#GIRLBOSS Page 14

  Christina and I always did this by shopping with a focus group in our heads. At trade shows we held up different pieces and asked each other, “Can you see anyone in the office wearing this?” The office has always been populated with girls who are style-obsessed and Nasty Gals IRL, so if the answer was no, we just didn’t buy it. I remember in 2009 we bought a whole lot of all-black everything. Rick Owens and Alexander Wang ruled the runways; under their influence girls were obsessed with asymmetrical draping and lug-soled combat boots in black black black. If anything was adorned with metal studs, then it was almost too hot to handle. If we sold studded underwear, I’m sure it would have flown off the site. By the time girls could walk into Forever 21 and snap up studded booty shorts and platforms, we figured it was time to lay off the studs. This was about the time when the fashion world started to get a little preppier. Our customers loved short sets, button-up pinafore shirts, and ice-cream pastel colors, so for a while that was what we sold before we inevitably moved on to something else.

  We always listen to what our customers want, but we don’t buy into every trend that comes along. If the silhouette du jour suddenly becomes that of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and fashion tells you that you should be wearing egg-shaped sweatshirt dresses that obscure your waist and emphasize your butt, well, you can buy that someplace else. Nasty Gal doesn’t want you to look like a marshmallow.

  Selling vintage is a really good exercise in learning to recognize what people want right now as well as what they’ll always want. Nasty Gal always participates in the dialogue of the fashion industry, but there are core things that we talk about even if they’re not gracing the pages of Vogue at that particular moment: a rock tee, a motorcycle jacket, red lipstick, biker boots, skinny jeans, leather pants, a white lace dress. You have to know what looks good on you personally, and we have to know what looks good on us as a brand.

  The epitome of style has always been the chic French woman: an Alexa Chung–looking gamine with simple, elegant clothes, such as loose shift dresses, and an overall effortless, understated cool. Yet if I may quote Bob Dylan, “it ain’t me babe.” I’ve got hips, and as soon as I got to a point in my life when I started to dress according to what actually suited me, I realized that if I didn’t wear something that accentuated my waist, I looked like I was toddling down the street in a refrigerator box.

  When I started the eBay store, my only styling experience was getting dressed in the morning, so I dressed the models as though I was dressing myself. That meant that if a garment didn’t have a waist, I gave it one. I also learned that while hints of androgyny worked for my favorite models, it didn’t work on eBay, where the thumbnail photo was pretty much the size of, well, a thumbnail. Thus, if my models had short hair, or even long hair pulled back into a ponytail, they might as well have had shaved heads. We always went with a look that was either a strong lip or a strong eye, which is now a staple of the Nasty Gal look. My most iconic model was Nida. A towering Thai girl at five foot nine, she was as bold as they came. She did her own hair extensions and wore false eyelashes as part of her everyday routine. In the photos she looked like a bombshell with hair down to her waist. This really stood out on eBay, where most of the models at the time were still dress forms or hippies in sandals. From this amalgamation of things the Nasty Gal look was born. For us, it’s never been about boobs and butts, but waists and hips (W&H instead of T&A . . . Get it?) and the styles that show them off: high-rise pants, cropped jackets, fit and flare, bandage dresses. Nasty Gal shows a little bit of skin somewhere—like a thigh-high slit in a maxi skirt—and if it’s not, it’s making up for it with a whole lot of attitude. I believe a #GIRLBOSS should have a sneer and a smile in her back pocket, ready to whip either out at any moment.

