LETTER
06
ROAD Asher Moss
08
LIFE Ruthie Lindsey
20
DIRT Alexandra Valenti
28
HERITAGE Christian Watson, 1924 us
40
STYLE Stephanie Beard, Ebsy
52
Kortney Hastin, Norman Russell
68
MADE William Bryan Purcell, Witness Co
82
SPACE Caleb Owen Everitt & Ryan Rhodes, Land 96 SHOP Old North Company
112
PUBLISHER / CREATIVE DIRECTOR Chris Brown SENIOR PHOTOGRAPHER Gustav Schmiege CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Asher Moss, Ruthie Lindsey, Christian Watson, Greg Houser CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Asher Moss, Sionnie Lafollette, Alexandra Valenti, Christian Watson, Betsy Seymour
Š 2014 Refueled Magazine. All Rights Reserved. Any commercial or promotional distribution, publishing or exploitation of contents, is strictly prohibited unless you have received the express prior written permission from our authorized personnel or the otherwise applicable rights holder.
REFUELEDMAGAZINE.COM
I published my first magazine when I was eight years old. It was called Tejas. I drew all the covers, created ads and wrote articles about folks I knew. I took those eight and a half sheets of typing paper and stapled them down the sides and sold them to kids in the neighborhood for ten cents. After a while, other kids started their own magazines. We became this small community of indie publishers. My mother was the assistant to the editor-in-chief of our town’s newspaper, the Beaumont Enterprise, before marrying my father. She told me stories of the editorial offices, developing negatives and taking short hand. Maybe it's in my blood. I have always been drawn to magazines. LIFE, MAD and Rolling Stone were the editorial bibles of my childhood while growing up in the sixties. LIFE magazine's large format, full page/full bleed photographs and clean layouts really spoke to my artistic sense. MAD brought out the rebel in me, while Rolling Stone fueled my knowledge of music and adventure. While in high school I discovered Jack Kerouac. His books like “On the Road”, “Big Sur” and “The Dharma Bums” influnced me when creating Refuled. Kerouac’s work reminds me to write what you know, keep journals and sketches of ideas, adventures and characters you meet. Jack had Cassady, Ginsberg and Burroughs. I have the folks you’ll find in these pages.
Chris Brown, Publisher
I wanted to move towards minimalism. The less I had to carry, the more I could find out there. Not in material things of course, but in the people and circumstances that I would find myself in. The mission of this trip was to complete a coffee table book featuring women in the morning waking up without any make up or clothes on. But what it turned into was so much more. My journey began in Austin, Texas (home of the best breakfast tacos on the planet). I made it through 10 major cities, photographed 62 girls and took approximately 55,000 photos of landscapes and portraiture. I wanted to shoot film photography exclusively. However, due to the collapse of the industry and the rise of the digital age in the late 90’s the prices have become so astronomical and I couldn’t afford to do so. Had I been shooting film I would have spent $1.1 million dollars. So, I brought along a digital camera to save a few (million) bucks. After getting utterly stuck in west Texas near Marfa due to car troubles, I spent the better part of two weeks admiring the mountainsides, avoiding the Javelina and associating myself with the many government officials who roamed those tiny mountain towns. I met a man who was in hiding from the U.S. Government, found a hidden human graveyard in the middle of the desert, and walked more miles than I’ve walked my entire life. Great mysteries live in that desert. Though its history points to a tremendous amount of blood and destruction, I felt incredibly connected to the land. The natives: the white man, the Spaniards had all fought for this absolutely stunning landscape. I get it, I would have fought too had I been around back then. But there I was, only a few weeks into the trip motionless and full of inspiration. I had to keep reminding myself this was all part of the story. After several days it hit me, I was suppose to be here. Buried in my mind, slowing down my body and moving at a pace that many of us only dream of moving. That’s when I realized that my connection with the wilderness had returned. I spent the better part of my younger years hiking some of the country's biggest trails, camping, fishing and hunting wild game. There was an innate desire in me to connect with the land and in recent years I have made my way back. There is just something about it. I find God there, or whatever I believe about God. Even before I left for the trip, on Sundays I would just hop in my truck and start driving. No destination, no particular plan. The only plan was to explore and find something that I hadn’t found before. Whatever it was, I always found something. I did the same thing with this trip. There was not a single night for six months that I planned on sleeping or eating somewhere specific. Every single day was a new experiment. The only difference from my Sunday drives, was that this time I packed my entire life into a truck and a trailer and made my voyage without looking back. Instead of ending up on a hillside in middle America, I ended up in the dusty deserts of Slab City, ocean front cliffs in Malibu and the snow covered mountains of Schweitzer in northern Idaho. With all this majesty surrounding me it was an easy choice on what I was here to do. Photograph the adventure. Unlike any other cross-country trip I’ve taken, this time I always had a
camera on me. It made it easy to capture beauty on the go. Because I left for this trip months after I had planned, the entire texture of the landscape was different than I’d expected. I would be driving down the road in southern Oregon during sunrise and I’d see something stunning and pull off the road and sit for an hour and just stare into the trees. No matter how cold it was, I would eventually break out the camera and take a few shots capturing the pink and purple hues that graced the sky and the slow fog that settled onto the side of the mountains. I was breathless. Thank god my phone didn’t work in many parts of the country because this helped me helped me really focus on what was right there in front of me. Recently I've come to terms with our cultures overwhelming dependency on modern technologies and it has birthed the desire to unplug and take a break from city life. A pause on modern culture, if you will. I want to disconnect for a few months and see what life is like when my eyes aren’t fixed on a tiny screen. I want to see this earth and the people around me in a new way. When the books I am working on get published, I am putting away a little bit of money, grabbing an axe and heading straight for the mountains in Montana. It was entirely too tempting to just stay there in January when I was passing through. But the cold and snow were chasing me and the only way to get out of that part of the country alive in a two-wheel drive 1970’s pickup was to hale ass south as fast as I could. Whether it was due to road closures, failing headlights, or losing my ID in a hostel in Washington, there were several nights during those winter months I’d get stuck sleeping in the cab of my truck. I always carried an ample supply of thick blankets, firewood, an avalanche shovel, whiskey and an old Playboy (for the articles). Kept me warm and cozy. Other than meeting up with models in the major cities I had no other plans between stops. So getting stuck out in the middle of nowhere for a day or two was kind of exhilarating. Back in Venice, I sold my trailer to a fantastic couple who narrated audio books because I knew it would give me a few extra months on the road and that’s what the trip was about. It wasn’t about completing the journey but letting the journey complete me. After six months I finally started running out of money and was ready to start working on the production of the book. Shooting far more of my expeditions than expected, I decided to produce two books instead of one. I made it back to Dallas, Texas after some much needed rest with family in Arizona. I am now working long hours everyday editing photos, making contacts and trying to figure out how to get these books into the hands of friendly folks like you. This whole trip wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for the friends and fans who supported my work in the first place. Along with the provisions from Hochstadter’s Slow & Low Whiskey Co. I was able to complete far more than I set out to do. Now the real hard work and laboring begins. With love and support from those around me I am eager to continue growing as an artist and have found that getting away from a life where I felt stuck and limited virtually changed the course of my entire life.
