2.18.2011

Laura McMillian makes the perfect (rebellious) housewife

Name: Laura McMillian
Age: 30
Hometown: Hunstville, AL
Job description: Costume designer, performance artist
Bio: Drag persona behind Tamale Truck at Rubulad and Hot F@!*kn’ S’more Shack at the Swimming Cities' Great Indoors fundraiser; designed narwhal costumes for the Snow Migration performance piece; designed commercial costumes like the H&R Block Money Suit; fashion assistant at Love Brigade; studied fashion sketching and patternmaking at Parsons The New School for Design
Upcoming projects: Working on a protest, burlesque piece for Mardi Gras that lights up, and can be performed in the dark (“I hope to remake the narwhal [costumes from the Snow Migration project] in a translucent fabric, and have them lit from the inside and have sexy lady legs coming out of the bottom. Then I want to have this troop of Victorian girls leading them along.”); designing costumes for the performance artist Narcissister
Select links: huntingplaid.com


How did you get into costume design?

I went to school for photography, graduated [from the University of Montevallo].

The last two semesters I was in college, I handpicked this group of nine different artists, people that made clothes.

In the first semester, I just did it for the hell of it. And it turned out really well. My professors all asked that I do it again. And I said that I could, but I would have to get a credit for it.

So I did that and I moved to New York from Alabama to do fashion design.

I did a portfolio and interviewed for F.I.T., [but] I didn't make it. I felt like the attitude that I got, and what was said in the interview, was that my taste level was too low.

I can make really beautiful clothes. But everything I make is always costume-y. It always tends to go a bit over the edge of what people would feel comfortable wearing in everyday life.

I lived in an apartment in Bushwick with a production assistant who kept hassling stylists to hire me because I had all clothes that I had made in my apartment.

One of them hired me and she recommended me to other people. It was something that I just fell into really naturally.

I did work for a fashion company for a while in Williamsburg. I enjoyed it a lot. I oversaw production. I was good at it. But costume seemed to make the most sense. [It’s what I] feel like I'm most talented at.

What influences the clothes that you make?


But most of all, my travels, and in particular the California brand of psychedelia. And working parties.

I feel like a lot of things that I make are influenced by a lot of my friends [on the West Coast]. Of course all the people here in New York that I'm really lucky to know.

I make a wide range of stuff. I feel like it has a lot of carnival celebration.

But for the work that I make myself, I really like to play around with the line between grotesque and attractive.

I forgot to mention my mom. My mom’s a major inspiration because she’s a P.E. teacher. All through my childhood, she had a hundred track suits. She always wore fancy and shabby ones. To my graduating show in college, she wore a tracksuit. And she always had these turtlenecks that went under them, that were arranged several in each color by color, in a closet.

I think this strange attention to detail, and everything matching certain tracksuit, influenced me in making clothes.

There are so many things that influence me, mainly a lot of color and fantasy.

I know one of the things that got me in trouble in that interview was referencing Heatherette. It was one of the first big shows that I snuck into at Fashion Week and I was so impressed when I saw it, because they sent Naomi Campbell down the runway in this dress that was feathers and sequins, attached with a glue gun. 
The whole joke is the community that you're making this for. It's this big joke on high society and the snobbery that's involved with fashion. 


All photos by Tod Seelie

Where have you traveled?

The first place I ever went by myself was San Francisco. I spent a lot of time between the Bay Area and New York. I've lived in New Orleans. I've traveled to Berlin, Paris, and Amsterdam. I've ridden the bus across the United States a few times.

What was that like?

The first time I ever did the bus, I went with my friend, Andy, who’s probably one of my oldest friends. I told him “I'm going to go to California for the summer. I'm going to ride a bus across the United States.”

He's like "Ok, sounds good. I'll protect you." Because he has a knife.

It was college and I was reading a lot of Kerouac. And Kerouac packs his sandwiches a foot high. So I went with my stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Andy had all of these cans of potatoes.

We got to about Arizona where both of us couldn’t take our food stores anymore. I remember sitting there in the sun, in this Greyhound station, being like, "Do you want to trade, maybe?" That's probably the only time I've ever eaten a can of potatoes. It was so good. Oh my God.

Traveling by bus across the United States is hard. It's three days long. And Texas is two of that three days. The Greyhound stories could go on and on.

You meet all kinds of crazy people. The tattoo artist that had the girlfriend who looked like Bjork (that really did look like Bjork). The alcoholic who had withdrawal two days into the trip and then started freaking out, smoking in the bus. They arrested him two hours outside of Berkeley.

