit me up are men wearing a lot of the same stuff women are, like mesh onesies or fishnet bodysuits—clothes associated with the sex trade. For a lot of them it’s a fetish they feel they can’t express publicly, and women may have the same fetish but will wear these clothes outside. Who you are can affect the clothes you wear. It’s complicated. I would love it if those guys wore those clothes out and about. It would be best if everyone wore whatever they wanted. But reality doesn’t make that possible.

Is that why we’re all in a fantasy?

Online I see people wearing crazier things than I see on the street. I don’t know how I feel about it. I’m happy the internet exists for those people. I’m interested in the people who are living a fantasy when they step outside. I want to make clothes for people who are doing that, but also people who just want to support the fantasy. There are people who want to support my brand because they like what I’m doing, but aren’t necessarily adventurous dressers.

Do you sell accessories to reach the more reserved supporters?

A lot of the clothes I make are made to fit my body, which typically only fit people who are my size. You don’t have to try on bags, and since I only sell stuff online, if you're not sure about the fit it’s so much easier to get a bag. Accessories are a way to reach more people when I can’t pay for a fit model. It’s necessary to make accessories, because it makes the brand more interesting if it includes a whole look. If you can make something that people can feel sure about when clicking “buy,” to me it is a brilliant design.

Anyone can wear an accessory.

Exactly. Whenever I have shows I cast models of all sizes, but that just happens because people who I think are cool are all different sizes. All the clothes I sell are made to fit me, so they don’t capture a wide range of bodies. Unfortunately, it’ll continue to be that way until I can afford to hire fit models. I want to have a quality product, and until I can really do that, I don’t want to pretend just to check a box. People deserve better than that.

Devan Díaz is a writer from Jackson Heights, NY.