Seeking people out was my heart’s deepest desire. From an early age, I daydreamed of running next door to Susan Treppendahl’s house so I could play dolls, jump on the trampoline, and play make believe with her all day. I longed for weekends, when real (not imagined) trips into town wound their way to real (not imagined) slumber parties. Those brief flings with genuine friendship and fellowship could hardly satisfy. Too excited too sleep at any sleepover, I lay awake making an imaginary life for myself and the slumbering partygoers, far from the farm, in the middle of town. In my mind’s eye, I moved each of our Lindsey family possessions into whichever friends family home I was sleeping in, meticulously placing each piece in its proper position. With each vision of a completely decorated room, I further secured my permanent place among the people I adored. Once settled, I saw myself surrounded by friends and neighbors, enjoying the perks of a more urban interaction: walking a few blocks to the store for ring pops and sprites, running around to all my friends homes, cruising around town on our bikes, walking to the town pool. I longed for community and felt destined, when grown up, for city life. And yet I knew that the city had its limitations, and that the farm girl within me still needed easy access to the quiet and beauty of the countryside. In Nashville, I found both. I live in the coolest neighborhood, called East Nashville, a community just over the Cumberland River from downtown Nashville. From my house, I can walk to meet friends -- old, new, and unknown -- at my favorite coffee shop Barista Parlor, restaurant Mas Tacos and local bar 308. Or, I can drive for only 5 minutes and find myself in Shelby Park, a magical land of tranquil meadows, sprawling woods, and scenic, riverbank trails -- with lovely views of the Cumberland. In East Nashville, I have finally found the happy marriage of a city’s community and the country’s calm. I love people, always have. Especially creative people. I never considered, however, that I myself might be creative. Until I found myself forced to become so. Four years ago, bedridden by excruciating, seemingly inexplicable neck pain, I learned that a piece of surgical wire, used to fuse my spinal vertebrae after a car accident 12 years prior, had broken off, piercing my brain stem. I required emergency surgery to prevent certain paralysis, and yet the surgery itself could paralyze me. If I might loose the ability
to ever again rearrange a single piece of furniture or perhaps never walk again, I decided that I had better get my own space right. I would create an atmosphere in which I could feel at home forever, however long that might be, and where my community would love to visit. Once again, I found myself lying in bed, begging God to transform my environment. Without health insurance, because it was a pre-existing injury, I also struggled to see a way to afford this experimental surgery -- the very first of its kind -- to remove the wire from my spine. My father, I later learned, confided in my mother and my godfather his plan to visit me with the news that he would sell the family farm in order to make sure I got the right treatment. The night before his planned visit, he fell down a flight of stairs and, the next day, succumbed to the resulting brain injuries. My life had been turned upside down. Desperate for a diversion from all the pain – physical and emotional - I was experiencing, I threw myself into decorating my home, one room at a time. I needed a way to focus on beauty instead of brokenness. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I wanted my home to be a respite of goodness and beauty and warmth since I was going to have to spend a lot of time in bed recovering. My dear friend, and amazing photographer, Reid Rolls, photographed my newly decorated house. Those photos ended up on several different design blogs. The response I received from those posts was completely overwhelming. People assumed I was a professional decorator and approached/contracted me to help them with their homes. Until then, when singled out for my quirky fashion sense, and asked whether I was an artist, I sincerely and emphatically denied it, insisting, “I don’t have a creative bone in my body!" And yet, out of this broken season -- the impending surgery, the desolating loss of my dear Papa -- that lay at my door so much pain and desperation, I discovered what I had been created to do. Now, I am able to use my profound affection for places and people to bring beauty to all sorts of communities, homes, and events. I have the privilege of working with so many inspiring and talented people and organizations. I so enjoy listening to their stories, discovering what they hold dear, and envisioning with them spaces styled to suit their deepest needs for the warm, secure embrace of home. Even from a place of utter brokenness and pain, I found my way home. I’m here to help my clients do the same.