Later that night, me and my friend were walking around. We're young and walking around the neighborhood drinking whiskey. I was sure the cops started circling us, trying to get us walking around with an open container. And at one point during our walk, I looked across the street and the guy, who had gotten arrested off my bus earlier in the day, is walking around the neighborhood and the cops are trying to catch him.

He had gotten arrested, gone to jail, gotten out, and was in the same neighborhood as me. Ten to 12 hours later, the police are looking for him. Weird stuff like that.

Usually people who want to tell you lots of things. There was the one time I traveled from here to Alabama beside this guy that I guess was running away from the law for identity theft.

Something about my face makes people want to tell me things that I shouldn't know. I stayed up all night watching the guy. I was so completely terrified. I knew I had my social security card in my wallet. I've won the lottery of bad people to sit [next to on the bus.]

What kinds of things have people told you?

I can't tell you!

Even if you don't mention names?

Then no one will ever tell me any of that stuff again.

What's the best and worst thing about dressing people?

I really appreciate it when people know what they want when they're hiring me.

I think the best thing is when everything works right and looks better than you wanted it to; it’s really magical. As someone who's worked commercials a lot, I'm the girl they kind of stick in the corner (“Ugh, that severe costume designer, don't talk to her. Just give her that stuff.”)

Once [the client] puts you on set and you're there to baby-sit a costume, you know you made something important.

There have also been a few moments on commercials where my costume was the main focal point of that commercial. It's the thing that makes it pop, and makes it special. That feeling is really amazing knowing that, out of everyone, this huge team of talented, creative people, you're the one that they [chose].

I think the worst thing is dressing people who are pregnant, and don't tell you; it's so awful.

I feel like, even when things go wrong, I feel so  lucky to do what I do. It's all I've ever done my entire life. I'm completely obsessed with it. I just left my sewing machine for a week, which is the longest that I've left it.

What kind of sewing machine do you have?

I have a Husqvarna. Which I really like because they only make chainsaws and sewing machines.

That was the cheapest. It's a seven or eight-year-old sewing machine. When I went to get it, I asked them to get me the one that I'd be least likely to break.

I had told them that I had broken a lot of them, so please give me one that didn't break, easily.

Where did you get it?

I bought it in Alabama when I was doing the fashion shows.  For a long time, I was using a borrowed machine. For years, I  would borrow machines, or sneak my mom's machine.

How does one break a sewing machine?

I don't know. I haven't broken one in a long time because I've had that good one.

When I was a kid, I would always get accused of breaking my mom's sewing machine, and she wouldn't let me use it. So I just assumed that I would break it.

Tell me about the materials that you’ve worked with.

I have a really hard time using synthetics. Growing up in Alabama, I really like natural fibers. Cottons, fur, feathers, and, of course, a lot of glitter - which is not natural at all. I try to use a lot of found materials. Even though I use bright, unnatural colors, I'm really obsessed with using natural fabrics. They just feel better.

What were you like as a kid, growing up in Alabama?

I've always been the way that I am. I've always made things. I've sewn since I was nine.
 
I always dressed different from everyone. I was always perceived as a weird kid, and it was really lonely.

I didn't have any friends until I left and went to college. I went to a school that was the only liberal arts school in Alabama. So all the freaks were there. And it was such an amazing thing for me at 18, for the first time in my life, to have friends. Lots of people valued the types of things that I did, and the way I acted and dressed wasn't wrong.

I feel that way everyday. But it's still so mind-blowing to me, [after] all these years, that there's all these other people here that are just like me; I'm not alone.

I always felt like, being there, there was always somewhere else that was better. And I didn't know what it exactly was, but I knew that there had to be something better than that.

There are creative, intelligent, and beautiful people there.

I grew up between Huntsville, AL.

So everyone's parents were rocket scientists [or] they worked for the military. My mom’s a teacher and my dad designs rockets. It was cool because there are people from all over the world there. It's a very strange city. There's a strip mall. Everything blew up in the 50s and 60s, and it's all kind of in that vain.

You moved from New York to Oakland. How long had you lived in New York?


In September [2011], it will be six years.

Tell me about Oakland. When did you move there?


I left at the end of July [2010], and took a long road trip. I went to New Orleans and to LA for a while. Then I went to Oakland and I lived there for three months. Then I came [to NYC] on Nov. 9, which was my 30th birthday. I came because everyone said that there's a Saturn return thing. And when you turn 30, whatever you are then is what you're going to be forever.

So I was like, “I want to be bi-coastal.” I celebrated my birthday on both sides.

