The poetry of fashion with Olivia Joffrey
On changing your style, designing through grief, and shifting vanity from your looks to your work
On Sundays, Olivia Joffrey works in her artist studio downtown.
“Here, I feel more professional,” she said over the phone one Sunday. “The laundry doesn’t beckon, or any other chores that might distract me from my process. I come in, put on my apron, and sit at my desk and create.”
Olivia runs a boutique creative agency offering illustration and copywriting (with a distinct creative heartbeat, I might add). Though, you probably already know that. She’s created work for local businesses like Mother Dough Bagels and The Eddy, as well as international brands and entrepreneurs. In her past lives, she studied city design, worked in architecture, and even designed her own line of caftans — inspired by her late mother.
“I didn’t know very much about my artistic self for so long. It really emerged later, after having kids,” she said. “I’ve had other business that were creative, but this is my first time confidently saying, ‘I’m an illustrator and a writer.’”
Fresh off of her feature in Santa Barbara Magazine (she also illustrated the cover and main spread of the issue), Olivia shares with Picnic what’s been piquing her interest, how her personal style has changed over the years, and how she views fashion and writing as deeply connected.
The heartbeat of her creations
I love playing with words. That’s kind of what my mind likes to do. I love to stay up late at night and try to make myself laugh by writing little jokes, even if no one else gets it. It’s still work to make myself laugh, but it’s such a pleasure.
With my work, I like that intersection of humor, elegance, and curiosity. The person who embodies that, to me, is Dick Cavett. He’s this totally erudite kind of guy who could extract the best out of people, but also had a certain elegance that I aspire to. He was always very human, very warm, and actually very literary. He could be interviewing Liza Minnelli, while also quoting Hemingway — and maybe he’d even smoke a joint with her after!
That kind of smart, party person is my favorite type of person.
I also write and illustrate a Substack called Beachtown Bohemia. It was actually a book I was working on for a while, but I wasn’t sure if a book was the right format for it. I thought it would be better as small vignettes that are more digestible, and not necessarily sequential. It’s a sketchbook and collection of writings about the coastal California that I belong to.
There’s so much similarity between Santa Cruz — where I grew up — and Santa Barbara. There’s certainly a beach culture here, but the university and colleges in town give Santa Barbara a whole different flavor.
It’s not every beach town where you can you go hear Yo-Yo Ma on a Thursday night because it’s at UCSB Arts and Lectures. We live in a sophisticated, culturally-rich place.
Inspired from the outside-in
I live over on the Riviera, about a half hour walk or a 5 minute drive from my studio downtown. Every day, if I’m not schlepping a bunch of stuff with me, I’ll just walk to work. I always find something new to admire along the way.
I have a obsession with the Spiritualist Church on Garden Street. It’s such an interesting little building, so beautiful. I’m so glad it hasn’t been torn down. It reminds me of the artist Hilma af Klint, who I love. Her work is fabulous. I know that she was doing some of that spiritualist work at the time she was painting, and you can see it in some of her pieces. Things like that pique my interest.
A fashion line as a portal
For about 10 years, after I had my third child, I started an eponymous caftan line inspired by my mom, who was an expat in Spain in the ‘70s. She had this wardrobe full of caftans. I grew up thinking she was so pretty and effortless, in a California kind of way.
She had advanced Alzheimer’s around the time I started the line, and I was missing her so much.
Building the collection was my portal to connect with her. I got really immersed in the meaning of clothes.
It was all part of the grieving process, honestly. The way I dealt with missing her was to design and wear clothes that she used to wear. The brand ran its course. And when she passed away last November, I realized it was my crutch to get through the crisis.
The brand was a beautiful tribute to her, but by the end of it I was ready to do something empowered and different.
But I still love clothes, and I grew up with a real reverence for clothes from my mom. She was a New Yorker, so she had this wardrobe of ridiculous things from her glamorous life before she moved to California — things like evening wear and beautiful jewelry and little slippers you'd wear to the opera.
She had this little dress up trunk for me growing up and it was full of her nightgowns and little bed jackets from the ‘70s, and me and my friends would dress up in them. Of course I was wearing OP shorts to school, but I knew there was this more sophisticated side of fashion that was always intriguing.
Style shifts
If I was still in my 20s or early 30s, I would totally be rocking Simone Rocha. She’s that mix of super feminine with such an edge — she so nails the modern woman. You could be a cutthroat lawyer in one of her dresses and it wouldn’t even be a contradiction.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become much more of a minimalist. I have one pair of boots — my dressy Cèline boots — that I bought at ikram in Chicago in 2012. I got them resoled and they’re still going strong.
They were expensive, but they’re my favorite accessory. If you buy something you’re in love with and it fits you and looks good with all your stuff, then I’m all for that. Even now — I look at other boots and feel like I’m practically married to my Cèlines. I love them too much. I’m not gonna cheat on them.
I also have this little corduroy jacket by Studio Nicholson, out of London, that I love. I will wear until it’s worn all the way through. Their stuff is so original and timeless. And I loooove Mara Hoffman. I have an amazing pale-pink sheer tunic by her, with slits on the side. It’s so dreamy. That piece always makes me feel ethereal.
These days, I sort of have a uniform. To the studio, I usually wear a long sleeve t-shirt, trousers or jeans, a blazer (or that Studio Nicholson jacket) and boots or Vans. In summer, I wear a lot of knee-length dresses and espadrilles.
I don’t really wear much jewelry — I take everything off when I’m painting — but I do have two power rings that I love. One is a circle ring from Daniel Gibbings on Coast Village Road, and the other one is a big lapis ring that was my mother’s. I had it reset and it’s the same shape as the other ring I wear. They’re like sisters.
I’m in a more powerful place in my life now. I’m turning 50 this month and I feel like I’m turning some strange corner. I’m leaving behind my ingénue self, which was how I dressed up until my 30s. It’s interesting.
My vanity is no longer about my body; my vanity is about my mind and my work.
Now, I’m more proud when I put out a great piece of work than I am about a picture of myself.
The creative loop between fashion and writing
A really well-constructed sentence is almost like a beautiful piece of clothing. You study its seams and how it comes together, if it has perfect punctuation and is stripped down — instead of a heaving mess of adjectives with too many ruffles.
I have a girlfriend here in town who’s a writer, too, and I love seeing what she wears. It’s all beautifully made. She has her own voice in her writing and in her wardrobe. She pays attention to the nuances, in the different fabrics and the stitching. She dresses kind of the way I like to write.
I’m at the point in my life where adornment is not as crucial as the construction of something — whether it’s the construction of a beautiful sentence or a beautiful jacket.
Articles of clothing are little architectural gems if they’re done right — the kind you wanna turn inside-out to admire the details.
Absolutely love this. Wow. Feels so iconic and at the same time so classic. I love the part about staying up late and writing and making yourself laugh. I feel that. Congrats on such an inspiring life you have created for yourself!
I feel so seen! Thank you Cami for this interview and your beautiful words. I love Picnic and so grateful to have Jake and Jones in my work hood for a dose of urbane chic.