  Nasty Gal has always paired vintage pieces with modern styling. Anyone who’s spent some time in thrift stores understands that part of wearing vintage is to know that you can’t always expect it to come right off the rack looking perfect. You must be able to see past that sad sack dress on a plastic hanger with a price tag stapled to it and imagine the myriad things you can do with it. I’ve belted muumuus, hacked hems, and rolled sleeves on the regs, and learned that sometimes the perfect oversized sweater or shrunken jacket is only as far away as the men’s aisle or children’s section. On eBay I sold a lot of children’s coats because, when they were styled right, they looked like the perfect cropped jacket. One of my own favorite pieces of vintage is a light pink child’s peacoat that looks straight off a Marc Jacobs runway. Eventually, I got to a point where I’d dressed so many models that I could look at something on a hanger and know exactly how it would fit on a girl. I could even look at a model and know what her measurements were and all of this helped make me a good buyer because it helped Nasty Gal avoid stocking stuff that was cute in theory but awkward when you put it on.

  Despite the fact that I’m wearing YSL platforms as I write this, I have always believed that it shouldn’t cost a lot of money to look good. When Christina and I started buying new brands, we experimented with some more expensive offerings, and $300 dresses simply didn’t sell. Our customer works hard for her money, so it goes without saying that she’s going to be careful with how she spends it. That also highlights the difference between fashion and style: You can have a ton of money and buy yourself all the designer goods you can stuff into the trunk of your Mercedes-Benz, but no amount of money can buy you style. Having good style takes thought, creativity, confidence, self-awareness, even sometimes a little bit of work. And there you have it, folks: A little bit of skin + attention to silhouette + an attitude + a vintage piece or two + a decent price tag = Hello, Nasty Gal.

  It’s Not Hot. It’s Not Cold. It’s Cool.

  I like to say that Nasty Gal is dressing girls for the best years of their lives whether a girl is eighteen, twenty-five, thirty-five, or sixty. At a recent meeting, when several of us were locked away in a war room, strategizing for the future, someone asked an assistant if it would be difficult for her to relate to me if I were older. “No,” she replied, “Sophia’s a badass bitch and she’ll always be a badass bitch!” That I’ve managed to build a company where an assistant feels comfortable calling the CEO a badass bitch in a room full of senior executives is pretty amazing.

  The heartbeat of Nasty Gal doesn’t exist in one style, trend, or article of clothing. It’s in the way we talk, the way we carry ourselves, and the way we see the world. If you scroll through Nasty Gal photos from the early days, this is obvious: The styles have changed, but the attitude is the same. The Nasty Gal look has always been that hard-to-nail-down, you-know-it-when-you-see-it quality; the ultimate babe who’s one-third girl-next-door, one-third genius, and one-third party monster. She’s cool. It’s this combination that has made casting models especially challenging for us—it’s not enough that a girl is tall, gorgeous, and fits the clothing—she has to be cool on top of it.

  My definition of what’s cool may be a rare one. It’s not about being popular, or waking up with a pizza spinning on the turntable like an ’80s teen movie. Being mean won’t make you cool, being rich won’t make you cool, and having the right clothes, while it may help, won’t make you cool. It’s cool to be kind. It’s cool to be weird. It’s cool to be honest and to be secure with yourself. Cool is the girl at a party who strikes up a conversation with you when she notices you don’t seem to know many people there. It’s that vibe that I always wanted Nasty Gal models to have. I want our customer to look at Nasty Gal and see someone who could be her friend modeling the clothes. Or even better, I want her to project herself into the lifestyle and attitude, soaking it up to add to her arsenal of amazing qualities of which having great clothes is only one small part.

  Own Your Style

  The last thing I’d ever subscribe to are fashion rules. However, I do think that you should put effort into what you wear. Clothing is ultimately the suit of armor in which we battle the world. When you choose your clothin
g right, it feels good. And there’s nothing shallow about feeling good. Owning your style, however, is much more about your attitude than it is about what’s on your back. But don’t underestimate the transformational possibilities that getting dressed can afford you.

  While I have the freedom to wear whatever I want at work, I dress the part. In fact, everyone at Nasty Gal does. When I’m confident in what I am wearing, it makes me feel more confident throughout the day. Granted, I could probably negotiate a deal in my pajamas, but I’m a lot more dangerous in a pair of leather pants and boots that could hurt a fool.