IT STARTED SOMEHOW, EVEN AT THIS POINT I HAVE A DIFFICULT TIME RECALLING JUST HOW THINGS FELL INTO PLACE. IT WAS A MIXTURE OF THINGS THAT ROOTED ME IN WHAT MANY, UNFORTNATELY, CONSIDER THE 'OLD WAYS'. THE WAY THINGS 'USED TO BE'. IT'S SOMETHING MYSELF AND MANY OTHERS ARE TRYING TO BRING BACK NOW. IN THE EARLY 1900'S, AMERICA DID A GREAT JOB OF PRIDING ITSELF ON THE WORK IT DID BY HAND. MANNERS AND KINDNESS WERE TRAITS NOT LEARNED BUT THRIVED WITHIN OUR CULTURE. Of course, there as a lot cultural growth that needed to happen as well. However, the pretense of the 'American life' was filled with good intention and matched ambitions. It was during this time that innovation and wellmade goods truly overflowed. Today, we have realized our lost connection with this are making the strides to bring it back. Three years ago, I began a blog while in Boston under the pretense to give myself a creative-outlet that would otherwise deter me from the nittygritty, straight-forward life of architecture. Little did I know, that the love for aesthetic would explode into what now is a voice that has reach and traction in the makers' community. 1924 is the name of the business, but it certainly isn't something I own. It is more of a collection of works embodied by dozens of makers, artisans and people with ambition. It's what we need right? Ambition? Matched with drive, discipline and a whole hell of a lot of hard work you're able to make what you want of it, and that is the ideal we are quickly relearning. It's something that came out of the wood works quite literally, I grew up in the forests of Southern Oregon, small towns with few creative outlets other than nights full of bitter rain and sketching. My father was 18 year sailor in the United States Navy and my mother was a stay at home mom. This is a crazy mix for a not-so-normal family, but one that teaches you good values, hard work, looking people in the eye, a good hand-shake, and more hard work. My Nana and Papa are beyond to thank for that as well with the intentions of raising my brothers and I up in the best possible way while we would stay in their pine-tree surrounded home. As 1924 came into fruition, I started to realize that the makers' community we were supporting was the lifestyle I had actually lived my entire life. There was a deep translation between my experiences and what we promote now. Three years into this business we started the US Collective--a sister-part of the 1924 ambition-- a way to go back to the roots of American-made solely
promoting United States' small-brand-minded makers. A great first crew came on; 1820 House, Chippewa Boots, Hitter's Count, Grainstack Wallets, Shop BoutonnĂŠ, Luke Lamp Co, Aster & Bay, Red Cloud's Collective, Fare Isle, Farrell & Company, Waltzing Matilda USA, Aleksandra Zee Woodworks, and many others. We are always coming on board to join us in voicing the American-made movement of people who stay up late and work their fingers to the bone. We get to see the real aesthetic behind these brands, the raw learning processes as well as the refined way of giving them traction in the rather large world of makers. I could not be more proud of the people who support this movement, these brands, these friends and families who, as I write this, work to further progress the oldschool inspired ways of making goods that last. It's so easy to lose track of time in working in a creatively-overflowing environment. The line between work and play fades. To have nearly 90,000 people following us from around the world to see what we put out next is one of the most humbling factors to ever play a part in my life. You may have realized how often i say 'we', but in reality I am a 22-year-old gentleman with the jazzy-heart and rag-time soul of a man from the 20's running 1924 completely and solely on my own. The 'we' comes from the collection of people that embody what 1924 is, a movement of makers, the artisans who come together, to congratulate themselves at the end of the day for their hard work, their efforts, and their beautiful way of making so much from scraps of leather, small batches of soy, naturally grown plants, pieces of wood, a few wires, and the lead of their pencils. Beyond myself, i could not be happier with the impact that has come from 1924, and can only work my ass off to make sure it continues with unmatched drive and an undying dignity.
WHAT OPTIONS WERE YOU WANTING TO CREATE FOR WOMEN WITH ESBY? I WANT WOMEN TO HAVE MORE CLASSIC OPTIONS, BUT THEY DON’T HAVE TO BE PLAIN OR BORING. I WANT SILHOUETTES THAT ARE SPECIAL, WHILE REMAINING CLASSIC AND LESS TRENDY. TREND DRIVES THE WOMEN’S MARKET, WHICH LEADS TO MANY THROWAWAY, FAST-FASHION BRANDS. I BELIEVE THAT CLOTHING SHOULD LAST. I WANT TO BUY SOMETHING AND WEAR IT ALL THE TIME. WHEN IT WEARS OUT, I WOULDN’T MIND REPAIRING A FAVORITE PIECE. WHICH MEANS I WANT MY PIECES TO BE MADE WITH QUALITY FABRICS AND SEWN WELL. I WANT TO HAVE AN EMOTIONAL RELATIONSHIP WITH MY CLOSET. CLOTHES TELL STORIES. I ALWAYS REMEMBERING WHAT I WAS WEARING WHEN I THINK OF FAVORITE MEMORY OR PAST EVENT. I ALSO DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO THINK A LOT ABOUT WHAT I WEAR EACH DAY. HAVING A CLOSET FILLED WITH COMFORTABLE, FLATTERING, VERSATILE, TIMELESS, WELL-MADE PIECES IS MY DREAM AND GOAL. Where was the collection conceived and designed? Did the location inspire the pieces? Esby has been living in my head many years before it actually became a real line. I started a blog - inspiringesby.com - while I was designing menswear, where I could post inspirations I found that didn’t pertain to my day job. once I started to design and sketch, I was still living in new york and spent the summers in Montauk. All of the pieces from the first season are named after places in Montauk. I was very inspired by the differences and similarities between NYC and the beach. The play between urban living and laid back beach vibes is visible throughout the line. The Beach House reversible top is a beach cover-up turned into a year-round top. The West Lake dress is the ease of a shirtdress but a bit more structured. You can wear it easily from day to night. The ford pond tunic is long enough to wear as a dress with sandals when it’s warm, or wear it over jeans with boots and a sweater during cooler months. What are the key basics? I think the key basics of any wardrobe are only a few great pieces. One must have amazing jeans that fit well. In my case - I always have a black and worn-in pair of high-waisted skinny jeans. I also think a wide leg pant is a must have - preferably lightweight dark denim. I’m working on a pair for season two. Everyone should also have a few great button-down shirts. My uniform always tends to be a skinny jean and a button-down. So classic. Of course, chambray is everywhere right now - and for good reason. It’s comfortable, layer-able, and season-less. I probably have 10 great chambray shirts. A go-to dress is key. An easy shape. Like the West Lake dress. You can wear it so many ways. I also always make sure I am are buying natural fabrics, though, as poly and other man-made fibers don’t breathe and make you hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Esby will always be made using only natural fabrics. Oversized styles are also great. For those days when you feel like you aren’t looking as good as you really do - throw on an oversized top that looks good but is still comfortable - like the Beach House reversible top. You will feel like you are in sweats but won’t look like it. A great sweater is also a must have. I’m looking forward to developing sweaters for Esby. You can’t beat an over-sized wide V-neck camel colored sweater. I like mine to be chunky linen or silk.