I quit smoking right before.

Congratulations on that.


I was a real bitch for a few months. But it was so bad that it makes not want to start again, in case my mom reads [this interview].

How did you quit?

When I left New York to move to Oakland, I went to New Orleans. I went to a bounce show. I was smoking and wearing this skirt that I had made out of this faux leather. I burnt a huge hole in my skirt and I was so upset. I was like “That’s it!”. And I quit because it ruined by clothes.

[Living in Oakland] is something that I'm trying to work out, now. I went there because I promised myself that I would live there by the time I was 30. And California will always be a big part of me, but [New York] is the only place that I can't escape from. My family, friends, the people I make art with, are here. A big part of my spirit is here, just the way that the city never stops.

There was this moment where, for a lot of us that work at Rubulad, it was a weird time. I went out with a few people from there. We went to see Japanther. The show ended in a riot; there was this fight between security and the audience. It was this feeling of “Oh my God. No matter what we do, we can't make it right.” It was the third day of the year. Still, everything just kept messing up, you know?

I was still really happy being with these people I really love. Also, there are just so many things that are available, and happen here, that I couldn't possibly find anywhere else.

It’s okay that I had that dream to go and move there. And I know that I can do that if I wanted it. But it's also okay to say, “Maybe that's not appropriate and is something that sounded good years ago.”

That’s a long explanation.

How would you describe the Bay Area and Oakland to someone who's never been there?

I feel very alone there. But it's an amazing place to create. There’s a lot of quiet, a lot of room to think.

It's really beautiful. The thing that really gets me is how tall the mountains are. I grew up in the flint hills of the Smoky Mountains.

The dress is more colorful. It's weird. The seasons never happen there. It feels the same way it did ten years ago, the way it smells, to me.

The people there are different, too. I think that they dream in a way that that’s unfettered than a lot of people here. They remind to not shoot down fantastical ideas. It’s a good place to [find] balance, for me, at least.

What are your thoughts on loneliness?

I don't get lonely a lot because there's always someone I can talk to anywhere. I think it's harder for me to find time to be alone.

What’s your philosophy on love?

You ended up asking me a question about love and I even prepared myself to answer a question on love, not thinking I would get asked this one.

I've been thinking a lot about it, lately. I've had a lot of really intense relationships in the past few years. A few months ago, I was watching the San Francisco premiere of Flood Tide, about the Swimming Cities trip down the Hudson. And Dark Dark Dark was playing.

I went on that trip with my first, real love. That was the first serious relationship that I ever had, and one that was very dramatic. We went to Europe to break up, eventually ending the relationship in Paris.

The visuals [of the film] and that really haunting music has carried me through the past few years.

Until I met all these people and went on that trip, I really cut myself short in allowing myself to dream, and make those things possible. When I watched that [film], I remember that trip and relationship, the intense, transformative power of love dawns on me.

Love is something that I’ve been so cynical about my whole life, but because of that relationship there’s no denying what it brought to me. That trip and the person have given me what I have now: endless inspiration; travel opportunities; friendships; and beautiful things that I never thought possible.

They inspire me for the moments that I look back on, and I’m really glad to be alive; I’m forever grateful for it.

By nature, are you tightwad or a spender?

I’m a Scorpio, so it goes back and forth.

I know how to budget well, but when it comes to things that I make, I will figure out a way to get around. That, for me, is always priority. While trying to reuse or utilize Materials for the Arts, if I’m going to make something, I want to have the good materials; the way it looks makes a difference. It’s not worth sewing if it’s not done right.

It’s important to me to not skimp on things.

Given that your style is “over the top”, have you ever seen something that was both over the top and unflattering?

Someone will come up to me in the store and say, “Oh, do you think is too much?” Or a friend will ask me. I don’t know why people ask me that. It happens to me a lot.

There’s a way to judge. If I think of something, I’ll tell you. But off the top of my head, no, absolutely not. I love excess!


What inspired your tamale truck and rickshaw?

I was at a Bushwick Boat Party right when the whole Swimming Cities Ocean of Blood idea was forming. One of our first fundraisers was selling tamales on the boat. I made a bet that I could walk around screaming "Hot Fuckin' Tamales" and dress slutty and sell more tamales faster. It worked! A month later I started doing it at Rubulad dressed in drag and that's how it all started.

Tell me about your performance art.

I’ve always been interested in performance art. People have always told me it’s something I should do. It’s a great way to show off a costume.

The way that I try to stop being shy is to do the drag queen, tamale thing.