  Some girls can pull off a trend as though they just rolled out of bed, grabbed the first thing they saw, and skipped out the door without even giving the mirror a sideways glance. When I try to wear too much of a trend, I end up looking the opposite—like I spent way too much time in front of the mirror. It’s important to know which trends are for you and which ones you should watch walk down the runway and right on by.

  We’ve all seen girls who constantly tug at the hem of their dress, readjust straps, and mess with their hair. If you’re not confident, no dress, no matter how smoking-hot it is, will solve that problem for you. If I see you in a club hobbling like an injured baby colt, I want to push you over. I will push you over. And, if I can push you over, you’re not owning anything; and that’s what I want you to do, #GIRLBOSS: Own your style like you own your used car. This means wearing what you like and what makes you feel good. And it means getting dressed for yourself—not your boyfriend, not your friends, not your parents. Here’s one thing the fashion industry probably won’t tell you: Confidence is more attractive than anything you could put on your body.

  And that brings me to my other point: Owning your style sometimes takes effort, and it’s okay to expend effort on how you look. For a long time women wore only dresses and spent hours on their hair because that is what society mandated. But now we don’t have to do it—we get to do it. Being a girl is fun. We can experiment with our look as much as we want. I remember being a little girl and watching with fascination as my mom used an eyelash curler. The key is making sure you’re doing what you want, not doing things because your boyfriend can’t stand to look at you without any makeup on. If every other girl you know is wearing a push-up bra and you do not want to wear a push-up bra, then by all means, do not wear one. But they’re there if you need ’em.

  There are certain common themes that I hear when I talk to Nasty Gal customers all over the world. “I was the only girl who didn’t shop at the mall,” a lot of them say. “My town was so boring that just putting effort into my look was seen as crazy.” And to that, I always say, “Hell yes.” Putting in effort is exactly what you should be doing. You should get dressed for your life. I don’t care if the only place you have to go is the post office: Get dressed, #GIRLBOSS, and let your freak flag fly.

  PORTRAIT OF A #GIRLBOSS:

  Ashley Glorioso, Senior Stylist at Nasty Gal

  When I was younger, I hated being in school. I hated everything about it, so I knew that whatever I did wasn’t going to involve any extra schooling past high school—I couldn’t get out of that place fast enough. I thought I was going to work with animals, but then realized I was too emotionally attached to them, so needed to work with something that couldn’t get hurt or die. Clothes. Perfect!

  I’ve been pedal to the medal ever since and I have no intention of stopping! I started working retail in high school to earn some cash of my own, and I realized that there was so much to the retail world. I worked for small boutiques at first, and for pennies, but learned so much about the industry that it made my time there priceless. I worked at a small store in Westlake Village, California; I was only sixteen but running the store. I was comfortable being in charge at such a young age. Baby boss lady!

  I learned about everything from merchandising to receiving, and even made sure I learned about stuff that I wasn’t even interested in. I felt as if the more I learned about retail, the more options I would have later on. I think it’s good to have more than one skill set in the fashion industry. A lot of companies require you to wear many different hats, so the more experience you can gain, the better!

  I started styling for fun on a friend’s lookbook shoot when I was eighteen, and thought, Wait, I like this! And I’m decent at it! I was shocked people did this for work. That was when I started to pay way more attention to what was going on in fashion—delving into every season of shows and every magazine I could get my hands on. I studied the makeup artists, the hairstylists, the photographers, the clothing stylists . . . I learned how everyone had a different eye, and how it was all art.