What is the color pallet of the collection? Where are they dyed? The color palettes for esby will likely always be muted and natural. I don’t wear a ton of color, and I think the most beautiful colors are blues, grays, blacks, whites, and off-whites - these will never go out of style. I’m obsessed with indigo. It’s a dye I’ll use often. There is a scarf in the
line that is chambray and it’s over-dyed indigo. The West Lake dress and top both come in a bleached out indigo that is really lovely. I can’t wait to see how those pieces will wear over time. I do love garment dying pieces, as well. The Beach House top and East End tee are garment dyed. During garment dying, you’re washing dye into the actual finished garment, so it’s always going to have a more interesting effect around the stitching and seams, and also give the piece a bit of a lived-in look and feel. I also love a true indian ikat. The yarns are dyed and then woven together. It produces the most unique pattern through such an interesting weaving process. I used ikat for the navy beach dress and the kimono top, as well as many of the scarves. The line was produced where? We are working with an amazing small factory in new orleans. I feel so lucky to have found them. A former designer moved from New York and opened up a factory that had closed after Katrina. I love helping to bring work back to that area, not to mention - the amount of detail and attention my small line gets there. I know they are being thorough and paying attention to detail - that’s incredibly important to me.
How important is made in America? Made in America is so special. I really enjoy knowing that my clothing is made in a factory where workers are paid a fare wage and treated well. The more work in this industry that we can bring back to the states, the better. Product will only continue to improve and we can’t let the skill of sewing and manufacturing die in this country. I read recently that Americans bought 50% of their clothing from US manufacturers in 1990. Today, a mere 5% of the clothing we buy is US made. As we educate ourselves and it becomes important in our lives for other products to be made well in the US - we need not forget the clothing we wear on our back every day. I’m from north carolina, where this industry really used to thrive. I’m excited to be using a knit fabric in my second season that’s made in north carolina.
What is your favorite piece from the collection? It’s really hard to pick a favorite from the line, but I know I will be wearing the West Lake top in the indigo/natural stripe all the time. I also really love the over-dyed black kimono top. That piece sort of designed itself during the development process of another style that didn’t make it. I’m also working on a jumper for season 2 that I can’t wait to come to life. (Season two is expected to be finished in the fall of this year.)
‰
Esby West Lake Button Down Top - Bleached Blue Chambray West Lake Button Down Top - Indigo/Natural Micro stripe Kimono Top - Black over dyed Chambray Navy Beach Maxi Dress - Black/Brown ikat Beach House Reversible Top - Faded Blue Esby Bandana - Indigo/Natural Micro Stripe Esby Bandana - Black/Brown ikat
Boots / Billy Reid Fall ‘13 Heels / Vintage Cutoffs / Vintage Chino Short / Billy Reid Boyfriend Chino Short - Bronz / Spring ‘14 Black Mini Skirt / Billy Reid Marnie Skirt - Sequoia / Spring Model / Lauren Kirby Hair & Makeup / Ashlie Adams
I KNOW THE NAME NORMAN RUSSELL HAS FAMILY TIES. TELL US A LITTLE ABOUT THAT. IT'S NAMED AFTER MY GRANDFATHER (NORMAN LEE), MY FATHER (WHO'S ACTUAL NAME IS NORMAN RUSSELL, BUT HE HAS ALWAYS GONE BY RUSTY), AND MY BROTHER (DUSTIN RUSSELL). THEY ALL BRING SOMETHING TO THE BRAND. THE MILITARY FEEL COMES FROM MY GRANDPA. THE "OUTDOORSMEN" FEEL COMES FROM MY BROTHER. AND THE LAID BACK CALI VIBE COMES FROM MY FATHER. What is your background in clothing design? My background in clothing design is ZERO! Norman Russell is my first go at designing an apparel line. I've always had an opinion when it came to design, but I never fully "designed" anything. I made a few tshirts during college, but that was mainly for friends and family. Nothing ever came of it. So my design background is very limited. Why denim? I didn't choose denim, it chose me. I caught the Denim Bug back in 2009. It fascinated me! Some people catch the guitar bug, or the motorcycle bug.... I caught the denim bug. I used to see denim as just jeans. I never worried about the process, the washes, or even the fabric itself. There is SO much that goes into a pair of pants! It's unreal. The history of denim caught my interest as well. Denim is as American as apple pie! Denim is so much a part of the American Culture, American Sub Culture, and American Psyche. Bikers, Cowboys, skaters, Businessmen, the list goes on and on of the type of people that wear denim. For American's, Denim is like milk in your cereal. Or a PB+J sandwich. Some things just go hand and hand! When I worked for other clothing companies, they made denim. BUT they didn't really make denim. The made "good enough" denim. I wanted to make a jean that you couldn't or wouldn't want to live without. A jean with substance, longevity, and a timeless feel/fit. That's what I wanted. I basically started making jeans out of necessity rather than a need for it. Let's be honest, there a ton of denim brands out there, but they weren't doing the things that I wanted out of a great pair of jeans. Hell, I haven't even done everything I want to do to the jeans yet! I'm still tweaking them from season to season. Hopefully one of these days I 'll have them dialed to just how I want them. And when that happens, I'll probably change my mind again. Where is your denim sourced from? All of my denim is sourced from Cone Mills White Oak plant in Greensboro, North Carolina. Describe some of the details that make your selvage jeans and canvas pants stand out among others.