I did a collaboration with Narcissister, the artist that I’m working with, right now. It was an variation on the tamales theme and an elaboration on it. Which is something that I’d like to do more of.

[The space] was a small room that had Mexican blankets on the walls. I was cooking on the floor. There were all these crates in the doorway that had holes broken into them. And you had to put your hand through broken shards and wood to pay for your tacos.

I had the Narcissister mask on, this halter with this bikini top, a little skirt with an apron on, and nothing on my ass. So when I bent over to cook, I was hanging out. And every few customers or so I would motion to the person looking through the window and then flash them. It was amazing because I did really well that night, as far as money went. But it was so disgusting because I was basically naked, cooking tacos and flashing this fabric taco to the audience. And there’s all this fake cheese falling into –

It was horrible. But I would like to elaborate on that. [laughs]

As a Southern woman, I was taught all the skills to be a really good homemaker. I would be a fantastic wife, except that I have a horrible attitude. And I know, because I’ve tried to be a housewife.

I like all these skills that I’ve been taught: cooking; cleaning; and sewing; and all these things that I’m really spectacular at, that would maybe make me a great wife, but would make me an even better performance artist.

The goal is to use all of these domestic skills to create a performance that re-imagines what a proper woman should be, and how these skills - that would make you a really good housewife - can also be subversive.

What do you mean by a bad attitude?

A few years ago, I moved to Alabama to go live with somebody. The day I moved in there was all these love notes all over the apartment, and this bottle of wine waiting for me.

My first day as a housewife was very stereotypical, 1950s: I drink wine all afternoon; I clean the house; I have dinner ready by the time my boyfriend, at the time, got back.

It lasted for about three months before I was just so bored.

I lived in Alabama across from all these noise musicians in this big, noise musician house. Every once in a while, I look across the street and think about how I was in the wrong house. From a very young age, I used the skills that my mom taught me to be a wife, to kind of rebel.

Even sewing. I grew up in a very conservative, Christian family. We would go shopping, and I would want a halter-top up to here [raises palm to mid-torso] and I wouldn’t be allowed to buy it. So I would go right home and make it. I did that when I was 9 or 10. My mom wouldn’t let me buy it, so I went home and made it. and she was furious.

What is something that people don’t know about you?

I’m a loud mouth.

Let me think.

People think that they know everything about me because I’m so open. But I think that that’s really a good way of keeping the things that I want to keep private. Because I’m very open with things that people usually hide, [people think that] I don’t have secrets. And that’s absolutely not true. Everyone needs privacy.

I don’t like ice cream.

You don’t?

You know what? I’ve never seen Star Wars. I have this philosophy that I should try everything in life, once, except for Star Wars. I don't dislike Star Wars, in particular. I just feel that it's a big, cultural marker and pop icon that lots of people relate to in a fanatical way. I don't like the fanaticism that is attached to Star Wars, so I choose not to participate.

I have seen a lot of movies because I wasn’t allowed to. I didn’t grow up exposed to a lot of media.

My parents are older than a lot of parents. So I didn’t grow up with the same pop culture, which is probably why I’m obsessed with pop culture now.

Even though I am a very liberal person, I do have a lot of traditional values that I cannot shake off, [like] male and female roles. My mom told me that if a guy didn’t open the door for me, to not go on a second date. While I believe in equality, and would love to split the bill, there are certain things that I feel like I should do.

Even though I will tell you the most personal thing that you don’t even want to hear, I’m never going to make a first move.

Which is why I hang out by myself a lot.
 

What qualities do you admire most and least in people?

Self-motivation to create in any way. I admire self-motivators that try to inspire somebody else.

And least?

Someone's who's afraid to dance; that's no good.

Are you a good dancer?

Yes, I'm a good dancer!

I had to ask that.

I'm the best dancer. Ask anybody.

Do you p-pop?

Yeah, can I brag a little bit?

Go ahead!

So Altercation, one of Big Freedia’s back up dancers, came to town and taught a p-popping class in the summer.

I got this message on my phone from her that made me so proud. It said “Hey, Laura This is Altercation. I just want to let you know that there’s a class tonight in this location. I know you probably don’t need it but…”

That, to me, was a huge compliment. Southern people dance a lot dirtier than people in other parts of the country. When you live somewhere where there’s a lot of sexual repression, and women are discouraged from expressing themselves, sexually, it has to manifest itself, in some way. And it manifests itself in dancing, in a big way. I grew up in that kind of culture. I was in the church where they were giving this sermon about how dancing is sinful.

Which is why when you watch the style of dancing from New Orleans, it’s very sexual and empowering for women.

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