  I think fashion is the ever-undulating industry, and style is something that a person has inherently without really trying. I went through so many weird phases throughout my life. I was never a great vintage shopper, but now I am well versed in the magic of a good tailor, so I don’t hesitate to buy vintage because I know that I can rework that baby into utter perfection. Nowadays my style is all over the place and I try not to fit into any one category. Some days I feel very gypsy and wear a long skirt with a weird top, a long vest, a furry vest over that, and 2,056 necklaces and rings. Other days I wear my boyfriend’s ripped T-shirt and some huge jeans and do not give two fucks. Sometimes I wear a frilly dress with socks and Mary Janes, and other times a suit. So be it. I like to keep people guessing. Hell, keep me guessing!

  Above anything, I think clothes should make you feel good about yourself! I can’t imagine anything worse than a girl trying to fit into a certain trend and then feeling uncomfortable with what she’s wearing. What’s the point!? Who cares if everyone is wearing boyfriend jeans? If you feel like a chunky dude with poopy pants, take them off! You should walk out of the house and be thinking, Damn, I look good.

  I’m super lucky that I can do what I love every day, so that keeps my creative juices flowin’ like wine. I also keep myself busy with freelance projects on the weekends so I never feel as if I’m not creating something. Sometimes I need a creative break, so I lie on my couch for hours at a time watching Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. This usually happens after I have styling dreams where I keep saying “cute” over and over again.

  I never assisted anyone; I just gave it my all. I always networked with anyone whom I met in the industry, I believed that I could do it, and people believed me. Get your hustle on. My uncle always instilled the importance of work ethic in me from a young age. I asked for things and he always said, “If you want something, you have to earnnnnn it!” I thought it was the most annoying statement ever. Yet the older I got, the more I realized I could get a job, make my own money, and not have to ask for things. So I did. And it was so satisfying!

  Obviously, the older I got, it wasn’t just about buying things, but not wanting to be the girl living paycheck to paycheck, as in, “Can I pay my rent this month?” I wanted to live comfortably and not be stressed about finances. I also wanted to be able to do nice things for my family. I knew that they appreciated even the small things, like my being able to pick up the tab at dinner. The more I accomplish in life, the more I realize that I am not a complete and utter failure, and I’m actually proud of myself! I had no idea what I wanted to do out of high school, so to be where I am now . . . that’s somethin’.

  11

  The Chances

  Dreams are today’s answers to tomorrow’s questions.

  —Edgar Cayce

  What are the chances?

  That’s a good question.

  More than a half-million new businesses are started per month in the United States alone, but 80 percent of them will fail within the first year and a half. So what are the chances that mine would still be alive and thriving seven years later? You could do some calculations, plot some graphs, and determine the exact probability, but I think we all agree by now that that’s not my jam! The answer, no matter how you spin it, is that the chances were that of
a snowball in hell.

  I have a tattoo that reads “1%.” It’s something I got years ago with Gary when he was already my ex, but it was our humorous homage to the ideals of the one-percenters. In the wake of a bunch of bad press, the American Motorcyclist Association once claimed that 99 percent of its members were regular citizens and only 1 percent were outlaws. The gnarliest of the gnarly outlaw bikers latched on to that, calling themselves one-percenters. While we weren’t outlaws, Gary and I identified with their ethos that when you are a one-percenter, you live your life your way. Currently, the popular meaning of the so-called 1 percent refers to Wall Street, and that ethos is completely different. This idiomatic shift has become especially ironic for me, but the tattoo hasn’t lost any of its significance. It’s a reminder of how unlikely it was that I’d ever find myself seated in the corner office.

  In a 2011 TED Talk in San Francisco, author and speaker Mel Robbins talked about how the chances that you are you are about 1 in 400 trillion. (Yes, that’s a four hundred followed by twelve zeros.) This takes into account the chance of your parents meeting out of all the people on the planet, the chance of them reproducing, the chance of you being born at the exact moment that you were, and every other wildly improbable factor that goes into each individual person. The whole point of her crazy calculation was that we should take the sheer improbability of our own existence as a kick in the butt to get out of bed in the morning. If you hear this fact as discouraging—that you’re only one in billions—then flip the script. You are one in billions! Someone has to succeed, so it might as well be you.