born. They were both born in 1927. Hence the 270 limited pieces. The fabrics I use are unique. Sometimes I'll use deadstock fabric in very limited runs. But the all in all it's the little things that make my jeans unique. It's the way they fit, it's the little red bar tacks that I place throughout the jean, it's the hardware, it's the back leather patch that comes from Argentinian cow hyde, it's the 5th pocket detail, it's the buttons, the rivets, all the little details that make them unique. The Norman Russell collection has a military vibe to it. Where does that come from? The military vibe comes from both my Grandfather's. My Dad's dad, Norman Lee was a boxer in the Navy. I actually have a photo of my grandpa fighting the Ohio Gold Glove Champion on the deck of a battle ship. It's pretty damn cool! My Mom's Dad, George Willis (aka Dub or Dubber) was a part of General MacArthur's Honor Guard.They are and were great men. M Grandpa Dub hands down the greatest man I've ever known. Where does your inspiration come from? My inspiration comes from my surroundings. Be it from my friends, my family, architecture, the outdoors, surfing, travel, "vintage" clothing stores, etc... Inspiration is all around. Some people don't even look twice, but for me, there's inspiration in almost everything. How important is American made and heritage to you? To me American Made and heritage go hand in hand. The word "heritage" has become a huge marketing phrase these last few years, but for me, the word heritage means so much more! This country used to make good shit and make a lot of it! Not only for the USA, but for the entire world. Our "heritage" left us and went over seas and a lot of jobs, aspirations, and dreams went over seas with them! I think with the resurgence of American Made, we are slowly getting our "heritage" back. Heritage isn't a look, style, or a brand. Heritage is a way of life. "American Made" is helping the US find it's heritage again. In a way, it's helping US find who we used to be and who we still can become! Who is the Norman Russell guy?
For starters, they are all limited edition pieces. They are all hand numbered and stamped by me before they head out the door. As of now, I only make 270 pieces per fit per wash. The reason for the 270 pieces is to honor the year my grandfather (both of my Grandfathers) were
A guy that drives a Range Rover, but isn't afraid to get it dirty!
‰
Norman Russell The Hammer Straight / Venice Wash The Hammer Straight / Canvas Selvage The Cookie / Wash 2 The Cookie Slim / Raw Johny Denim Jacket & Vest / Venice Wash Willis II Woven Tommy II Flannel Willis II Chambray
Field Knit Stripe Tee / J. Crew Summer ‘14 Whiskey / Hochstadter’s Rock & Rye
Where did you grow up? Describe your childhood Silver Spring Maryland, went to grade school at The Washington Waldorf School when it was still on the grounds of the National Cathedral in DC. My childhood was all about being outside. Mostly playing in the back yard with kids from the neighborhood, we had a steep alley back there where we could race big wheels and wagons down off home made ramps, crashing and bleeding in a pile to our deaths, it was so much fun. We made lots of forts of coarse, adventures along Sligo Creek and Nolte field, hiking Sugarloaf Mountain, swimming in the lake at Cunningham Falls, camping with my older sister Carrie, fishing in the Chesapeake Bay with my dad, making costumes with my older Rebbecca, going to the Bhagwan Rajneesh house in DC with my eldest sister Debra. All of this being shared with my sister of two years younger Mary. My childhood was filled with amazing experiences due to my sisters, they practically raised Mary and I. Our mom was sick for many years and died when I was ten, but she would paint water color paintings and invented fantastical story's about Mary and I that she would then read to us in her bed. She, my mom, Grace was a person of limitless imagination when it came to entertaining children. She saved us from the reality of what was happening in many ways. I learned about the power of imagination from her. She was part of the Rudolf Steiner world of thinking which saved us kids again from growing up too conventional, haha. She was as well a teacher at Acorn Hill, one of the first alternative school in the US and where I went to kinder garden. All the Steiner stuff had huge impact on me. My Dad was a white collar business man with a blue collar work ethic and a street kid from Philly education. A good timin man, sometime perhaps a bit too much. On occasions he wouldn't come home till after bed time, we would wake to find dozens of live Maryland Blue Crabs scurrying in the bath tub, once he never made it to the tub and the were all running all over the kitchen floor. I guess he would get tipsy after work and buy crabs? That evening he would cook them up in a big pot with Old Bay Seasoning, and we would feast on then to the sounds of small hammers cracking the shells. Traditionally corn on the cob was server, plenty of beer, and the table was layed with news print to sop the juices. This brings up the subject of our family dinning table which was an outdoor picnic table. I remember it well because it had a hole from where a knot in the wood fell out, so that hole always made spill what ever was place on top of it. Of course there was always a table cloth to disguise the ugly picnic table, this made it impossible to know where that hole was, haha. It wasn't until many years later that I learn why we ate on
that old embarrassing rickety thing. Story goes our mother in spite of our father gave away the good dinning table and chairs to the Acorn Hill elementary school where she taught. My mom and dad did not have a good relationship by the time Mary and I were born. My dad did something to prompt my mother into giving away our table. So i guess instead of buying a new one my father most likely to spite my mother now brought in the outside picnic table with one bench as a solution. There is much hummer in our family to go along with much grief. What I remember most about what my childhood are smells and sounds, the effect they had on me. If I was to pick a few key things that summed up my favorite childhood memories it would include the smell of Old Bay Seasoning, cheep bear, and newspaper soaked in crap guts, the smell of fresh damp Autumn leaves my dad just finished raking in to a huge pile in the front yard, I'd lay in the middle staring up at the naked branches of our Maple tree, the clear blue sky, the low heat from the afternoon sun, that perfect breeze coming cross the top, the essence of everything filling my nose, mouth, ears, and lungs with the sensation of being in absolute perfection. There no other way to describe it, but It was like heroin to me, I was getting high off it. I remember well the smell and atmosphere of crisp morning due on one chilly very early Easter morning just at dawn with my mom when she was well, the feel of her hands, the sound of coarse grass, and drips under foot as she guiled Mary and I and some other school kids cross a field to discover the hidden Easter eggs we had hand died in onions peels with leaves wrapped in gauze the night before, fucking magical. The smell of dirt thawing in Spring. Every time Winter ends I get the same sensation as I did as a kid so excited winter was over running around the neighborhood, lookin for the Robin Red Breast and Daffodils to tell me it is Spring. Lastly I can still recall what it felt like to hear the low murmur of my families voices out side our old musty canvas tent in the mornings when camping as they talked quietly getting breackfast ready, the gentle clanking the enamel cook wear and the crackling fire. That sound is so complete in utter perfection. These things are and were so entirely eternally sublime in there experience, the sweetest high imaginable, better then the best sex ever or anything I have felt since. I remember well being this boy outside wrapped in the greatest embrace of every aspect of every sense of being, they are now religious in ways, spiritual. There's other good and not so good stuff to go on about, like climbing 30 foot pine trees during wind storms, the smell of sap on my hand, being whipped around, clinging to the tippy top as the wind made everything go nuts, but I don't know how much is too much or little to describe.
HOW DID YOUR INTEREST IN CREATING JEWELRY BEGIN? WHEN I TRIED TO FIND SOME RINGS FOR MYSELF TO WEAR. I COULDN'T FIND ANY THAT I LIKED, SO I WENT TO A JEWELRY SUPPLY COMPANY IN THE DISTRICT AND GOT SOME WAX AND FEW TOOLS AND MADE TWO RINGS, ONE FOR ME AND THE SECOND EVENTUALLY WENT TO MY COSMIC COWBOY BROTHER PERZY. THEN A YEAR LATER I WAS ENCOURAGED TO MAKE MORE, SO I JUST KEPT ADDING ON MORE RINGS. THEN FRIENDS STARTED TO WANT SOME AND SO ON. ITS FUN TO DO, AND FOLKS SEEM TOLIKE EM. I AMALWAYS SURPRISED, FLATTERED, HUMBLED, AND FOREVER GRATEFUL FOR THE SUPPORT I GET.
Where does the inspiration come?
What's your soundtrack while working?
Form my child hood, I find that everything originated in what I experience as a child, the rest has been aquiring the skills and knowlege to manifest those day dreams into reality.
Ha, what else, Country music, The Constitution of America, and NPR!
The source of inspiration for Witness Co. come from the adventures I had with my sister Carrie and her boyfriend Tony. He was a big biker dude with long dark hair, thick bearded, and hands, finger nails, jeans and boots stained by engine oil from building choppers. He had mad skills and did badass things. Like I watched him cut a DD battery in half, somehow squeezed a few drops of acid out to put on some wort's to remove them. Once when we went camping we forgot matches to light the camp fire so Tony pride off a bullet from its casing poured the powder onto a piece of bark hooked up the trucks battery with jumper cable to spark the powder then with flaming bark in hand he dashed to the gasoline soaked camp fire pit and the place went up in a ball of smoke and flame. For kid that is awesome, he was a wizard to me. Unfortunately he passed away when I was about 12, but he left an impression that resulted in what I am and do today. So he lives on in ways though Witness Co.
If it wasn't I would be no one! Without my family, friends, relationships and a community, life would not be worth living. Going it alone in the woods is pointless. I am a connected being with all other beings, creatures, plants, stones, and the universe. To ignore this would be a starvation of the soul. "I am because you are" is how I like to see it. I am so thankful! This is the well from which all things are possible.
Carrie and Tony would take Mary and I with them to Hagerstown, MD or go camping, for a spell. There was always biker stuff and the Eagles on the record player. I remember the song Hotel California very well, I would look at Easy Rider magazines, the picture of the biker events with the girls on the backs of choppers and gnarly dudes ripping down a dirt roads, tits and ass, all the beer, tattoos and ruckus was appealing, fascinating, it stuck with me. Sometimes we would ride out to woods with his buddies and there ladies, shoot at bottles tossed into the steam. The smell of gun power and crick water evoke those memories. To me we did outlaw shit and it was the 1970's, I knew it was good times, and I could feel that it was a community. I got to see and experience first hand what the biker community was like in those days. Its something I cherish. What inspires me to make what I make is folks like this, that get together in the woods, raise a little hell, have a good time, positive vibes. Do you consider yourself a maker, crafter or artist? I don't know... the passion for what I do again stems from childhood. I was born with the urge to tinkering with stuff, and play in the dirt. I have always used my hands and imagination to make what I want, weather it be a wooden toy pistol, or a fort , a cabin in the woods, dinner, music, hats, or rings I make, or modify or customize most everything in my world. I never went to school or took a class, I just pick up the tools and work at the skills to get it right or at least the best I can do. I am lucky to be in a town where there are so many talented folks to learn from. Ive done and made some many different types of things for all sorts of situations, but never one thing stuck with me, until rings, and that's mostly because of the amazing support and encouragement I get form folks. If folks didn't get so siked on my rings then I wouldn't be waisting my time. I get comments about being a craftsmen, but I know craftsmen and the are wizards. Im not, I am just The Grand Poobah provider of good vibes... HAHA... Its fun! What is the essence of the American landscape to you? Gosh, loaded....besides the natural beauty of the country side, the essence of this land for me is its subcultures. They fuel the energy that I like to tap into. Its all the independent Butchers and Bakers and Candlestick makers that make this country so awesome. Weather it be knitting sweaters in the kitchen or hand forging knives in your garage, its that good-old-know-how and can-do attitude that is the spirit of the American landscape. There is also the essence of those cultures who took care of the land before industrialization, to which I am grateful!
Is community important to you?
I could go on an on about the importance and power of community, but I would never finish this interview, haha Where does your personal style come from? My dad. I am very much like my dad in this way, he is also a William. He called his look the "lived in look"....classic, well worn, modest, with a bit of dandy and twinkle in his eye. I guess if there was a philosophy behind my personal style it would be...if you cant wear the crap out of it it aint worth money, if everything cant go into one same wash load then its way too fussy. If I cant work in it then its just for show so I better be dead or at a fancy dinner which is like playing dead but propped up. Lastly and most importantly if I cant wear it at the local bar, and do some Dancin, then what fun would being getting dress at all. This logic ends up lookin kind of like a Cowboy. I love the 1800's and 1970's haha You love hats. Again back to my childhood... I have always worn a Hat. I have always modified something to be my hats. As a window into my love for hats here are a few examples. As a really little kid I used to wear my moms dark brown, wool, fur hat because I thought it looked like the army dudes that play Bagpipes in war. I love listening to the Bagpipes, we had an album that I could play and parade around the house with butter knives in my pulled up socks, my moms fur hat, a brown paper bag tucked under my arms and tinker tows as pipes over my shoulder, this was serious business, haha. There is a family photo of me on my 9th birthday with deflated Dime store rubber ball with sparkle swirls, I inverted to make a hat out of? I would make medieval helmets out of empty milk gallon jugs by cutting out the face, around the eye, that nose shied part and, and sideburns parts down the sides, then spry paint silver. Once in the early 90's I took out the stuffing of a decorative green velvet 70's round couch trough pillow, gathered in the middle with a matching button, sewed in an elastic head band and topped it off with a maroon tassel, I actually wore this in the streets of NYC, I thought it made me look artistic, haha. I have worn a aviator's quilted helmet liner, a sombrero, a French beret, an Irish Tam, an English herringbone old mans hat, Moonshiner hat, Civil War hats, military hats of all sorts, in high school I wore a black t-shit I had cut fringe into so it looked like I had dreads when I wore it on my head (it makes no sense why my skateboarding friends would hang out with me with that on, and a white officers dress hat on top of this T-shirt wig?) lots of funny thrift store hats. Eventually I always come back to the cowboy hat, unfortunately I can not rock a full on Stetson. I get comments from assholes wanting to know "where did I park my horse". So I started modifying and customizing Cowboy hats to suit a shape I feel looks more contemporary. Yes I love hats. I feel so deeply about the positive effects of wearing hats that I believe the whole word would be a better place if everyone wore fun hats.
Tell us a little about the new workspace and how you found it.
light pouring through and our obsessive incense burning, we stay inspired.
We were looking at the space next door with our friend Alexandra Valenti and just happened to poke our heads through a broken window to get a look around. Despite being filled to the brim with junk and rats, we saw the guts of the building, the exposed brick and beams and fell in love. Fifteen months of calling the landlord once a week and we were moving in.
Whom does all the cycles belong to? We each have a handful at any given moment and let our good friend Joe Swec store his two babies over here too. Folks just assumes we're a motorcycle shop based on how it looks in here. Any cool events held there lately?
What is the history? From what we found out from poking around, it was built in 1941 and used as a factory to produce rope and chain for a company called Holloway. They used it until 1982 when the current owner purchased it and used it to store outdated medical equipment until we moved in. What do you guys do there?
We've been a little shy with opening up the shop to the public. So far we've limited it to a few small get togethers with close friends and a super small Deus Ex Machina event. What are you two currently working on?
It's part art studio, design shop, motorcycle garage, gym, and a club house for us and our cronies.
At the moment, we're primarily focused on self-initiated art projects, getting our online store launched and a few bigger commercial jobs including a bar with some of our good friends here in town, a new whiskey label and slowly starting to work on our first Land book.
Does the space inspire the work?
Rad things about being a artist in Austin?
Absolutely. It's really nice to have a space thats so wide open physically and creatively, where we can jump from project to project anytime we start to feel stagnant. There is definitely a resonance between our work and the simple, raw materials we're surrounded by. With all the natural
It's much slower paced than other larger cities, tons of great salt of the earth folks, beautiful swimming holes everywhere and giant open skies are never far away.
The woman s t anding at t he count er is draped in a light, mustard-colored blanket with tassels. Her hair is neatly piled on her head and a string of interlinked baubles that is either very expensive or very cheap hangs from her neck. She’s just finished showing Jack Roche, co-owner of Old North Clothing in Asheville, NC, her new iPhone. Now she’s trying to figure out his store. “This is a genre onto itself, isn’t it?” she asks. “I’m always curious to hear how people perceive it,” Roche says from behind the counter. His beard is rust colored and he’s wearing a black hoodie and jeans. “It’s kind of a mountain man, rustic deal with natural stuff. Did I get it?” “Yeah, there’s this new men’s movement happening,” Roche says. “It’s about darn time don’t you think?” She asks before Roche launches into the brief and recent history of the uptick in heritage influenced menswear and American made goods and the “buy it for life” mentality that permeates menswear store these days.
pant made from 15 Oz. selvedge Japanese denim. Roche fronted the operation financially, Martin made the pants and Piehowicz photographed them. They sold out and there’s already a waitlist for the next batch. The trio will release a bandana next before bringing out a western shirt and jacket. Every item will be made in small batches to preserve the quality and exclusivity of the brand. Roche and Brian Erickson started Mile Marker as an exercise in vertical integration, ethical wages and environmental impact; also because they wanted to create a distinctly modern brand with vintage outdoor and mountaineering influences. Erickson brought over 20 years of sourcing and production experience, while Roche worked on styling, fits and fabric.
Roche’s store, which he co-owns with his wife Wren Kelley, hits all the marks you’d expect from a heritage-focused shop. A huge American flag hangs in the back near the rough-hewn register counter. Vintage apothecary cases hold raw leather bracelets and key fobs next to another case with a full-range of beard care and pomade products. The denim bar is stocked with locals Raleigh Denim, Philadelphia’s Norman Porter Co., Railcar, and Mister Freedom. Locals drift in throughout the day to browse and talk to Roche and Kelley. Some are from out of town and others are regulars. Many make themselves at home on the tufted leather couch for a while.
“Mile Marker is about trying to establish production in a fair trade county, how to get it fully vertical from mill to cut and sew and do everything in the same place,” Roche said.
Most folks would be satisfied owning a thriving retail outlet in North Carolina’s anomalous swatch of liberal, hippie enclave nestled in the Blue Ridge mountains. For Roche, though, Old North is much more than a retail space for some of his favorite brands; it’s a launch pad for a seemingly endless stream of collaborations and lines. Roche is a collaboration junkie. In the past two years he’s started up a limited-edition workwear line, Lower 48, with Ryan Martin of W.H. Ranch Dungarees and the Bandit Photographer. He has also launched an environmentally and ethically sound line of knits, Mile Marker, with Brian Erickson. In addition, He will start production soon on his own line, Ruby City with some help from Russell Shurtz on the denim. Roche, who grew up in Portland, tuned his mania for collaborations as a musician and a Sillicone Valley contractor before devoting himself to selling and producing the best quality menswear possible. “I’ve always had the perspective of being able to see large potential in people and things,” he said. “It’s always been about finding mutually beneficial situations that elevate everybody.” The first rumblings of Lower 48 started a few years ago when Martin was still making ties. Roche knew he wanted to do a collaboration with Martin and the two started bouncing ideas off each other. They decided their first project would be a work pant. In the concepting process Martin brought in Cory Piehowicz, also known as the Bandit Photographer, to give his opinions. Piehowicz, Roche and Martin got together on a few conference calls and Lower 48 was born. Their first release was a double front work
Erickson and Roche achieved their goal in Peru, using heirloom fabrics, paying fair wages and leaving no carbon footprint. The line of hats, blankets and knits, also features proprietary fabrics with copper woven into them that will patina over time and provide antimicrobial benefits. If Roche wasn’t busy enough, he’s also in the early phases of launching his own line: Ruby City. The line, which will be produced by Quail Valley Road Manufacturing in L.A., will launch as the Old North in-house brand before Roche opens it up to wider distribution once he’s hammered out the production; probably a year or so after launch. “The concept is capsules of very specific times and eras that represent what we believe we want to tell a story about,” Roche said. “Ruby City is very mid-century, early sixties, Steve McQueen inspired stuff.” The first capsule will be about 12 pieces and feature: a few cuts of denim (patterned by Asheville local Russell Shurtz), khakis and loopwheeled sweatshirts. An online shop is coming for Old North, soon. Roche refuses to launch the site until it meets his demanding specifications. He wants the site to look good, be intuitive and highlight the products in a way that appeals to him. Another brick and mortar location of Old North is in the works as well, though Roche is keeping the exact location under wraps for the time being. The woman wearing the mustard colored blanket and Roche wrap up their conversation by talking about their iPhones and how they’ve eliminated boredom for an entire generation. The woman says she doesn’t understand boredom and Roche commiserates. “I have way too much to do. I’ve got a couple lives worth of stuff waiting to get done,” he says. It’s clear through his stream of projects and the ideas he’s got that are still in the germination phase that he’s not exaggerating. “That’s probably the part where I need to be held back,” he said. “Because I’m already thinking about the next 20 years.”